Ode to my Coffee Cup.

Whether filled to the brim with coffee,
Or what passes for water from the tap.
You cheer me up as I lift you up,
And enjoy your liquid repast.
Then no matter how I leave you
It’s always patiently you wait.
Ever ready to refresh me again
When I’m working early or late.
So maybe your cup’s full of coffee,
Water or juice that stains.
Thank your porcelain pal
When you lift it to your lips again.

The Last Wasps of a Late Summer

The unexpected Indian summer
At September’s ending.
Seems to be signalling
The last of the year’s wasps
To make their final flight.

On sun-warmed stones they gather
Like aircraft carrier planes.
Launching themselves into the sky,
Dive bombing windfall apples,
Gorging on the sweet treat.

Then again into the air they spiral,
Spurring each other on
To rash kamikaze stunts.
Until the most reckless collides
with the blades of my lawnmower.

Helping my nephew with his home work.


The chair in my house has only got two wobbly legs
So I’ve propped it up with a brick and book instead.
Now as I wobble in my chair I fancy a cup of tea
Luckily the kettle’s boiling turning water to steam.
The steam starts mixing with the oxygen in the room
Sending spinning my sister’s helium filled balloon.
My mom and sister laughing at this joke
Spurt out their noses orange juice and coke.

Being an uncle I am sometimes called upon to help my nephew with his home work or various school projects, last week it was his cardboard model of the Colosseum (don’t ask ) but this time the home work was more up my street.

This week I was presented with some science home work about gases, solids and liquids, not too bad I thought, I should be able to cope. Then my sister said that the home work was not of a scientific nature but that a poem had to be written about the following items. Representing solids , a brick, a chair and a book, representing  liquids, water, coke and orange juice and representing gas, helium, steam and oxygen.

Putting to one side the fact that the science home work is to write a poem I rose to the challenge and here is the finished article written by myself and my ten-year old nephew.


A poem dedicated to anyone who found my site searching using the words Bulmers cider or blue eyes.

Hello and welcome to my poetry blog , chances are you are here because you like poetry but you also might be one of the rising number of people who stumble on my work using the phrase , ” Bulmers cider ” or , ” blue eyes. ”

I have no idea why these phrases are so popular in directing people to my blog but if this entry isn’t what you wanted to find here is a poem dedicated to you which I hope you will enjoy before you continue your search.

Welcome accidental visitor to Skaggy’s poetry site,
Are you a fan of poetry ? Or maybe you might
Be searching for cider, Bulmers did you choose ?
Or are you an optician looking for eyes oh so blue ?
Anyway you’re here now so welcome to my world,
There’s a lack of eyes and cider but plenty of words.
So apologies if after reading your search must go on
But I hope you have enjoyed this poetic diversion ?
And whether it made you laugh or want to vomit,
I would be grateful if you could leave me a comment ?

Modern Nursery Rhymes.

Blowing the dust off some of my old poems I found these lurking in the archives, if my memory serves me correctly they were written for a poetry book and some or maybe one was published but I can’t remember which !


There was an old woman who lived in a  shoe – the modern version.


There was an old women who lived in a shoe,

She had so many children, she didn’t know what to do.

So for all the fathers she went and sort,

And made them all pay child support.




Humpty Dumpty – the modern version.


Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.

Humpty Dumpty sued the owners,

And won himself a nice cash bonus.



Little Miss Muffett – the modern version.


Little Miss Muffett,

Sat on a Tuffett,

Eating her takeaway.

Along came a killjoy spider,

And sat down beside her,


” Do you know how much calories and saturated fat is in that tray?”



Jack and Jill – the modern version.


Jack and Jill went up the hill,

But soon forgot about the water.

As Jack turned on all his charms,

And now Jill’s got a daughter.

I’m very sorry about the state of the loft.

I’m cautiously venturing into my loft
Wandering what it might be full of.
I point my torch which shines bright
Curious as to on what it will alight.
And it reveals boxes here and boxes there
So many boxes scattered everywhere.
Almost seeming as if in fright
To be shrinking from my torches light.
More boxes huddle under roof beams
Bulging at their cardboard seams.
Threatening to reveal what they hide
When they burst and spill their insides.
I cautiously ventured out of the loft
Unsure what to do with what it was full of !



Based on my unfortunate foray into my loft at the weekend when I was under the delusion  it would be easy to tidy it !

Irritable Bowel Symphony

A rumbling stomach is the overture
To my irritable bowel symphony.
Followed by the wind section blowing
A most unmelodious harmony.
Then the percussion in my stomach
Crashes and beats in empathy.
While I conduct it all grimacing
From the toilet cubicles safety.


DDOcast 233


DDOcast episode 233 is up and ready to listen to via my sidebar link. I also put in a surprise segment with some poetic competition entries which you can listen to by the link below.


competition time

These are a few of my favourite things

Mayo on chips and strong real ale pints,
New Dr who and buses arriving on time.
Parcels from Ebay all tied up with string,
These are a few of my favourite things.

Chicken Kebabs and strong mocha coffee,
Clean public toilets and treacle toffee.
Pushing my daughter on her new swing,
These are a few of my favourite things.

Time off work and weekends that go slow,
Rainy days so the lawn I can’t mow.
Freshly cooked beer-battered onion rings
These are a few of my favourite things.

When my internets down
When my alarm rings
When I’m feeling sad.
I simply remember my favourite things
And then I don’t feel so bad.


No apologies to ” The sound of music ” whatsoever , I had to watch you every Christmas before the invention of the video recorder so here is my version of your most irritating song.


You to me are perfect
While I think I’m no good.
So I’ll try to correct this
As anyone should.
I’m going to change my life
Just you wait and see.
Then I hope you’ll be my wife
Because perfect I’m going to be.
I will give up drinking,
I will do the washing up,
I will give up bath time singing,
I will put your new shelves up.
I’ll feed your cat for you.
I’ll wash your car for you.
I’ll paint your house for you.
I’ll have a child with you.

I’ll get up early make your favorite breakfast, you know the one I don’t like and put it on a tray with a red rose and glass of orange juice and wake you sweetly with it in my hands.


The problem is I’m not perfect
Where as you are just so good.
You might want to correct this
As anyone should.
So I’ll let you change my life
So I can surely see.
That you will be my wife
Because perfect I’m going to be

I will try hard to get fit,
I will stand in shopping queues,
I will stay off the Internet a bit,
I will pretend I like your new shoes.
I’ll be nice to your parents for you.
I’ll watch chick flicks with you.
I’ll fight anyone who annoys you.
I’ll provide alibis to the police for you.
And I’ll secretly murder anyone you don’t like and bury them at midnight in a shallow grave in the woods so they will never bother you again.


You will tell me if you think I’m trying too hard?