Humour

The Power of Prayer

The Power of Prayer.jpg

We prayed for rain
And it rained
It rained.

We prayed for it to stop
And it stopped
It stopped.

Now we need rain

What can we do?

My knees can’t take any more.

© Davy D 2017

The Unsociability of Socks

The Unsociablity of Socks

Fireworks

Fireworks

Mad Dogs and Englishmen #2

Fake News

a Cockapoo
went missing yesterday,
snatched from the village street
in broad daylight.

caused a frenzy.
made it onto Facebook,
picture as well,
47 likes,
23 comments.

Parish Council,
County Council,
Outsiders,
Local Police,

they all copped it.

it was down to
potholes,
street lighting,
street parking,
council tax,
(£2000 to have your bins emptied?)

it went viral,
to neighbouring hamlets.
dogs everywhere placed
under lock and key.

turned out to be
a false alarm.

the dog walked back
into the house
8 hours later.

just fancied a wander.

came home because
it was hungry.

© Davy D 2017

Mad Dogs and Englishmen #1

IMG_0361Photo image: Davy D

“Hey dog.”
“Hey officer.”
“Read the headlines?”
“Nope I’m a dog.”
“Savage Dog Attack Shock – Any ideas?”
“Not me, I have an alibi.”
“Bark it Bad Breath.”
“I was at home
chewing some bone
with Miss Daisy.”
“You used that last time.”
“Walked didn’t I.
Jury saw right through you.”
“Today’s gonna be different.”
“What you got up your sleeve?”
“Nothing, but I got a pocket full of bacon chews.
You’re coming down the station.”
“Okay, but easy with the bracelets.”

© Davy D 2017

Poets and Death

Poets and Death

The Last Chocolate

The Last Chocolate

Image Credit: Canva.com

darling

i regret to inform you
the last chocolate
never survived

it got caught
in a battle
between an angel
and a demon

the angel put up
a good fight
but succumbed
to forces darker
than the
mouth-watering praline

sorry

© Davy D 2017

Lists

Lists

Image Credit: Freeimages.com

Lists

keep

us

on

our

toes

cognitive

workouts

for

golden

age

woes

© Davy D 2017

Paper Boys

Paper Boys

Image Credit: Freeimages.com

I’m in shock. I witnessed something today rocking me to the core. At 6.30am, whilst walking, I saw a boy, aged about 14, running from the front garden of a house and jump into an expensive BMW motor car, being driven by a woman old enough to be his mother. At first I thought I had stumbled upon a misdemeanour. I continued to observe and saw the woman lean across, stroke the boy’s hair, and place a newspaper on his lap. The car drove about 20 feet forward, stopped, and the boy ran out, posting the newspaper through the next door along from the house where I originally saw him. This performance continued for each of the 12 houses in the street. Are paper boys not supposed to ride rickety bikes, taunt grumpy old men and be chased by dogs? I still bear the scar on my buttock where Old Wilson’s Alsatian nabbed me at the 34th attempt. And I thought the Snowflake Generation were figments of the imagination.

Precious to the touch
Basildon Bond or Tracing
A Mother’s treasure

Limericks

Limericks