Anton's Ideas

Anton Wills-Eve on world news & random ideas

Category: verse humerous

PAWS FOR THOUGHT


<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/companion/”>Companion</a&gt;

aren’t they everyone’s?

PAWS FOR THOUGHT

‘Springles’, our cat, is black and white

And insists on sleeping with us at night

How we put up with it goodness knows.

Ever slept with a tail right up your nose?

Then being the object of scratching claws

If you try to adjust his outstretched paws.

 

Our cat is also saintly, how can we tell?

By the way he meows his prayers so well,

When purring beside us, eyes shut tight

And head tucked in to keep out the light

As his ageing eyes don’t like the glare

Of our bed lamp shining on him there.

 

There isn’t really room enough for three

On the pillow, him, my dear wife and me.

But no matter how much we try to edge

Him down to our feet he’ll always wedge

His nose and ears up closer to our heads

And he’s vetoed the idea of separate beds.

 

So every night as my wife and I turn and toss

And he wakes us up, we sure know who’s boss

For his hungry yawns at six o’clock each day

Signal breakfast bowl time, then out to play.

Fourteen years now we’ve slept with our cat

But we love him and so we just give him a pat.

 

Do the rest of the family get treated this way?

No! The rest of them have to do what we say,

Sharing the housework, gardening and chores

“Washing up’s mine, today Hoovering’s yours.”

But Springles just lies in the grass and rolls over

Waiting to be tickled. A life of whiskers in clover!

AWE

Advertisements

THE FORK BY THE ROAD


<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/fork/”>Fork</a&gt;

for those who have eyes’ let them hear!

THE FORK BY THE ROAD

it was all alone when there it lay,

unremarked by all and sundry on a lovely sunny day.

just a picnic fork on a plastic tray.

cast aside, nonchalantly I suppose,

by a greedy, sated, bloated nobleman one of those

rich wayside revellers who chose

to quaff Champagne, kept cold on ice

by his ageing, faithful, travelling butler, on whose advice

they had already met there to dally; twice.

she, versed in the art of coquetry not amour,

and hoping to seduce him, through her fake passion once more

and so gain his wealth by pretending to adore

his bold masculine charm, his figure and his face

lauding his charismatic, haunting looks and aristocratic grace.

why else would they keep a tryst in such a place?

poor lass, his secret was well hidden from her mind

she had no idea he was a vile philanderer, a Don Juan so unkind

who wished only to enjoy ravishing his new ‘find’.

like the fork in the road, though without any tray,

on the grass verge, by a little copse, they most immoderately lay

he taking his pleasure ; she hoping ultimately he’d pay

for the rest of her days, and for all that she might need

while he never even thought, perhaps he might plant a seed

that would flourish soon in her and not satisfy her greed.

thus the harsh moral of my story, it is amoral after all,

is never picnic by a road, with a butler watching, or you’ll fall

for a vile lecher who will leave you with what you call

its father, when he reduces you to total destitution

unable to afford a fork to perform on him the type of execution,

 you daily contemplate in your sad state of prostitution.

AWE

WHERE’S DANE?


<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/chaos/”>Chaos</a&gt;

OED definition: Chaos; complete disorder or confusion.

WHERE’S DANE?

 Ticking the register.

“Present Miss Lear”

“Here.”

“Amy, where’s Dane?

“Oh no, not again.

“Anyone see him disappear?”

“Having a fag!”

“Giving Jane a shag”

“Behind the gym

“Smoking with Tim,

“Reading a porno mag.”

“With that tart in the third!”

“Don’t be absurd,

“She’s far too dear,

“But really fab gear.”

“Yeah. Rich, bitch that bird.”

“Probably gone to the game,

“Every week it’s the same.

“His bag, ciggies and booze

“Are behind the boys’ loos.

“Taking Linda this week. Shame.”

The chaos was too much for Miss Lear.

“Headmaster, I’m sorry. I fear

“After hockey today,

“I’ll be on my way.

“I’m resigning. I can’t take any more.

“The class register’s under your door.”

“Er. Miss Lear”, as the bell went,

“Is this really what you meant !?”

The Head read out, with a cough,

“The little sod’s buggered off!”

“I prefer;  Dane, Peter. Absent.”

AWE

SWEET CHARITY


<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/pour-some-sugar-on-me/”>Pour Some Sugar on Me</a>

I love sweet things but boy do they hate me.

 

SWEET CHARITY

 

When I was young 

I abused my tongue

With chocolates and candy.

 

Now age dictates I change my food,

And must eschew what once I chewed

For my cholesterol ain’t so dandy.

AWE

 

ARRANGING A RENDEZ-VOUS


<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/if-you-leave/”>If You Leave</a>

my wife bet I couldn’t keep up rhyming 5-5-1-1 syllables in sensible dialogue past 20 lines so I did 56!

                                ARRANGING A RENDEZ-VOUS

The picture above.

Ted, is of my love,

Miss

Bliss.

Her first name’s Kitty”

My, she’s so pretty.”

True.

To

Be able to see,

It’s from her to me,

I

Eye

It with all my heart.

When we are apart.”

Oh

No!

Has she left you then?”

No. She’s home again.”

Good”.

Should

Be coming here soon”.

Not this afternoon?”

No.

Though,

She wants to meet you.

I hope you can do,

A

Day

Some time next weekend.

Why not bring a friend?”

Sure.

Four

O’clock on Sunday,

Or three on Monday?”

Either.

Neither

Got anything on”.

So, Sunday then, Ron?”

Fine.

Dine

Later, about eight?

Who will be your date?”

Sal.

Pal

Of Katerina,

Down the marina.”

Swell.

Tell

Her it’s formal dress.”

She’ll not look a mess!”

Hate

Late

People. Be on time.”

You will hear four chime!”

Wow!”

Ciao!”

AWE

 

                                              

 

ELIZABETH BENNET AND THE VISITOR FROM TODAY


<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/a-storybook-day/”>A Storybook Day</a>

Prompt:If I could spend one day with a fictional character who it would be? 

ELIZABETH BENNET AND THE VISITOR FROM TODAY

I was walking in this mansion’s grounds

You know, a normal tourist doing the rounds

Of all the houses he was told to see

When a really pretty girl just gaped at me.

 

But what’s she wearing? A bonnet and cape,

And a dress with waist so high, I was all agape

This pert little darling was eyeing me with surprise

Her parasole unable to hide her come hither eyes.

 

I took her for a model, posing to add authenticity

To her surroundings, a truly charming duplicty.

So I entered into the spirit of what I took for a charade

And drew an invisible sword, “Madame. En guarde!”

 

But as I was dressed a la mode two thousand fifteen,

And no sword or opponent by her eyes could be seen,

She shyly asked, in a voice sweet as peaches and cream

Oh, Sir. You are so odd that from the mad house you seem

 

To have made your escape this bright summer’s day

But, if it please you, I’ll never try to stand in your way

Of enjoying a few hours freedom in God’s own fresh air.

But I love the quaint way you have done up your hair.

 

And, oh my, the way that your pair of red breeches

Pass your ankles and right down to your feet reaches.

But my friend I must away to my house, I can’t stay

For soon from Mr.D’Arcy, my lover’s stealing me away.”

 

As I watched her slim figure through the bushes make haste,

And also pictured those eyes, that fair face and slim waist.

I envied Miss Austen the wit to devise such a beauty,

Incomparably more pretty than any modern day cutie.

AWE

 

THE WINDOW CLEANER’S LAMENT


<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/dictionary-shmictionary/”>Dictionary, Shmictionary</a>

prompt? 

 

THE WINDOW CLEANER’S LAMENT

 

I have downloaded windows 10

My laptop’s been updated.

So in all matters technogen

My curiosity’s fully sated.

 

My Wife adores the coloured screen,

But I never told the kids or cat

The rules of using my machine

“Don’t dare touch the keys, or that!!”

 

It took hours to fix with tool and screw,

No time to blog, play golf or eat

I worked all night, the moon was blue,

But today my family gave me a treat.

 

They made me shut my eyes “surprise!”

Gave me breakfast and when it was done

A beautiful new laptop sat before my eyes

“Oh thanks. And it’s Windows 8.1!”

 

Anton Wills-Eve

SECURELESS FOR A DAY


Truth or Dare     SECURELESS FOR A DAY

Citizens, Quake in your beds,

The mighty NCA

Is forbidden tapping phones

For more than one whole day!

Oh how unpatriotic

Senator Rand Paul must be

For security in the USA depends

On what the NCA can see.

Does he honestly believe

T’were better the Brits had stayed,

To guard the US homeland?

(All defence costs to be defrayed!)

AWE

THE BEAUTY QUEEN’S LAMENT


<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/three-letter-words/”>Three Letter Words</a>

just for fun

The Beauty Queen’s Lament

When young, Oh my, could I wow,
The boys as they gazed
At my beauty, amazed,
But please don’t look at me now.

All my mirrors are draped in shrouds.
That outmoded mess,
My beauty queen’s dress,
Would look good with a harp and some clouds.

The make up I wore at the ball,
When I was crowned,
As my world twirled round,
Today looks like damp leaves in Fall.

It is probably mostly the gin.
Jealous friends said,
– But they are all dead –
Make my dimples crease up when I grin.

But I hope I’ve outlived one bitch
Whose malevolent tongue
Was like pure cattle dung.
I hope that she’s dead in a ditch!

 

Anton Wills-Eve

AN INVERSE CURE


<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/fool-me-once/”>Fool Me Once</a>

 

An Inverse Cure

A student, in his early days,
Could not resist the tempting ways
That ladies of the night used daily,
Together with parties, drink and gaily
Lit bars which led in turn to sin,
Committed in low lit rooms within
The poorest quarter of the town.
There his passion rose as he laid down.
To satisfy his carnal needs
He indulged in the most immoral deeds.

But soon his tutors realised his work
Was declining, so gave him quite a jerk.
To make this sinner mend his ways
They changed his studies, so they might praise
His academic texts and talks,
They even bade him take long walks,
And made him give up Greek and Latin,
(Ending his lounging on couches of satin).
They added theology, that he might seek
An understanding, deep but meek,
Of morals and how they could be applied
If he wished to reach Heaven when he died.
And so, happily, he learned to keep God’s laws,
By putting Descartes before the whores.

AWE

 

A RANDOM KISS


<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/what-a-twist/”>What a Twist!</a>

after a prose twist a poetry twist

 

A RANDOM KISS

just a groupie at the big gig
hoping only for a kiss
laden with spring flowers
to say thanks for random bliss

soon the features I had prayed for
were close to me, oh so divine,
those lips needed no seduction
they knew already they were mine

we crept away into the darkness
the blaring music fading fast
locked together,tongues caressing
may our ecstasy, forever last

for breath our lips briefly parted
and I heard a sweet voice say
“You do realise I’m a fellah?”
“Of course, can’t you tell I’m gay?”

 

AWE

THE MISSING LINK


<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/32-flavors/”>32 Flavors</a>

reply to prompt for March 17th.

 

THE MISSING LINK

 

There are thirty two flavors in chewing gum alone,

And in candy there must be many hundreds more.

Doubtless in cakes, chocolates and toffees

There are thousands with your teas and coffees,

While your dog says he’s got millions on his bone.

Alas, in England, we haven’t any flavors. No not one!

But that’s because we live across the ocean blue.

Where we are forced to spell them flavours,

And so miss everything a Yankee savours,

Daniel Webster, where did you put that bloody ‘u’?

 

Anton Wills-Eve 

 

 

Not Tonight Josephine


In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Bone of Contention.”

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/bone-of-contention/”>Bone of Contention</a>

couldn’t resist this chance to write another acrostic poem. It’s not so much about a bone of contention as a ‘Bone- Apart’.  🙂

Not Tonight Josephine

(an acrostic poem)

Napoleon was the ruler of the whole of France,

Oh to his tune how everybody did dance,

Thinking him without any doubt to be

The greatest soldier in the French army.

Only his pretty girlfriend, Josephine,

Now an empress but never a queen,

Invites him regularly for an evening of fun,

Generally after a day of playing with his gun.

Hence his reluctance, so we’ve been told,

To accept her advances, no matter how bold.

«Josephine, pas ce soir, cherie, je t’en prie

Oof, how much your loving takes it out of me!

Soldiering is such a very strenuous thing,

Even so, though, I do love our occasional fling.

Perhaps, Ma Petite, you’re so greatly to be desired,

How about tomorrow evening if I’m not too tired?

Indeed I adore you, Ma Cherie, mon amour.

Nothing turns me on like approaching your door.

Eh bien, Josephine, ce soir let’s try it encore!”.

Anton Wills-Eve

Not Tonight Josephine


In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Bone of Contention.”

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/bone-of-contention/”>Bone of Contention</a>

couldn’t resist this chance to write another acrostic poem. It’s not so much about a bone of contention as a ‘Bone- Apart’.  🙂

Not Tonight Josephine

(an acrostic poem)

Napoleon was the ruler of the whole of France,

Oh to his tune how everybody did dance,

Thinking him without any doubt to be

The greatest soldier in the French army.

Only his pretty girlfriend, Josephine,

Now an empress but never a queen,

Invites him regularly for an evening of fun,

Generally after a day of playing with his gun.

Hence his reluctance, so we’ve been told,

To accept her advances, no matter how bold.

«Josephine, pas ce soir, cherie, je t’en prie

Oof, how much your loving takes it out of me!

Soldiering is such a very strenuous thing,

Even so, though, I do love our occasional fling.

Perhaps, Ma Petite, you’re so greatly to be desired,

How about tomorrow evening if I’m not too tired?

Indeed I adore you, Ma Cherie, mon amour.

Nothing turns me on like approaching your door.

Eh bien, Josephine, ce soir let’s try it encore!”.

Anton Wills-Eve