March 24, 2015

♥ - Woody Woody Wuv Hearts - ♥

                                                                                 Kept things simple and silly this week!
Still standing there, that rugged tree
adopted by both you and me

we watched the world from way up high
all love 'n' stuff  into the sky

our perfect hide-away from school
playing both the owl and fool

a knight clad in maroon and grey
you stole my very soul away

just off that homebound shaded path
we kissed, we climbed, we sung, we laughed

catching leaves that fluttered down
you twisted them into a crown

for I became your wood princess
all floaty in my week-end dress

fading then regaining shoots
deciduous  from hair to roots

with careful chips we carved our heart
the time had come now to impart

it meant so much, so much to me
us spending time around that tree........................................

adult years now bring me back
retracing steps and stirring tracks  

announced yet in the here and now
amid the blossom, bark and bows

an arrow thwacked and cutting through 
initials joining me and you

a solid tree destined to last
oh, how these years have whizzed by fast

my first true love, my heart's big deal
oh how I wished that you were real 

March 19, 2015

Streets Petite

Just a rushed job from me this week - mind went into cantbearseditis and stated there tonight - I may return tomorrow to edit. This is fairly shitty!  

A patriarchal landmark traditional and tight
  not obsolete nor populous just sweetnesses and light 

Little village luring, with a wry historic smile
  cobbles, gaols  and folklore to both frighten and beguile, 

Curves along with character, mysterious and proud,  
  always something happening but very seldom loud

Gulls a constant nightmare with their daring swoops and pecks
  shops and public houses gain the utmost of respect

Floral scents and sea foods, pastries and parfait
  a potent breath of yesteryear for you to take away 

Houses thatched and steadfast, reach the roof edge as you stand
  streets' adjacent windows sees the neighbour's holding hands

The huge protecting steeple guarding all within it's view
  counts more visitors than residents forever held in lieu

Return for pure perfection never-tainted souvenirs
  a whisper venerating for the whole wide world to hear

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March 05, 2015

Dear Adam

Dear Adam,

Please remember to put a note on the shopping board to say we've run out of shampoo and conditioner.  Washing machine liquid pouches do a pretty shit job of untangling bedraggled manes.......


March 03, 2015

Froth Off

Nein! Nein! Nein!  It's bathtub time
    should cleanse the guilty and sublime

Staring, daring in the raw to
   bubble up within Grimm's law

Praying, staring at the door
   the slightest noise one can't ignore

Eva's razor left behind, no Braun
    to make sure her blades glide

Dirty, flirty boots to clean
   a fuhrer's passion so pristine

Quelling, smelling, edelwiess
    few words said but so concise

Actor, factor, years to come
   secrets washed with bath ring scum

Nein Nein Nein!  It's bathtub time
    be careful with that dirt and grime

Hates, berates each finest hour
    refuse his offer of a shower.............................


February 28, 2015

'Aw For Seany's Wedding (Part One)

In my absence from Blogger those long, trying months where, quite frankly, I feared widowhood upon me, there were happier, uplifting and gracious days through the darker ones, the best being the wedding of my stepson, Sean.

My hubby (The Cheaper Half) and I each have a child each from our first marriages, my daughter ,Kerri, of course, being the other.  The pair were used to each other at access weekends and holidays, ect.  Sean and Kerri became remarkable close, especially through their teenage years and shared cigarettes laughs, alcohol loyalty and discreet tattoos other interests. 

Over the years, life took them off to ventures and places new and Sean and his father lost touch once he moved from the area.  Kerri had also settled in London with a wonderful hubby and her dream job.  Years passed and on one of our phone calls, Kerri passed on the news that there was a relative of Sean's asking how we were all doing.  So cutting a long story short and some credit (for something good this time) to
Facepuke, we were all back in tough again.  And in remarkable co-incidence given the size of Britain, Sean had settled with his fiancee and kids just a mere 15 miles away from Kerri in Oxdford.

The step-sister and step brother with their respective partners met up a good few times and before long Seany's wedding came about and I have to thank Kerri and her hubby James for the travel and hosting arrangements. We probably couldn't have made the wedding without them.

 Circumstances went that we were unable to arrive in London until the night before the wedding, meaning The Cheaper Half and his first born were reuniting for the first of a very long time, at the church just prior to the service. The instant those arms went around each other brought tears to everyone's eyes....leaving the gals having to reapply the mascara before the bride's turn to do that came along.

What was more poignant than anything though was Seany telling his dad it was 13 years, 7 months, 2 weeks and 2 days since he last saw him. That was scary said out loud. In a fast-paced life time passes so quickly, you never seem to clock the years accurately.  All I know is despite the reason for not keeping in touch, the heart never lets go completely.  And now the future holds plans anew.

Interspersed in this post are some of the wedding pics most speaking for themselves (which may bugger up my grammer into weird sections) so please  click on the bigger pic. Outside of all the marital stuff, is a day to remember for so many reasons.  It is true what they say about absence and heart.

February 24, 2015

Gullable Travels

the prompt took me an unusual route this week as I viewed it as humans unwillingly being drawn into the mouth.  And as I always stick with the first thought that comes into my mind (apart from one shameful time) thus doth ended it up, like........innit......sorta fing....

We're head to toe in questions, finding answers without proof
holding on to anything the mind accepts as truth.
We struggle with the present , can't foresee, or won't recall,
lest it unfurl there in front of us, some won't notice at all.

Doubt those hanging gardens now the lighthouse beam ran out
those falls will minimize you as you stand and scream and shout.
Aurora holds on to the night and shocks the midnight skies
defying all that wonderment in spectral alibi's

Encouraging our children to believe in certain things - 
stout characters clad all in red, enamel thieves with wings
Knee high men in shades of green, their rainbow's end to find
cocoa ridden rodents with foiled goods to leave behind

Visitors from other realms, whispers in the ears
eyes that see but never sought, until one disappears
Clairvoyant, tarot reading, message carried in the stars
a higher force then, to decide, what is and isn't ours?

Demons, angels betwixt thoughts, in anno Domini 
heavenly dimensions, hell flames scorched across the skies
Followers that shrink then grow, impending storms and views
Gods, protectors, idols, drawn into that finale ruse

Believe or non-believer, comfort given, losses gained
left to our own devices, either willing or ordained
We'll perform the whole world over in the Circus Of No Sense 
amongst our many life forms let the show of life commence.


February 18, 2015

Just A Matter Of Maturity

Why Little Girls Mature Quicker Than Little Boys........


February 17, 2015

Shush! M'Lord Shush!

                           That's what I love about these prompts - they take me places our of the blue!


                    The court is once more in its session, 
                    the accused standing there in the dock,
                    Her smile just a dirty-life lesson, 
                    as she stares at thy man in the frock

                    The jury's been sent out a message, 
                    not another adjournment allowed
                    As she stands nonchalant without presage, 
                    her particulars sought and avowed

                    Some wonder about motivation, 
                    how the story took time to collate
                    Arrested and charged at the station, 
                    then an urgency to mitigate
                    Not quite committing a murder, 
                    of marriages though, one might say
                    Never fearing a door made from girders, 
                    till death leads her to judgement day
                    She will not be making plea bargains 
                    or changing a word of her brief,
                    Leaving wigged ones to spill out the jargon, 
                    of this potent and hot red lip thief

                    The verdict presides there in blue ink, 
                    no more time to forgive or begrudge   
                    Or care what that whole courtroom might think, 
                    when you're secretly screwing the judge............................!


February 14, 2015

Love, Loss and Lullabies

It's been  a crazy sort of week.  The biggest and best news was hearing that my darling daughter Kerri, and her hubby, James, have been accepted by the council and social work to become adoptive parents.   Over the next five months they will be undergoing training and assessments and then it will be a matter of presenting a case to the courts and deciding on the child that will be so lucky to have them as parents.   I may be a grandmother again in time for Xmas!  I'm so proud of them both.  Some would give up the ghost after being unable to conceive as it can mentally and physically drain.

On a sadder note, my cat, Boaby, died.  Such a strange death as he literally just got fed, jumped upon the couch to go groom himself and a few minutes later fell on the floor dead.  I felt it for my hubby as I wasn't there and he tried to revive him by similar means as one would give a human.  After reporting the death with the vet, he said it could either have been a heart attack or aneurysm.   He was only nine and otherwise fit.  He now shares a grave space with the other two cats we've had over the years.  He wasn't an overly affectionate cat, more entertaining and the only one he ever trusted holding him was my son PeaPod.  I'll miss his following us about the garden and streets.  We clipped some fur from his tail and chest which my hubby is going to make into a fishing fly and calling it The Boaby Dazzler.  He won't be using it mind you, it'll be kept in the glass case beside his other creations to memorialise him.

And to finish off  this rather teary week,  PrettyBoy and his girlfriend got engaged - totally out of the blue!  Brought me back to my own engagement to his father.  We were in our flat watching The Proclaimers' first appearance on Top Of The Pops, when he piped up:

  'Wanna get married, hen...?'

No ring, bended knees or romantic gestures,  just the two of us in opposite chairs sitting  puggled after just putting our firstborns to bed after a hectic day.  I gave a little 'whatever' grunt in reply.  How's that for romance?  At least my son done it in fairly fitting style with ring and surroundings!

I'm leaving a video of a song I've enjoyed listening to over the years which, despite the lyrics, hold the bumpy ride of marriage wonderfully.


February 09, 2015

Heavenly Housewives

                                       Can't believe it's been 7 months since I last was here!  I'm back and plan to keep it that way!        

From top to bottoms, sighs controlled
and busty sighs in clouds of gold
She worries over skin and limbs,
her little cherubs dance akin

To strew her palace, endless toys,
sticky fingers, mess and noise
A routine balance now to pot,
a lover of her own free thought

No marching orders listened to,
awaits the voice of you-know-who
The second he glides through the door
their naughtiness abides no more

He cannot understand her fuss,
no subject matter to discuss
Just adoration all for him -
her darling little nephilims 

Bedtime calls and seizes them,
it's off to la-la-land again
While mother hangs up wings and breath
so very little she has left

To go towards another day
where morning steals her knight away
For battle new and battles won,
angelic daughters, saintly sons.


October 22, 2014


Just for the record - I haven't effed off completely. We've had quite a time of it recently but will post more detail at a later date as I'm pressed for time right now. All I can say meantime is that I'm lucky mt hubby's still here among us. I'll resume normal service soon. I'm missing Magpie Tales and my bunch of regulars (especially Jon, Geo, Anne, Keith, Gwen, Doria, Richard, Helen) and all my Magpie Tale regular authors. I do aplogise if I'd missed anybody out! Regular Lena services will be up and running again soon....... Helena...XxX

July 22, 2014

The Fruit Loop

Forgive my passing footsteps and not stepping in your store
Despite your displayed fruit and veg being a brilliant lure

You see, my hubby grows his own, despite those grubby nails!
His hard work goes to highest lengths and nature then prevails

He grows fantastic produce, due to mighty love and care
Spends more time out in other beds than our one up the stair!

From apples, pears and strawberries, broccoli and beans
He's a man of many textures, sizes, smells and shades of green

So forgive my meantime absence, and now *cough* please beg my pardon
For I have an  effing genius who rules the entire garden

How tropical he makes the taste, a greenhouse full of mixture
Around the world in 90 days, one hot and glassy fixture

Though summer never lasts that long, right to the end he'll toil
To the last exhausted fruit that's saying goodbye to the soil

Until winter takes a hold again, I'll have to pass you by
I'm getting portions of my 5-a-day, from my green-fingered guy!


July 21, 2014

Dear Adam

Dear Adam........

Next time you forget your key and need to climb through the bathroom window, could you please close it firmly again instead of wide enough to let the cat in.  It's awful coming home to shredded toilet roll.  Especially if you are a lady......


July 17, 2014

Now He Nose!

Earlier on today we needed to clear a space in the attic to access repairs on the roof.   It is a place that we visit rarely, usually only to get the Christmas tree down.  Amidst a huge lot of McScrooge's fishing junk equipment was an old photograph.  This was the first time I had ever saw it but I knew right away it was my grandmother and grandfather.  She looked the spit of my oldest son, Ross/PrettyBoy.   He has the same facial features - especially the button nose.

I knew of the photo's existence but really have no idea how it ended up in my attic but I know my siblings and I usually share out such keepsakes so we all have bits to our past.  Of course, I was bequeathed the painting of my Grandmother as a girl, after my father's death, and it hangs in the middle floor of the house.  She has looked down upon us for 10 years now and will do so until my own grandchildren come along.   It's doubtful any future granddaughters will be named after her - my name was shortened a letter to Helen as it was more in touch with the 60's apparently!  I reverted back to origins of my name once I was interested in blogging. I'm sure she'd be happy about this now! 

There, unfortunately, is a bit of damage to the picture but given the amount of even more junk goods in my attic it escaped total destruction being fragile.  Sadly, I never did inherit her button nose and clear blue eyes but took after my Grandfather more.  Now, at last, PrettyBoy may believe me that  (despite the photograph being black and white)  those baby blue eyes actually came from somewhere down the family line and he wasn't vainly solely blessed with them to complete his 'package'.


Memories of my Grandparents are very clouded.  I was five when they died, within months of each other.  But from what I heard they were a very happy couple , musically talented, with some of the best genes a family has ever worn!


July 13, 2014

Threadbare Harlot

Covered it in carpet, polished it with paint
leads right to the very door where naughty boys acquaint
Feet of different fittings, climbing up the stairs
And yet… He remains in bed Staring at the ceiling She cries softly on the couch Feeling broken, used Just a receptacle for his need While she remains empty She fingers her phone Thinking of the invitation there Very casual A shared cup of coffee Nothing more, and yet She reads the real invitation In the depth of his eyes When he looks at her She wipes her tears as she thinks of fidelity and promises… He walks into the living room Suddenly shy She tries to cover her body With her red see through lingerie Her black hair covering her mascara streaked eyes He kneels down in front of her Pushing away her hair His eyes searching hers And holding t - See more at:
a fine day for hypocricy that is or isn't theirs

A steady flow of regulars, some more fresh of face
others terrified to even rid of her her lace
Descending down the carpet, guilt and shame and God forbid -
pray mum, the wife or clergyman won't find out what you did!

Neon lights they sizzle from the sign above her room
her nightly ritual smelling of cigars and French perfume
A quiet word of warning for the older gentlemen - 
to watch the threadbare carpet as they head back down again

A rowdy few, a roughland gang, can terrify and scare -
she'd scream out loudly for the cops, but they're already there!
Ridicule and nastiness, occasional bad blood -
sometimes the carpet caught their toes to land them with a thud!

A handsome little virgin, trying hard to keep his quest
spent the entire twenty minutes simply laying on her breast
Despite his intact youthful bits and less than manly dare
his feet would never touch a step for walking on pure air!

A copy of The Harlots House lay on her bedside table
Grace became her name and friend as far as it was able
Saw her through the game of mostly staring at the ceiling
a story that walked up the stairs and down with it's own meaning


Farewell soon to this, her means, with earnings vast and mighty
a little house all paid for, from this back street Aphrodite
Carpet colours, piles so thick and patterns to boot
a perfect fit throughout the house, for just her  little foot!


he looks up at the ceiling and wonders How life has changed him - See more at: to believe this carpet is just a decade old,  secrets to let free........havana on it's knee

July 12, 2014

One Girl - Two Cups Of Flour

                  Why it's not a good idea to ask Kerri for a hand in the kitchen!

My darling daughter is always reaching out to those less fortunate.  She's made and donated food and drinks for the homeless and certain other charities - especially at Christmas.  Thankfully, this lot was for a ladies night in at her house!  I'm hiding the scales before her next visit!



July 10, 2014

Turkey Necked Tourists

I buy your general run-of-the-mill women's magazines a lot if there is footy on the telly  (and there has been loads of that recently).   I have made a bit of money over the years from having photo's and poems etc, published but I like to do puzzles as the boys roar abuse at the box.  Mind you, the puzzles aren't all that challenging (apart from Sudoku which I am utter shite at!) but it passes the time in a lazy-arsed way. Occasionally, I do online entries but never won yet.

  Often in these magazines they repeat stories of the same nature.  The cases of the Turkish toyboys and the stupid, desparate older women who are drawn in by these greasy slime-balls take the whole biscuit barrel. The story that shocked me more than others was the one of Mary and Vitol.  Vitol was 26 and Mary was 72.  She was targeted and groomed wonderfully by this man.  He was a handsome Turk whose silver-tongue won this silver-haired old numpty over.  In less than two years he managed to marry her.  Naturally, he didn't get granted a British visa - never even set foot on British soil - and instead settled for plan B.  Conning her into selling her house, she posted him the vast majority of the proceeds from it so he could  "make a love-nest''  back home in Turkey for them.  Thinking everything fine, she took a flight to Ankara to surprise him and he flipped out saying he hadn't wanted her to come until 'their' house was ready.  After two years of toing and froing the lira finally dropped.

So here was a case where a 26 year old felt  'love at first sight'  with a crinkly face-and-arsed 72 year old.   All it took was menial gifts, walks in the moonlight, (coz daylight was too embarrassing) texting and waterworks, to suck the life and means out of an old dear.  She didn't listen to the words of warning her offspring gave her when it came to selling the house and valuables.  Of course, being in love meant sex on tap and the young foreign man had to shag this powdery old puddock to seal an aura of truth between them.  Apparently, he loved her saggy bits, rash under her tits , baggy breeks, removable teeth, thinning hair, and failing eye-sight (every 26 year old man's dream girl!)  But just how blind was she?

In the wedding photo she wore her hair in pigtails in a desperate attempt to look younger.  The wedding officials' smirks in the pictures with them read  'yet another mug'.  You hear of older 'cougars' having a bit of fun with a toyboy, if fun is where it starts and ends. But it is also a shame that some grandchild could be missing out on some future education and financial security.  It's just a bigger shame that many stupid old slappers are being taken for a visa. What they really need is a mirror and a reality check!

July 06, 2014


They think of him as a little mad                           
consistency not a thing to be had
Feels not like red blood that flows in his veins
just a liquid concerto to capture his gains

An artful John Doe with eccentric guile
a clouded up basis for that ruthless smile
Moving around without wing, without wheel
some pertaining to him as a quick, gracious steel

Staring across the same crowded-out room
time for his business and bite to resume
Cements himself firm in the dimly lit corner
a bonafide nightly, morality mourner

Kisses the girls, the boys even better
posting himself like a brutal chain letter
Soon to engulf in narcotics and sweat,
a foul morning headache's as good as it gets

Mother and nature in pair didn't care
Father's hand, like his pride, simply never was there
Blessed this only child's rife ballyhoo
atonement for birth, but just who's fooling who?