I wish I was a potato, lounging in a field,
Dreaming of being scrubbed and delicately peeled.
I’d aspire to being dauphinoise
But that would take some class I guess.
Maybe I’d be chunky chips
And hang around with spicy dips.
Or I could be some creamy mash
Whipped up with butter in a flash.
Maybe I’d chill and watch a show,
Being a magnificent couch potato.
Another year older and what have I done?
I’ve held on to my sanity and had lots of fun.
I went to a boot camp and did a zip wire,
Screaming so much like my ass was on fire.
I went to a film set and had my throat slit,
It looked really gory but didn’t hurt one bit.
Inglorious in concert and Wayward Sons too,
Electric Six was a blast, and Dick Valentine, woo!
The Emmerdale weekend was of course a highlight,
If I ever missed that my year wouldn’t seem right.
Met Michael Madsen at London Comic Con,
A chat with him and my legs were gone.
I went to a wedding that was full of romance,
I felt all happy and in a love trance.
I relaxed in Jersey with walks along the beach
And got mugged by a seagull with the loudest screech.
I left my job as it was getting a strain,
Went back to my old one for the sake of my brain.
Book number four was hot off the press.
And I ate too much fudge, I must confess.
I met lots of new friends to add to the collection,
I really do have such a wonderful selection.
If this following year is even half as much fun
I’ll be a bouncy, jolly, happy bun*.
*Unless I meet Judd Nelson, where I’ll spontaneously combust,
And drift of in the atmosphere like sparkly purple dust.
As I laze here in post-Christmas slump
I’m drinking coffee via a pump.
I look like I’ve eaten an inflated space hopper,
I could explode any time, like a giant party popper.
I’ve scoffed so much sugar I’m turning into fudge,
You’ve done the same so please don’t judge.
I need to roll off the sofa and partake in exercise,
But to the muscles in my legs this might be a surprise.
Bring out the salad, it’s time to detox,
My skin’s breaking out like some kind of pox.
A healthy new me will now atone,
Oh, look over there, some rogue Toblerone.
Slow flowing blood boiling just like hot jam,
My legs are swollen and smelling of ham.
Sticky sweat coating me with salty brine,
Telling myself it’s going to be fine.
Internal organs cooking up a treat
Turning to a Full English in this heat.
I have no energy to try to speak,
My limbs are heavy and feeling so weak.
My make-up’s melting all down my face,
My lungs constrict like I’ve run a tough race.
I’m tetchy, snarly and starting to growl,
Factor fifty plastered on with a trowel.
Handfuls of ice cubes go into my bra,
The sanest idea I’ve had by far.
Hating happy people loving the sun,
I want it to rain and spoil all their fun.
With my red face looking like salami
It’s not a heatwave – it’s a heat tsunami.
I can’t stop the tears rolling down my cheeks,
My pain still raw as days turn to weeks.
Time will heal so I am told,
Yet grief clings to me like festering mould.
You were taken too sudden away from us all,
I wish I had the power of time to stall,
I would tell you how much you meant to me,
A dad not in name but a dad to me.
I’d thank you for loving and looking after my mum,
For all my memories in our family album.
I’d tell you I loved you every day,
The words in your life I never did say.
My heart feels now as weak as yours
And into infinity my sadness pours.
My mind beats fast when I think of you,
My heart dreams vivid colours so true.
A mix of emotions run through my veins,
A tribe of wild horses released from their reins.
Fear of unknown adventures ahead,
Wondering where fate this time has led.
Excitement coursing through me so fast,
A little bit cautious due to my past.
You’ve touched my soul in this short time already,
I feel euphoric, blessed, giddy and heady.
I’ll let you inside to the core of me,
If you’ll cherish my heart I’ll give you the key.
You’re stuck in my brain and I can’t set you free,
You’re having a strange effect on me.
I want to swim with you in lemon jelly,
Cuddle nude while watching the telly.
Write your name on my book in permanent ink,
Fly high through clouds of candyfloss pink.
Words tangle like spaghetti when I try to talk,
My mouth feeling like crumbling chalk.
Your smile thrown my way starts my tummy to spin,
Head all giddy like I’ve been on gin.
If I held your hand once I might just explode,
Leaving my bits all over the road.
You have no idea what you do to me,
If you felt the same I’d scream ‘yippee’!
Fresh flowers of pink and purple delight my eyes,
Soothing scent, aromatherapy for the soul.
Silent figures cluster closer saying goodbyes
Full of raw emotion but showing self-control.
Ghosts waltzing through fresh dew with an elegant grace,
Lovers, re-joined, time is no longer their keeper,
Free to celebrate joy in eternal embrace
After having fought then welcoming the reaper.
Weathered headstones submerging like abandoned ships
Tilting at harsh angles, pleading to be redeemed.
Black crows like mourners survey from up high on crypts
Judging stern over souls that were not what they seemed.
Fate and disease, war heroes’ forgotten glories.
All of humanity lies beneath, now at peace.
Study the headstones and imagine their stories,
Young and old taken too soon or blessed release.
Come to my silent place, my time stopping haven
Where thoughts unfurl from flowing stream to tranquil lake,
Here my worries and fears are laid bare and shaven
And stillness encircles me with comforting ache.
I’ll wait in my silent place serenely for you,
No need to rush as time is my gentle friend here,
I will wait until you are ready to come through
And hold you so closely to smother all your fear.