Every Now and Then

Dumb-drum girls still wearing Ugg boots,
Their feet must be sweating today..!
This Dumb-dumb, I’m still wearing my suit,
As June takes the baton from May.

If we vote no,
It’s steady as she goes.
Vote yes, veto,
Well now, who knows?
We are not voting for a Treaty.
We vote to change, our constitution, Tweety.
My constitution, is at last, feeling good.
Who votes to change that – who would?

Four humans, are now five toes incomplete;
Washed up, on the Canadian shore.
Did you not hear about these four feet?
Catch up, as there may be more…

And it seems that just
One driver is to blame.
One driver who said;
“I’m not driving that train.”
“It’s not part of my job.”
Eh, come again..?!
So his comrades said ’strike’
To back up his claim.

These same drivers
Apparently still paid,
To shovel in coal,
That’s not used to make flame..!
Are they in the right?
Should we not complain?
When does a strike,
Become the last in this game?

You will know true friends
Because they go to ends,
That others don’t,
Or rather, won’t.

The whitethorn trees all look like,
They’ve stolen some wool from the sheep.
As I yawn, I wonder who took my
Refreshment, when I was asleep?

There’s many a slip twixt cup and lift,
John Terry only had the one.
Ronaldo steps up and acts the gimp,
It was lucky that his team won.

Thump, thump, thump – goes my head.
Boom, boom, boom – speaks fool brain.
Up, up, up – out of bed?
No, no, no – sleep through pain.

My three year old likes jam in his,
Sandwiches.
I likes the way he calls them,
Jamwidges.

Cock Roche on the radio bleating
With his patronising voice.
And Same-man Gilmore tells us
That we have no real choice.
If we dare to vote No, there’s no plan B.
Doesn’t seem like very good planning to me.
All political eggs in the one feathered basket.
There’s not enough put-downs and bluster to mask it.

There’s blackbirds and robins having a feast,
Willy wagtails hopping and chirping.
Then a blustery, nearly cold, breeze from the East,
Joins the scene, like a baddie smirking.

Munster did it, they’re off to Cardiff.
Man United are Moscow bound.
Even Leeds are on the brink,
Will Dustin make the final round?

Reasons to be thankful we live on this island;
No snakes or spiders, killing or blinding.
No earthquakes, cyclones, tornadoes or tsunami.
Not saying it’s perfect, but we didn’t do badly.

The posters, they’re up, we’re off and running!
Now, let’s see, who has the most cunning!
The Yes camp, a feast of posters with platitude.
The No camp, at least have posters with attitude.

Don’t get me wrong – I haven’t decided,
And this, methinks, is far from one-sided.
The Shinners, et al, try hard to convince me;
“Ireland – a country – might again, a province be.”

In the No camp, there’s unusual suspects
Some of them, truly, are non-loony-lefties.
Democracy at work? Egos on a trip?
Read the treaty? Or go for a kip?

Summertime weekends…
Spend good times with friends.
Sun shines as it pretends,
These are days that have no ends.

Would Aurthur be angry (hard to tell),
At what they are now proposing?
Roasting barley, only half the smell
And St. James’ gate, half closing.