That’s for me to know, and you to find out – A Poem

Where have you put the fire extinguisher?

The oven’s been playing up lately,

It should be moved to the kitchen

If we want to live more safely.

That’s for me to know, and you to find out.

 

I’m late for my hospital appointment,

Where did you put the car key?

If I’m too late, I will have to pay a fee.

That’s for me to know, and you to find out.

 

My favourite song is on the radio,

Where is my hearing aid?

It is not very often

That I hear it being played.

That’s for me to know, and you to find out.

 

Bathtime Slips – A Poem

I have begun to feel quite afraid

Which I never used to, at all!

My bath has become very slippy

So I’m afraid I will slip, trip or fall!

 

I came by a “firm-hold” bath mat,

Though it makes me feel rather old.

‘Twas on a cut-out aimed at the elderly

And I couldn’t resist its resistance to mould!

 

It has a spongy exterior,

With special, secure suction caps.

This should relieve my anxiety

When I bend to reach for the taps!

 

I chose the transparent option

It’s subtle and will blend in more.

Rushing to put it in place,

I prepare for rubber duck galore!

 

Deciding to play it safe

I first try it sitting down,

I wiggle my buttocks from side to side,

Though my smile turns into a frown.

 

Something here is very wrong –

I quickly get to my feet.

Looking over my shoulders, I find

It didn’t make a very good seat!

 

The suckers are glued to my bum –

I’d placed the mat upside down

Vigorous tugging won’t even release them

I must look like a right clown!

Roger’s Food Stores – A Poem

This is a tasty orange

Suck, suck…

My pip pouch will be empty

With a bit of luck!

 

I finger the string around my neck

And pull the pouch into view.

There are three old pips inside

But never mind, it will still do.

 

I leap off the sofa

And pucker up my lips,

I spit for the last time

Adding to today’s pile of pips.

 

I smile to myself.

I head for the cellar

To find what I sought

Oh, I’m such a happy fella!

 

Here I keep many tins and cans

I call it my personal  beanery,

For there are only beans inside –

Red kidney, black-eyed, canellini…

 

Sometimes I must count them all

To make sure I don’t run out,

But there are clearly plenty of each today

I can see, without a doubt!

Bladder Man – A Poem

He comes in the night

While you’re fast asleep,

My windows are shut tight –

He’s nothing but a creep!

 

He fiddles with the latches

And brings with him, a stick.

It’s difficult to sleep at night

After what happened to poor old Nick!

 

If you hear a “snap!”,

You know that he’s inside;

His rubber glove is on –

Time to get up and hide!

 

He’ll put your bladder on his stick

If you stay where you are,

So be sure to cover your pelvis

Or you won’t be going far!

 

This poem is based completely on a nightmare I had as a child.

Morning Breath – A Poem

I have many good friends,

But the best one is Seth.

We eat a lot of food together,

Mainly because he’s a chef.

 

But you see, the thing about Seth

Is he has the most horrid morning breath.

In description, I fear

The only suitable word is death.

 

I swear I’ve tried everything

Such as offering him a mint,

But he never fails to decline –

It seems he can’t ever take a hint!

 

Lately I have realised

That I just cannot cope,

And it is beginning to get

Way beyond a joke.

 

In the end, when he next said

“Can we meet up soon?”

I said “From now on,

I’m only free in the afternoon!”

Kinky Massage – A Poem

I’m so very excited

For my massage today,

It’s in a special place

Where I always enjoy my stay.

 

I lie excitedly on my front,

It starts out very normal.

Even though I’m mostly naked,

The conversation’s still quite formal.

 

When the session nears its end,

I still feel largely at ease

But the best part’s still to come…

Oh, the therapist’s such a tease!

 

As my anticipation increases,

Covering my skin, are goosebumps.

The feather tickles me all over,

And I giggle as it caresses my rump.

Tense Fruit – A Poem

In the fruit bowl

I am a fumblin’

Because this mornin’

My stomach is a grumblin’.

 

I really fancy something sweet

The perfect choice is a plum,

So I give them all a good squeeze

Using my forefinger and thumb.

 

My fruit is very tense today

And also quite large.

I think they need to relax a little

Maybe I should give them a massage?

 

I pick out the softest plum

And roll it roughly in my hands,

But I slip and do a little juggle,

So on the kitchen tiles, it lands.

 

I brush the dust off my plum

I soon need to be fed,

But it’s just as hard as before

So I go for some chocolate instead.

Prominent Nipple – A Poem

What is that I see?

It can’t be….

Nought but a prominent nipple!

 

I say to my wife,

“Is that there to stay?

It didn’t used to look like that –

It was normal yesterday!”

 

“It doesn’t bother me” she says.

“And I believe there’s nothing we can do”.

But I respond by saying

“I’d prefer if it was on you!”

Windy Crevice – A Poem

I was walking in the Grand Canyon

Far down below,

When the air grew a bit cooler

And the wind started to blow.

 

I wrapped my arms around me

And pulled up my hood,

I picked up my pace

As quickly as I could.

 

It was starting to get dark

So I went to make my ascent,

And hoped that all that wind

Had not blown away my tent!

 

But a rather wide crevice

Gaped at me to my right –

The wind tugged me inside,

Taking me deeper into the blackening night.

A Good Scrub – A Poem

I’m feeling very hungry,

What shall I have for dinner?

Maybe a quick lentil loaf –

That could be a winner!

 

Smiling, I grab the ingredients;

Oats, tomatoes, lentils….

And frolic around the kitchen

Picking out the suitable utensils.

 

With the ingredients prepared

In the blender they are thrown,

And I feel quite proud of myself

Because for once I’m cooking alone.

 

I hold the blender in both hands

As if I’m throwing pottery,

And then move one hand to the cupboard

To reach for some crockery.

 

But I quickly begin to lose control

Of the blender as it rocks around,

And before I can even mutter a curse

It falls with a mighty crash to the ground.

 

My mouth wide open with shock,

Splattered all over me is my grub,

All I want to do now

Is strip off and have a good scrub!