I know a young lady called Yvette
Who is a natural brunette.
When she dyed her hair blonde
In my local duck pond
The ducks did very much regret.
When I Die
When I Die
Where will
All these dreams go?
And will I
Be dreaming still?
I do not know.
Does conscience make cowards of us all?
An interesting perspective on Hamlet. “Conscience” may indeed “make cowards of us all”. However, had it not been for Hamlet’s “conscience” (or whatever else stays his hand), we would not have had Shakespeare’s play for Claudious would have met his end shortly after the ghost of his father appeared to Hamlet.

Hamlet is a loser. He turns out to be completely inadequate to the call to action of his father’s ghost, who wants to be rightfully revenged by his son. Yet, he had accurately chosen the most effective words to describe how his brother Claudius had atrociously murdered him and the “horrible“consequences on his body in order to stir Hamlet’s sense of indignation. Eventually, as if he doubted his son’s inclination to action, the ghost even warns him saying: “If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not“. If. He was not wrong in mistrusting his son, in fact, once alone on stage and soon after a first flame of rage Hamlet hesitates and ponders :”The time is out of joint. O cursèd spite,That ever I was born to set it right!”
Can the words of a ghost, even if in the shape of a beloved…
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I Know A Pretty Young Brunette
I know a pretty young brunette
Who goes by the name of Yvette.
Her real name is Kate
And the police just can’t wait
To interview me and Yvette …
I Know A Petite Blonde
I know a petite blonde
Of whom I’m rather fond.
Being in search of romance
I asked her to dance
And we waltzed in her garden pond …
I know a petite blond
Of whom I’m rather fond.
Being in search of romance
I asked her to dance
But she pushed me into the pond!
An Elderly Brexiteer
An elderly Brexiteer called Mia
Said “I have no fear
Of leaving the EU
For the sky tis deep blue!”.
A Remainer named Sue
Made reply
“The sky
Tis turning black
Best take your mack!”.
I sat back
And thought
Ought I
To say “one of you
Does lie
For it can not be true
That the sky
Is both black and blue.
Gossamer
A gossamer belt
I felt
Long ago.
Oh how thin
Is the divide twixt virtue and sin!
A dress it was
Because she called it so.
Her name I do not know
Although I remember the gas fire,
The carpet rough and my desire.
The Glorious Inefficiency Of Local Bookstores
“The elegiac atmosphere is part of the appeal. This bookstore, this artifact from a more literate past, serves as a reminder of values that have, in America, faded like pages in a weathered volume. The small, independent bookstore is simply a place out of sync with contemporary culture, chiefly because its very being emphasizes an appreciation of quietude, romance, and the kind of glorious inefficiency upon which the best of human life rests”.
(http://www.theimaginativeconservative.org/2017/11/local-bookstore-dean-abbott.html).
At the age of 49, (my 50th birthday looms, should that be lurks? Ahead), I can relate to much of the above article. I can recall visiting such places in the company of my late grandfather and browsing. To this day I still relish the scent of bookstores.
Some 15 minutes walking distance from my home, there sits the Bookseller Crow on the Hill, a great independent bookshop, https://booksellercrow.co.uk/. Not only does the Crow stock books, it also carries a range of audio CDs, calendars and postcaards depicting the Crystal Palace and surrounding area.
Independent bookshops are, from the perspective of authors a great place to get one’s books into. Particularly for independent authors, it can be difficult (frequently impossible) to get the big chains to stock one’s work. Consequently I am grateful to The Bookseller Crow for stocking my collection of poems, “My Old Clock I Wind”, http://moyhill.com/clock/. Its good to know that people in the area in which I live can see my books on display in my local, independent bookstore.
Kevin
There Was A Young Lady Of Harwich
There was a young lady of Harwich
Who entered into marriage
With a sailor called Lee.
And when he went to sea
I comforted that young lady of Harwich …
There was a young lady of Harwich
Who entered into marriage
With a man called Hope,
But being unable to cope
She escaped with me in my carriage …
The Kiss Without Love
The kiss without love.
The glove
Full
Of a dull
Release
Will bring no peace