A POSY OF DANDELIONS

crickt 3

A seven wicket haul!

Carried the day

Hard physical toil on a

Sweltering Sunday

About a quintessentially

English village green

 

The quick

Well quickish

Young bowler

Glows with pride

Takes the plaudits

Takes his shower

Dresses

Then off to the bar

Deserving of the

Skin full

He shall quaff

With teammates

 

The weekend over

Back to the grind

He is good at

Whatever it is he does

 

The job gets bigger

In tandem with

His post daily grind

Thirst for the sauce

 

And thus it is

The pub beckons

A few beers

And a few more beers in

The company of

Work colleagues

And fly by nights

Boozed up acquaintances also

Heralds banal merriment

 

Later, in his cups and

In some curry house

A crash pad has appeal yet

His subconscious in over-drive

Home beckons

He’d quite forgotten home

A wife; a young child

 

That he is over the limit

Does not deter him

He drives homeward

Somehow

 

Fumbles with the lock

Sets the dog barking

Slurred speech and a

Feeble gift of a

Posy of dandelions

Mistaken for flowers

Apologies for

Turning up late

Careens this way and that

To an empty

Matrimonial bed

Not that he notices

The significance of that

 

Snores like a pig

Stinking of nicotine,

Alcohol and garlic

He did not hear her

Deliberate sigh

Her audible tut or

Even comprehend

From the face

He didn’t think to look at

Let alone kiss

That to her

Home is

The loneliest place of all

 

Were he not so

Full of himself

Her plight would be as

Clear as the

Nose upon his face

 

Up with the lark

Déjà vu his quest

Can barely wait

Until the weekend

Playing away

A difficult fixture

 

Some months hence

Upon returning home

He will find an empty house

Just a brief note

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23 thoughts on “A POSY OF DANDELIONS

    • True – think it’s my mood presently! We are trying to sell our house and buy another and I find dealing with estate agents more than just irksome. Can’t think of any funny tales of a surreal nature for my skits and aside from this one have dried up on the poetry front! Brain hurts…..herendeth my boring tale of woe. Try writing a verse with ‘herendeth’ in it young Marissa!

      • Very good. I tried a little research to out do you yet failed miserably. e.g. Louis Philip ‘Heren’ (6 February 1919 – 26 January 1995) was one of the great foreign correspondents of the 20th century. He spent his entire career on The Times and was an author of political theory, memoirs and autobiography & deth is an obsolete spelling of ‘death’. You see even armed with that I can’t think of anything. So Louis wrote about deth/death – where’s the fairness in that I say. I think a glass of red is in order!

      • Okay, so would you like to read this obituary written by Louis Philip? It’s Heren deth style?
        Or, too bad about Louis Philip’s passing in 1995. It was a Herendeth?
        Or maybe just horrendous? Where did you say that glass of wine was?

    • Was it a one day wind breaking game or the more traditional five dayer – such is my memory these days? Personally I always felt sorry for the wicket keeper in the longer version – more so when the slow wind breakers were brought into play.

    • There you have me young Rachel! I married first time round aged just 23; a child at 24, a wife older and more worldly than I. It all went horribly wrong. Yet I came out stronger and wiser and never once let my three kids from that marriage down nor did they suffer money wise. I paid well over the odds every month and gave a mortgage free 5 bed house to my first wife; never fought to have the kids as their rightful place is with their mother unless she wished otherwise – which she didn’t. That period of my life was not a happy one yet it was important. It was around that time the ‘black dog’ first visited me (guilt on my part I suspect). He still arrives to feed every so often even now! Christ what a miserable sod I must sound this day – sorry about that!

      • Aww, but look at what a great guy you are now, because of or despite your past. 🙂 So many people on this journey called life don’t realize the ultimate goal is to know more at the end than when you started, to leave the world a better place than when you got here, and to be kind and uplift other people. You do all of those things. And there are so many horrible excuses for dads, you really make a great example that they could emulate. The black dog’s been visiting me lately, too, and eating bits of my very soul. I’m ready for him to move on. *HUGS* to you!

      • I’m truly sorry that bloody dog has stopped over – it is a bloody pain and there is nothing anyone can do to help! Every so often I have found St Johns Wort can lift the mood a bit but not every time. Might be worth a try?

      • It is worth a try – it is a prescription item in Germany for example where it is rated highly. If you’ve never taken it before and your body is not used to it you should get maximum effect. Go for it!

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