Retired '50-11' year old. Likes to create humorous verse (check-out 'Chestnuts Reroasted!' on Lulu.com) and generally tittle-tattlin'!
‘Money-Go-Round’ ! There’s a village in Greece; name of ‘Chrosto’. That's noted for ‘nowt much to say’! So it caused ‘em to gawp ( in this little ’time-warp’), when a limousine ‘appened their way. It parked up in front of ‘Dimitri’s’ (the only hotel wi’ some ‘clout’), and out from the rear , ‘is face lackin’ in cheer, a German, named Herman got out. “I may stay the night!” barked the German. “I have cash!”, he announced (with a ‘boom’). Placing one hundred euro, ont’ top o’ the bureau. “But, first of all, show me your room” Dimitri then called ‘is assistant (his eyes never leaving the note). “What we need is a happy, Bavarian chappy! Be sure, the room gets ‘Herman’s’ ‘vote’”. Whilst pocketin’t one hundred euros Dimitri was up on ‘is feet. Then he hurried as much as, he could, to the ‘Butch-a’s’, to settle the bill for ‘is meat. Old Spiros, the butcher was ‘appy, Dimitri had cleared ‘is ‘tab’. It had so made his day, cos that meant, he could pay for a ‘few little drinks’ that he’d had. So, Spiros then took the one ‘undred and (not in the straightest of lines) he staggered and reeled, to a house in a field where ’Costas’ sold ouzo and wines. Now, Costas, was fairly bowled over, at the sight of ‘is customer’s wealth. He’d never have thought it; his bill, he would sort it. (Well, not while he still ‘ad ‘is ‘ealth!) As the cash, once again changed its owner, ‘the tunnel, at last, shone a light’. In fact, it were glowing, as Costas was owing to one of those ‘ladies o’t night’!) The name of this ‘siren’ was ‘Laya’ who’d given ‘im credit, for sex. ‘Cos he “owed on his cottage, and ‘adn't a sausage!” (Apart from the one in ‘is ‘kecks’!) So ‘e ‘opped on ‘is bike with the money and cycled to Laya’s abode. Where (led by ‘is ‘dickie’), ‘e managed a ‘quickie’! Then paid her the debt that he owed. Now, this ‘saved the day’ for young Laya. As she was a debtor as well. She‘d kept out, the way, o’ Dimitri, each day ‘cos she owed for some rooms at th’otel. But now she were ‘flush’; feeling ‘cocky’ (and I don’t mean a china-mans, ‘thing’!). Marchin’ in, ‘bold as brass’ (as she wiggled ‘er ass) she gave the desk-bell a quick ‘ding’. Dimitri, all smiles, welcomed Laya, with a “What can I do fer yer, Pet? I’ve got rooms fer romance, but you‘ve no blummin’ chance ‘Cos you’ve not paid fot last ‘beggers’, yet!” Well, Laya was not for the ‘baitin’’, “It’s them’s that I’ve come about, ‘Chuck’.” And, from inside her bra, she placed cash on the bar - the very same note that ‘e'd took! “Well that’s a good trick!”, smiled Dimitri. “Consider your debt cancelled out. If, ever yer short, o’ a place to cavort, just remember ter gi’ us a shout”. As Laya then left for a client (and skipped down the path, through the gate) Herman returned, from the room - which he’d spurned ‘cos ‘e wasn't best ‘appy at t'state. “The room is a mess!”he derided, as he snatched up his note from the bar. “I’ll take back my deposit for that filthy closet” Then left and drove off in his car. In the sleepy Greek village of ‘Chrosto’, There’s nowt much that ‘’appens, through’t day They’re all full of hope, Europe ‘throws ‘em a rope’. (but that’s not going to help, anyway!) Cos, if Greece gets a hold o’ some money, they’ll, simply just pass it about. Their debt will ‘enlargen’ and Europe will charge ‘em a fortune - for not doin’ owt! ___________________________________________________ Apostrophes' Catastrophies ! Apostrophe’s, Apostrophes’, With enigmatic propertie’s! They shorten thing’s; state what belongs, by gracing literature and song’s. Yet, people rage and shout abuse about their truly proper use. Knowing this, the blighter’s tea’se from windows’, sign’s and canopie’s’! Apostrophes, ‘Apostrophes’, Grammatical catastrophie’s! The culprit (chiefly) for this mess? That pesky little ‘tail-end’ ‘s’ ! It loiters’, causing indignation fudging ‘comma-allocation’. Where theyr’e placed, is purely luck. It seem’s that no-one gives a ‘care’! Wilkin’s Shop, or Wilkins’ Shop? This nonsense simply has to stop! Wilkins, he may well, then bawl “I have’nt got a shop at all”! But that fact’s, now been forgotten - we've agreed, his grammars’ rotten! Saddest fact about this, though is, precious few folk really know! Apostrophe’s Apostrophes. Like tiny ‘Sword’s of Damacles’. Theyl'l hang there, messing with you’re head, (or just ‘get on yer tit’s’ instead!) Ther'es one way out of this, however. Kick their butt’s, by being clever. Study grammar; lets’ not fight. Let’s, simply get the buggers right! ___________________________________________
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
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