Oh Sir John Houblon you are being withdrawn
Oh Sir John Houblon after 20 years you’re out of circulation
There are 53 million of you out there right now
And your worth of 2.65billion pounds, when did I last see you
You were demanded in the financial crises
People hide you when they were saving up for something special
So you’ve gone out of fashion
You are going to be replaced, DUMPED
You see Sir John Houblon, you are just like Issac Newton
or the Duke of Wellington or even Edward Elgar.
Obsolete, like the pound note, the fiver or the twenty quid
So Sir John Houblon you are replaced with Boulton and Watt
For those people with a ten shilling note, the old one pound note
The fiver the twenty or the fifty pounds you better get them changed
And that wonderful institution of the bank of England
Will exchanged them for something that’s not been dumped


Clock of time

When I blow you my dandelion clock.

Where will you go?

Will you float on the wind and be carried to far away lands

Will you land at my feet and stay where you started life

Will you land on the back of a bird and go to pastures new

Where will you go?

So will you take my dreams with you?

Will they ever come true?

Will my dreams be of adventures in far away lands?

Will my dreams stop at my feet and go no further?

Will my dreams be of pastures new?

Only you my Danelion Seed as I blow you

Only you will know where I will go.

Chimney of secrets

The red bricks are place on the foundation of the fireplace
The build ever upwards around the smoke chamber
As it grows every higher it narrows reaching towards the sky
The beauty in the design as it takes shape on the roof top

Hexagonal, delicately placed to reach the sky
Your twin pillared stack is joined at the crown with a pot
You twist and turn in a star design as you reach the top
Your octagonal body reaches ever upwards

You lift the swirling smoke gently leading the way
What secrets do you hold as they float upwards?
The burnt letter from a lover, a photo from the past
A secret spoken you encase and in your warmness

The embers smolder in your hearth, lie unspoken
You are silent you do not reveal the words that float upwards
As you cool down, the evening has come to an end
Tomorrow there will be new things to hide




My eyes are closed
A pungent smell wafts into my face
As I gasp it fills my lungs
A dry powdery acid taste hits the back of my throat
I gulp, as I breathe deeply I feel nausea
The smell is penetrating my skin, my clothes
Its rotting stench rises up inside me
I can bare it no longer, my eyes open
A Lilly is placed before me
Purple streaks bleed into the white petals
The orange stamen sheds its powder
How can a thing of such beauty have a perfume that is so foul?

Bunny Ears

Today my post is about my nieces latest problem. She is six.


The problem is what shall I wear

What goes with my bunny ears

Sofia says it should be purple or pink

Doesn’t she know my favourite colour is white


I wore my ears to school,

My teacher let me wear them all day

Sofia wanted to wear them, however they are mine

So I said maybe another day.


Mummy said I couldn’t wear them swimming

She thought they would get very wet.

Doesn’t she know that bunnies can swim

I think they would make me go faster,


I wore them in bed last night

They don’t stay on very well

They wriggled around and tickled my nose

I didn’t mind, they didn’t wake me up


I going to wear my white leggings

And my stripy jumper and socks

My favourite boot sand my pink coat

And my bunny ears with no hat.

I just love these words

Inside this Lazarus jewel box

Lies the key to my heart

The box lid is tight as a snout otter clam

To open it there is a secret key

Under the Peruvian hat lies a strawberry top

Which sits on top of a shoulderblade sea cat

Inside the woody canoebubble

There is a Ghastly Miter

Here is the key to the jewel box

Inside you need to make a choice

IS it Tricolor Niso or Triangular Nutmeg

If you can work it out, my heart will be open.