Wednesday 5 November 2014

Bits (continued)

Her tits are on the mantelpiece,
Her gallstones in a jar.
Her spleen's set in a paperweight,
And other bits of Ma
Are scattered round the drawing room
Set in Perspex, glass and stone.
Her frontal lobe's a doorstop,
And her hip, a telephone.
A frugal woman, Mother,
Not particularly clever.
But she made sure every single bit
Of her would last for ever.


(This is dedicated to all those who commented on my last post. Their comments inspired me to waste twenty minutes that should have been spent on the novel.Thanks, guys. Any excuse... )

19 comments:

  1. Excellent…you should publish your poems. Are you writing a new novel? Hooray….cant wait!

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    1. Frances I'm afraid the novel is a bit stuck. Hence the silly poem...

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  2. That is hilarious, Frances. Frances is right, you should publish your poems, you make us laugh and make us cry and that is a wonderful thing to be able to do (also glad about the new novel) x

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  3. I love these, not really the sort of poem to accompany breakfast. Twenty minutes was twenty minutes well spent.

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    1. Oh Adrian...I waste so much time on this kind of thing. Sorry about the breakfast.

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  4. This is great! I would send it to those people at the hospital/surgery who did not give you your own bits when you were asking for them.

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  5. Thank you for the great start to my day, Frances. I will be happy and productive after reading that.
    Please, pop over to my blog today if you get chance. I've conducted my first author interview. So excited. Happy Writing!!

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  6. Made me smile. A book of your poems would be a great idea.

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    1. Apart from the fact that I'm not a poet, and poems are hard to get published, Maggie!

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  7. Very funny! 'Her frontal lobe's a doorstep ..' Love that.

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    1. You're very kind, Fran. Actually it was doorstop. I don't think a brain would withstand the traffic on a doorstep...?

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  8. I laughed when I first read it and I've now laughed again.

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  9. So funny! I wonder if that's what they did with my spleen?! ;-)

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