Everyday things!

GRAVY.

Ah! Bisto – we all used to say.

The power of the T.V., advertisement.

We all came to know the Bisto family.

 

Grandma used to thicken the essence

At the bottom of the roasting the beef,

Thickened it with cornflour, or a drop

of Yorkshire Pudding mixture.

 

At home with mum and dad,

We had Yorkshire Pudding with

Onion gravy as a starter.

We had our roast beef dinner

With gravy, of course.

Then, our dessert course,

Yorkshire pudding with sweetened milk.

 

As an elderly wife, now in 2017

I use Yorkshire Puddings made

By Auntie Bessie – 4 minutes in the microwave!

BUT !  I still make traditional Gravy to pour over.

BUT !  I do use, not an OXO cube but a stock pot jelly.

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Wedding Dress for Sale. Never worn.                                            300 words.

Marie was excited, John had asked her to marry him, they were feverishly planning the Wedding. John told her “I will provide your Wedding dress”. She was shocked, the choice of her dress was occupying all her thoughts. John was firm about it, telling her the dress would be brought to her by Courier on the morning of the wedding.

The day came, Marie paced the floor waiting for the Courier. A motorcycle pulled up at the gate. She rushed outside. The black leather clad figure handed her a box. Marie flew up the bedroom stairs, ripped the cardboard box open. There laid a cream dress. “Cream, cream, who wears a cream dress”? Tears began to roll down her face. Reluctantly, she decided to try it on. The dress slid over her head, she knew it was all wrong. It had a smell. The neckline was all baggy, the waistline drooped, the skirt hung like a wet lettuce.

Why did John think she would want this dress? It was so outdated. Marie looked sadly at her reflection in the mirror. No way would she wear this dress! Taking it off and folding it to go back in its box. A paper was sticking out of the tissue paper

Once it was smoothed out, she saw it was an Invoice to Miss Aggie Brown.

Marie phoned John for an explanation,“Why have you sent me Aggie Browns dress? His reply shocked her, “Aggie never wore it, she died two days before the wedding. You looked so like her I wanted you as her replacement.” Maggie shouted at him, “I am not her replacement, I don’t want this dress, I don’t want you!” John said, “Sell it then!” Both phones cut off at the same time.

Monday’s Child is fair of face,

Tuesday’s Child is full of grace.

Wednesday’s Child is full of woe.

Thursday’s Child has far to go!

Friday’s Child is loving and giving

Saturday’s Child works hard for a living

But the Child that is born on the Sabbath Day.

Is bonny and bright blithe and gay.
—————————————————–

Friday’s Child.

I am fair of face,

and full of grace.

I am loving

and giving…..

But, in my head, I think I am

six foot tall with long legs,

blonde hair and blue eyes.

But Yes! That is all very well!

In reality, I was born on a Friday!

But Now!!   I am 79 years old,

I have green eyes, I am short and fat

With greying hair.

I am full of cold,

Coughing, sneezing and sweating.

And feeling rubbish!!

 

GRAVY.

Ah! Bisto – we all used to say.

The power of the T.V., advertisement.

We all came to know the Bisto family.

 

Grandma used to thicken the essence

At the bottom of the roasting the beef,

Thickened it with cornflour, or a drop

of Yorkshire Pudding mixture.

 

At home with mum and dad,

We had Yorkshire Pudding with

Onion gravy as a starter.

We had our roast beef dinner

Then, a sweet course,

Yorkshire pudding with sweetened milk.

 

As an elderly wife, now in 2017

I use Yorkshire Puddings made

By Auntie Bessie – 4 minutes in the microwave!

BUT !  I still make traditional Gravy to pour over.

BUT !  I do use, not an OXO cube but a stock pot jelly.

Clouds.      Anon.

C is for cloud

Crumpled

And crying

Cumulus

Cirrus

Coverings

                                                                                                  

Clouds by Christina Rossetti.                             

White Sheep, White Sheep                                 

on a blue hill,

When the wind stops

you stand still.

When the wind blows

The Plastic Bag.

The carrier bag is a very useful thing,

for carrying your shopping home.

Once they are empty…. what do

you do with them…  that is the thing??

 

Do you throw them in the bin?

hide them in a cupboard?

Do you fold them up neatly?

Blow them up and prick with a pin?

 

Do you let them have freedom?

To live a bag-life, blown by the wind.

So they can fly the thermals to

rival the birds in height and speed.

 

Is it good for them to have freedom?

Is fair to let them blow and whirl about?

What dangerous adventures they can

have dodging cars on the motorways!

 

Is it good for them to have freedom?

to be stuck in trees, to be deep in the sea.

To be put over heads of murder victims?

Or worse, the self-harm of suicides?

 

Plastic bags alone can live forever.

They do not choose to biodegrade.

What will the Geo-phiz of future

generations make of our plastic bags?

 

WW1. The Army is Recruiting.

In 1914, the Army was visiting

Villages, looking for strong young

Lads. Necessary, for the War Effort.

 

They had to be strong lads, with a

Certain height and chest measurement.

Selecting the Villages best.

 

Parents happily signed forms.

Their son was ‘Doing his bit.’

Excited sons, looking forward to going.

 

The day came, A Band arrived to lead

The teenaged sons away from home.

Proud boys followed the band.

 

Trains took boys to camp,

For Basic Training. Officers taught

The boys to March and to ‘Know their place.’

 

Wearing new but ill-fitting Uniforms, nervous

New Recruits wondered what awaited

Across the English Channel in France.

 

‘It will be over by Christmas.’

Rang in their ears, anxious now,

Of thoughts of all left behind.

 

Landing in France, then marching,

Marching into the War Zones.

Bolstering up each other’s courage.

 

They cannot have imagined what

War was, or meant. The tree-less

Countryside, the Trenches and noise.

 

Going forward to Front Lines, to go

‘Over the top!’, their fears, the smell.

The knowledge that this day could be a last.

 

Death, destruction, demoralised and

Distressed boy soldiers remembered

Mum’s dinners and apple pie.

 

Unable to cope with the lack of comfort,

Some poor distraught boys ran away.

Not meaning to desert but getting out.

 

The sick and frightened children were

Captured, returned to base, tried and

Sentenced to be Shot at Dawn.

 

Officers chose their Pals or colleagues

To join the Firing Squads and pull the triggers.

The Order was given, Bang! A boy dies.

 

Of those boys left behind, hopes and spirits

Die too, never to rise again. This War, that

Begun as an adventure turned to destruction.

 

What did the once proud parents and

Villagers feel like when they were

Informed the Village boys were

Shot at Dawn,

For Cowardice or Desertion.