100%

Over heard in a bar!!!!

If you disregard number fifty two

Who really never had a clue

All her lamming had its cost

Every lamb she had was lost

nursed under lamp and bales of hay

The poor old thing has passed away

.

Eight and twelve I've been instructed

Don’t count because they’re tax deducted

Fifteen ten and twenty eight

We are still waiting because they’re late

They always give birth to octets

Well-fed and treated like pets

.

Ninety four and thirty five

There was a scare but still alive

Not counting ewes that are too old

And the ten soon to be sold

We are feeling quite content

This year we’ll hit hundred percent

.

Congratulations praised a hearty drinks all round

with fallen stock collection there's no burial mound

a question of 'orns

The agricultural college agreed

To allow the field trip to proceed

The farm to visit chosen at random

Farmer Brown was sent a memorandum

.

Students arrived full of good cheer

Some I admit still worse for beer

In their smart trainers and anorak

With designer labels on the back

.

Farmer Brown not use to talking

Mumbled and pointed while he was walking

The students were such learned folk

At his lack of science they had to joke

.

They questioned him on expected yield

Fertility ratios of the field

Bacteria build up and worm rotation

And of Penicillin resistance formation

.

The students now given the head

Paid little attention to what Brown said

The field trip becoming grim and dreary

Talking to the arrogant of theory

.

To engage in conversation denied

The helpful student questions tried

Said one student can you tell to me

Why that cow has no horn to see

.

Said Brown with a twinkling eye

‘orns is ‘ard subject, but I’ll try

Some cows ‘as ‘orns that grow out

So they can waggle um about

.

Some ‘as ‘orns that go right you know

Some go left and some won’t grow

Some has ‘orns of different size

Some up some down towards their eyes

.

Some ‘orns are thick some are thin

Explanations I’ll not know where to begin

That ‘orn less cow I know of course

‘Cos that cow’s me bloody ‘orse

for you my son

lying on his deathbed
he calls for his son
I leave everything to you
you know what must be done
the son looked fondly at his dad
not knowing what to say
from now life would be serious
gone are days of play

gone are the fleeting windows
when you are debt free
gone are the days so idle
of leisure activity
gone are days of fancy cars
and friends that call for tea
to live life like a hermit
in abject poverty

he didn't much like livestock
cows, sheep or horse
so why can't he just sell up
or turn into a golf course
he hears the young lamb bleating
a bottle must be due
a cow is stuck in calving
that needs help to pull through

there is poultry at the back door
trying to get in
the seed corn is delivered
so ploughing must begin
he knows now the carefree youth
and money has sadly gone
scrabbling in the boot rack
to put his wellies on

a man should have

A MAN SHOULD HAVE

...for every gadget he’ll ever need

An instruction book he’ll never read

A MAN SHOULD HAVE

..a place where he can be alone

Sanctuary from the mobile phone

A MAN SHOULD HAVE

...encouragement and praises said

When alive not when he’s dead

A MAN SHOULD HAVE

... a place where he can cry

Without people asking why

A MAN SHOULD HAVE

...a hand to hold not asking why

A gentle squeeze and loving sigh

A MAN SHOULD HAVE

...a lover that can see

The man that he wants to be

A MAN SHOULD HAVE

...a past forgotten but lessons learned

Some remains of the wage he’s earned

A MAN SHOULD HAVE

...an ideal worth fighting for

Achievement without a need for war

A MAN SHOULD HAVE

...a feeling of sheer delight

When you hold your partner tight

A MAN SHOULD HAVE

...sanctuary from adversity

And a book to note the anniversary

A MAN SHOULD HAVE

...I love you freely said

When alone before bed

Melvyn the Bored - Colour - for children and not so young

In the land of the north wind, and long snow filled gloom,

when the sun rises and sets each side of noon.

Around the fires of the long houses they sit and tell tales.

They retell Sagas and stories of long boats and sails

of times long gone when spirits took on solid form

in the grand hall of Valhalla all cosy and warm.

Of Odin, his throne and of the hammer of Thor

Of Tyr’s sword and armour the great god of war

When Huginn and Muninn Odin’s great ravens soared

And the naughty step for Melvyn the bored.

In the school for the gods where knowledge was told

Apprentices learnt from magicians so old

That spoke in soft words with monotonous drone

The pupils would nod off and distraction were prone

In reception class seven poor Melvyn stayed

For in none of the exams a good score he made

So in the same class he is destined to remain

Listening to the same lessons again and again

As the teacher talked on in his most boring style

Melvyn in a miasma slipped out for a while

.

Huginn and Muninn the messenger of Odin followed on to see

what trouble Melvyn would get up to sat by the sea.

They should of told Odin of his escape from school

and breaking of the educational rule

but Melvyn was a kindly child that stroked Huginn’s rough cheek

and smoothed his course feathers too far from his beak

for Huginn was such a scruffy bird.

And being smart was completely absurd

Muninn also thought kindly of Melvyn could see nothing wrong

for he loved to listen to Muninn’s rough songs

and loved the sound of his raucous shrill voice

he was their pet not wisest of choice

The apprentice god Melvyn the bored

Hid in the cave while ravens soared

Looked on the world of black and white

Only colours made for day and night

In those bleak days of old there was no colour it had not been made 

everything was either black white or grey of some shade.

All were happy with that so there was no need to change anything, EVER

and no one was to change it, never, never, never

All were happy except one that was bored with day and night

Bored with grey and all things black and white

Melvyn sat head in his hands looking at the sea

bored so bored as bored can be

When Huginn enquired if all was well

or was there something to Odin that he should tell.
 No I’m just bored I don’t know what to do

I want to be famous like Muninn and you.

“To be a true god he would have to be, let me see

An inventor of forces or of chemistry

Then you might be useful like Muninn and me”

“Chemistry what can that be,

is it something easy and simple for me?”

“You might be good at it if you only tried”

said Huginn that knew he already had lied.

Melvyn was inspired at the encouraging word

and thought he’d do chemistry or something absurd

Many rocks and salts due to expire

He threw in his new toy that he called fire

A noise outside then caused him alarm

Was it a travelling god that could do him some harm?

All the rocks and the salts due to expire

Along with the stuff that made things like fire

Threw all in a source pan is what he did

Then with all force he screwed down the lid.

The god flew past not stopping to see

If anything was in the cave by the sea

He was too busy carrying his load

To hear an old source pan about to explode

Before Melvyn could take off the lid

The source pan exploded and Melvyn just hid

The cave came alive with sparkling light

Produced three colours novel and bright

The sparkling colours of red yellow and blue

Poor Melvyn was at a loss just what to do

If Gods were annoyed they would have him slaughtered

So he washed all away with dull salty water

But as the water rushed out his cave

What ever it touched some colour was saved

And so as the water flowed in and out of the cave

more colours escaped with each passing wave.

Each drop of water passed the colour on to the next

all water drops now beautifully convect

although each drop of water is crystal clear

if you pass a light through it all the colours will appear.

Huginn and Muninn flapped around trying to push colour back

and soon every colour of the rainbow stuck to their back.

If they returned to Odin like this they would take the flack

so they cast a spell to turn themselves back to black,

the only things in the world that were black

The colours flowed onward spread by the sea

Was this an improvement did all gods agree?

Not all were impressed not Odin I fear

That promised to clout the young god round the ear

“No” said Freya it’s a gift you will see

Does red really look that good on me

Frigg a goddess whose virtue so true

Said does my bum look too big in blue?

Then up popped Aegir as mad as can be

Said whose been playing with my dark sea?

My dark waters of black marine

Some one has turned into blue and green

This colour thing I'm not really keen

My one eye’s dark blue and the other light green

Astrid the goddess of love from her slumber

Looked at the colour of her little black number

I loved my black dress it was my delight

Went perfectly well with accessories white

Now there’s no Black or shades of grey

What was wrong with black, is all I shall say

They called for Baldur the god of peace

And asked if he could make this colour thing cease

Alas, colour is here, it won’t go away

But I could just add black white and grey

Thor alarmed said they should ration

This colour thing that was now fashion

Odin smiled his knowing smile

This will occupy the ladies for more than a while

While they decide what colour to wear

That goes with their nails and colourful hair

The male gods could go hunting, race round and do war

Battle dress and camouflage is what colour is for

Bright medals with ribbons and silver galore

Rank, status and order something else to explore

All gods seem happy with their colour display

Expect Melvyn the bored who was in dismay

When only school uniforms like his remained grey

fold the flag

Fold the flag triangle make

Hand it for the widow to take

Brass bands play soldiers lament

Lonely women with solemn intent

Fighting men such courage shown

Leaving families all alone

Honour those that gave so much

For a flag that she can clutch

The gun salute the marching bands

The emptiness where she stands

Show courage she knows she’ll fail

Red eyes behind black veil

A life exchange for flag of cotton

By tomorrow she will be forgotten

cruelty on farms

Time to speak of cruelty

Of suffering and pain

About the poor creatures

On hill farms wet with rain

I see them struggle onward

Working beyond endurance

If they fail they are doomed

Not covered by insurance

.

They rise in early morning

Work well in to the night

Given little shelter

Punished if do things right

Suffer from poor health

From chemicals and spray

With spoors of fungi in the lungs

They cough and cough all day

.

These poor communal creatures

That with others to be, are meant

Have a solitary existence

Work on with grim intent

Mud thick is all around them

It clings and saps the strength

For all other creatures comfort

They will go to some great length

.

In winter the extremities freeze

Constantly stamp their feet

Water tanks of solid ice

Each morning do they meet

A prey to agricultural reps

And bank manager’s charmer

Please buy your food locally

And save the poor hill farmer