Thursday, November 7, 2013

for PATTAYA TRADER 205 (B)

A-CONMAN-WAS-A-SQUIRE
They just called him The Squire.
While he never carried cash,
he wore a gentleman's attire.
Had a Terry-Thomas moustache.
Find he was an old-timer,
like a grandfather clock.
Could take a woman, dine her
and be the tick to her tock !
Beds bounced, cheques too,
the guy was a real live-wire.
Caught him, the boys in blue,
still chasing what he so deired.

A PARK TREK
I often like to be alone.
Why'd I ever buy this mobile-phone?
When I go out walking
it's not for a-talking
nor awaiting my ring-tone.

I walk, the trees to view
and hear birds sing too.
But what is it I hark?
Cellphones in the park.
Beam me up, Scotty, damn do !

A FEMALE-FLYER'S-FIRST
Ee-by-gum, a Yorkshire lass
flew an aeroplane, bold as brass.
To be a famey
might have been her aimy
but sure it was she got a pass !

WRONGED-TWICE-WAS-
NOT-GHANDHI?
"Ghandhi was a good man,"
I have heard you speak.
I know he was a holyman
who turned the other cheek.

He turned the other cheek,
let bad men twice-strike.
I thought he said two wrongs
did not make a right?

OUT-A-MIST-RISES-THIS-
HERE-SWEET-MEMORY
Beyond the mountain,
behind the mist,
I grasped the beauty
of your hips,
brushed my lips
against your lips,
both to strip
as Time sure strips.
Moved the mountain,
just rose the mist,
a magical caress
at our very-fingertips.

Two kindred spirits,
a fire-kindling kiss.
Back now the mountain,
back now the mist.

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