humour (Remove filter)
Beautiful
( A praise poem - of sorts)
I'll not forget the day we met
on the Piccadilly line
the memory lies grafted
embedded in my mind
I'd been working late at the office
commuting home alone
when you approached me with your mobile
and by that I don't mean phone
And I'd like to say you were beautiful
but in truth it was a shock
I never looked up f...
Tuesday 23rd July 2013 7:53 am
The Yeung Sing Hotel
There are no young at the Yeung Sing hotel,
only those who grew old, singing for their supper,
or was it breakfast? For night turns to day, turns to night,
waiting to break fast, to break bread, to break owt
of the Yeung Sing Hotel where the hands of the clock stand still
like the ends of the arms of the chef who mans the grill.
Daylight saving seems a concept made in h...
Saturday 2nd April 2011 2:18 pm
Recent Comments
Manish Singh Rajput on Amnesia
33 seconds ago
R A Porter on The Eternal Flame
7 hours ago
David RL Moore on You can kill some of the people some of the time but you can't kill all of the people all of the time
10 hours ago
leon stolgard on HOPE!
11 hours ago
rob1967able on Colony 2B
11 hours ago
Landi Cruz on You can kill some of the people some of the time but you can't kill all of the people all of the time
11 hours ago
leon stolgard on In our lost curved ball world
12 hours ago
Landi Cruz on evensong
12 hours ago
David R Mellor on A Little Bird
12 hours ago
David R Mellor on A Little Bird
12 hours ago