Procrastination? I Need To Think About That

Would becoming more decisive be a good decision? I’m trying to decide…..

TPOTG Procrastination with frame

I’m pondering on something that I have just heard,
It’s “procrastination”, an unusual word;
I’m trying to decide if I’ve heard it before,
I think I might have, but I’m not really sure.

Five syllables long, but what does it mean?
I need to find out, (hope it’s nothing obscene),
But I can’t decide where I should look,
Should I go online or refer to a book?

Perhaps ask a friend, but then again, maybe not,
Just in case I didn’t like the answer that I got,
And anyway it might not speed up the task,
As I’d have to decide which friend I would ask.

Should I look this morning; or this afternoon?
Or investigate tomorrow? Today is a little too soon.
Maybe I won’t look at all, oh I just can’t decide,
But there’s no need to rush, I’ve got time on my side.

I think I need to reflect and have a tea break,
Or would coffee be better, help keep me awake?
And the tea or the coffee, in a mug or a cup?
So many decisions, they just keep mounting up.

My voyage of discovery may well be life changing,
So the pro’s and the cons need careful arranging;
I just must be wary as my enquiries are progressed,
Don’t want to do anything that might leave me distressed.

Perhaps it would be better to postpone my investigation,
And forget all about the meaning of procrastination?
At least I feel sure, well, with near certainty,
That procrastination won’t have anything to do with me!

 

Township Dog

One of the saddest sights in South African townships are the large number of neglected, hungry and maltreated dogs that roam around. 

TPOTG Township Dog with Frame

I don’t have a name,
No one ever loved me that much,
And from when I was a pup
I’ve known no gentle touch;
You see I’m a township dog
And ever since my arrival
My days have been spent
Fighting just for survival.
No bowls filled with food,
I scavenge scraps instead,
And I sleep where I can,
There’s no comfortable bed.
I’m often unwell,
But there’s no vet to arrange,
I’m covered in fleas
And my coat’s full of mange.
The long winter’s nights,
I find nothing is worse,
Those freezing cold winds
Are this thin dog’s curse.
I keep out of the way,
Or else I get kicked,
And for illegal dog fights
I hope I’m never picked.
At avoiding deadly traffic
I’ve become quite adept,
A parental skill
I’ve thankfully kept.
I don’t know another life,
Being part of a home,
Being loved and cared for,
Not being left just to roam.
As kindness is not something
I’ve ever known,
Then trust is not something
I’ve ever shown.
But who cares about me?
Why should I be saved?
I’m just a township dog,
Alone and afraid.

 

Diets Can Be Dangerous

Christmas and New Year celebrations have added to the waistline, a fact confirmed by the scales, so it’s diet time, although there are risks associated with that…

TPOTG Shower Waste

 

And so today my diet begins,
A necessary penance to counter my feeding sins;
Over indulgence, unnecessary eating,
All the wrong foods together competing
To increase my waistline, add a new layer of fat;
Well this diet will wave goodbye to all that.
No more carbs at breakfast, lunch or dinner,
And as the weeks pass I’ll get thinner and thinner,
Until very soon precautions will need to be placed
To ensure I don’t disappear down the shower waste!

No Year Resolution

Here’s one New Year resolution that I know I will keep.

My New Year’s resolution
Is perfectly clear,
It’s not to make resolutions
For the New Year.
Self-promises made,
Like some ritual token,
No matter how earnest
Are sure to be broken,
Leading to frustration and guilt,
Such bitter pills to swallow,
So tradition, I’ve decided,
Is not something I’ll follow.

 

 

An Escape to the Country

We’ve made our escape…..have you? 
 
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Away from the noise,
Away from the grime,
Away from the traffic,
That steals our time.

Away from drab buildings,
Uninteresting places,
Away from the graffiti
That so often defaces.

Away from the signs,
The enforced restrictions,
Away from the malls
And those shopping addictions,

Away from the crowds,
The commuting lifestyle,
Away from grey faces
That never smile,

Away from the cameras
That keep a record of us,
Away from the commotion,
Away from the fuss.

An escape to the country,
An escape to more space,
An escape to a life
At a much gentler pace.

With fresh air to breathe
And bird song to hear;
And people with time,
Life drops down a gear. 

The Sunglasses’ Nightmare

You know what it’s like when you put something down, but you just can’t remember where…..

I looked for them here, I looked for them there,
I looked for those sunglasses everywhere.
I looked in the kitchen, I looked in the hall,
Where had I put them? I couldn’t recall.
Searched the lounge, even looked in the loo;
Without my sunglasses what would I do?
Should have walked the dog before the sunrise,
Now the sun is too bright, it will hurt my eyes;
Looked through my office, turned files upside down,
The smile I woke up with had turned into a frown.
I just need my sunglasses, I need them to wear;
Oh the frustration!  I was beginning to swear.
Are they in the car? Took a look in the garage:
Had my wife hid them? No, I mustn’t disparage.
Now getting ever more desperate, even looking under the bed,
And that’s when I found them – on top of my head!

Santa’s Bedford Experience

A brief look at early morning on Christmas Day in Bedford…….

So what happened in Bedford
On Christmas Day?
Did Santa arrive
With his reindeer and sleigh?
Well, Pete couldn’t feed the reindeer,
It’s been far too dry,
And without food for the reindeer
Santa was unable to fly.
So to ensure the presents
Arrived on your hearth,
Santa used a scooter
That he borrowed from Garth.
So we had the sound of put-putting
Instead of the sound of hooves,
And sadly no sleigh perched
On Bedford’s tin rooves.
From his new petrol pumps
Wolfie provided free fuel
And there were drinks from SPAR
To help keep Santa cool.
As Santa passed Hope Street
Charles played him a song
(Sounded like Cliff Richard,
Although I could be wrong).
Abby tried to sell him a house,
But Santa didn’t have time,
Said on his return to Lapland
He’d take a look online.
Couldn’t stop for a portrait,
So Ken got frustrated,
And there was no time for Les
To get social media updated.
So there you have it,
No reindeer, no sleigh
But I hope that didn’t spoil
Your Christmas Day.

The Night Before Christmas – The Mouse’s Story

“…..’Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse…” We all know Clement Clarke Moore’s wonderful Christmas poem, but did you

ever wonder about that mouse? Well this is his story…

tpotg-night-before-xmas-01

T’was the night before Christmas
And little Samuel the mouse
Could sense the excitement
As he stole round the house.

Something was different,
Coloured lights and decorations,
And strangers in the house
Called friends and relations.

There was a tree that twinkled,
A holly and mistletoe smell,
And candles on the mantelpiece,
Stockings hung there as well.

For an inquisitive mouse
Lots of new things to explore;
Samuel raced around so excited,
Looking for more.

He climbed the sparkling tree,
Surprised the fairy on top,
Then sliding off from a branch
Landed on boxes with a “plop!”

He didn’t know what was in them,
Or how much joy they would bring,
He just sniffed the bright paper
And had a chew on the string.

Then Samuel spotted something,
It was a sight for sore eyes,
A plate there by the hearth
Loaded with sweet smelling pies.

He danced across the room,
Had his Christmas now come?
A plate full of happiness,
Oh what a treat for his tum!

But before he could eat one
Samuel got such a fright
As a voice cried out,
“Phew, this chimney is tight!”

Then soot started falling,
And crash, a man appeared,
Dressed in a sooty red coat,
With a long, sooty white beard.

He dusted himself down,
Took a sack from his back,
And with a “Ho! Ho! Ho!”
Parcels he began to unpack.

Samuel dashed away,
A frightened little mouse,
Went back behind the skirting
Into his safe little house.

As he watched through a crack
His pies disappeared,
Eaten by the old man
With sooty white beard

Then the old man sighed,
“Suppose it’s time I moved on,”
And he went back to the chimney
And in a flash he was gone.

And as Samuel watched this
He was sure he could hear
Clattering hooves on the roof
That sounded a bit like reindeer.

Samuel crept from his house
And to his surprise,
There by the skirting board
Was one of the pies,

And a note that simply said
“Samuel this one is for you,
Making folks happy at Christmas
Is just what I do.”

So little Samuel slept happily
All through that Christmas day,
Full from eating the sweet pie
Left by the man with the sleigh.

 

 

Just a Friday Morning

Not always that easy to find the motivation…..

As the chill morning air
Banishes a few days of heat,
And the rain gently falls,
For our plants such a treat.
A second pot of coffee,
As if by magic;
Not to soak up this splendour
Would surely be tragic.

IMG_1280

The camera shutter clicks,
Must capture the morning
As the mist cloaks the mountain,
Of more rain it’s a warning.
Searching for the energy
To make a start to our day,
Or should we just stay here?
Perhaps we just may!

 

Dog Whistles

But how DO you know if a dog whistle works?

I think I have stumbled across one of life’s quirks
How do you know if a dog whistle works?
Dog whistle manufacturers, now how do they know
That a whistle will work when you give it a blow?

tpotg-dog-whistle-01

Whistle technology is not that profound,
And you know if it works, you can hear by the sound;
But a dog whistle is silent to the human ear,
With a vibration and pitch we’re unable to hear.

So how would you ever be able to detect
If the whistle you’d bought had a defect?
When your dog doesn’t come when the whistle you blow,
Is it your dog or the whistle, how would you know?

Some dogs might object to the whistling sound
Made by the new toy that their owners have found,
So if your dog doesn’t respond, it may be through choice,
Preferring to answer only to their master’s voice.

“Respond to a whistle? Don’t you think I have feelings?
Maybe it’s time to review our dog/human dealings,
If whistling is something that cheers up your life,
Then don’t whistle me, go whistle your wife!”

Sadly all of my enquiries have been in vain,
So as one of life’s mysteries it must remain;
And while the manufacturers aren’t prepared to give us the proof,
Perhaps one day a dog “whistle-blower” might just tell us the truth?