Dramatic Aromatic

I love how life can call to us
In many different ways
How cotton feels in summer
Under lots of sunny rays

The feel of leaves against your cheek

A dwindling from the trees
When autumn Maidens wisp the winds
In tiny twisterees

The joy of Spring approaching
Picking daffodils galore
Their stalks all wet and sticky
Your wellies even more!

Then the mighty cool of Winter
The master of all seasons
Captures coloured lights and more
For lots of different reasons.

But all year round, there is one thought
That brings me straight to you
When I sniff the perfume bought for me

From 'aromatic' you..........

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No Good In Bed/Bad

It isn't always transparent but........
Most girls like a bad boy
but they like being bad with a good boy
Even more....

In (toilet duck) tion Week

Through until Friday, Prettyboy is attending university for his Induction Week. Where other campers on campus meet and studies and various body parts and tattoos are compared. His first comment to me on his return of day one was "It's a pound a pint at the uni bar!"  Well, at least he's getting his priorities right. And next week, he fends for himself. Thrown into the wonderful Halls of Residence with bills to budget. If the pictures on his phone are anything to go by, it's a very modern and clean university. And if he don't scrub right round the back of the lavatory bowl at least twice a month, he'll be getting his own initiation present from me on my monthly visitor's pass - namely head down the pan and flushed! Oh, Rossi.......time's almost upon us and I've STILL not found those umbilical scissors......

Grub's Up/Little Nunnery

Time has been a bit of git lately and therefore I've had to post two weeks' worth of Magpie's.  Once I get something on draft I feel obliged to finish it. But for now, here's the poems. Both of them took me a joyous trip back to childhood. Hopefully I'll get round to reading  all the posts buts MT is vastly - and deservedly - growing! Fingers crossed!

GRUBS UP

We never bought apples - just raided the trees
Me, Molly, David and Pippa-Louise
That sour-faced old dragon stood watch at her door
So we eyed up the fruit  in her orchard some more

Hard thing to judge was her various moves
Afraid she'd return as we gathered the goods.
For she'd rather the fruit lay rotting on grass
And so scared to be caught in her nightmare impasse!

But we loved dented apples in wrinkly sheaths
We'd spit out the pips that got stuck in our teeth
We'd brave out the sour taste, inspected the holes
Where a grub or maggot would often patrol

We never bought apples - just raided the trees
Me. Molly, David and Pippa-Louise
 **************************************************************************
 LITTLE  NUNNERY

Every second Sunday, we'd get togged up in our my best,
To make a blessed journey - all skips and hops and rest.

Coins jiggling in my pocket? Checked a million times or more.
Our mouths secrete this tempting sweet  - celestial allure.

We'd ring the bell and stand up straight, smooth the creases from my dress
Greet Mother with a simple smile (and great need to confess!)

Despite her being very old she memorised our names
And placed her hand on every head, her love it did pertain.

We'd get a peek into their house, all beauty and serene
Mahogamy and brass attached to every single beam.

In our peaceful, short duration, her smile wiped us of our sins
As background music waved the air in tones of violins.

We'd buy a slab of tablet - sized in a perfect square
And ensconce a little candle in the iron holder there.

Then the journey back was lengthy, but the sweetness tamed the time
Our home-bound steps were filled with joy and quality sublime

Then time took on a different spin, we grew up all too quick
And phased out our Sunday visits for our teenaged bags of tricks.........

I read the news one quiet day, our Mother with our Lord
Still Superior and humble, gaining her own sweet reward

I  made for her some tablet, bought the brightest, fragrant flowers
And laid them both upon the step, I'd spent my Sunday hours