Once upon a time there was a chip shop….


Once upon a time there was a chip shop,
Where we used to eat a meal or two.
Remember how we scoffed away the hours,
And dreamed of all the things that we could chew.

Those were the meals my friend,
We thought they’d never end,
We’d eat and drink forever and a day.
We’d eat the food we choose,
Our trousers always loose,
Those were the meals, oh yes those were the meals.

Then middle age crept up on us,
We lost our fast metabolism on the way.
If by chance I’d see you in the chip shop,
We’d smile at one another and say.

That was the food my friend,
The fry ups that never end,
We’d eat pure lard forever and a day.
We’d eat the grease we choose,
And wash it down with booze,
That was the food, oh yes that was the food.

Just tonight I stood before the mirror,
None of my old clothes did fit me.
In the glass I saw a strange reflection,
Was that balding fat man really me ?

That was the grub my friend,
The kebabs that never end,
We’d eat at least one for every meal a day.
We’d drink the chilli sauce,
For our dessert course,
And next day never go too far from the loo.

At weight watchers I hear familiar laughter,
As the scales loudly speak my weight.
Oh my friend we’re older but no thinner,
As I still eat everything that’s on my plate.

There goes my waistline my friend,
And now I cannot bend,
And it’s a strain to try to lace my shoes.
I can’t now see my feet,
As I waddle down the street,
There goes my waistline it won’t be back soon.

The Optimistic Ice Cream Man.

As the cold wind snaps and lashes
And the driving rain cuts and splashes.
The optimistic ice cream man
Attempts to sell his wares as best as he can.
His van’s tinny chimes trickle out
And against the wind try to announce.
It doesn’t matter what the weather is
Come to my van you hungry kids.
You see if the truth be told
Ice cream can actually be eaten hot or cold.
True, eating it hot can be a mess
But you won’t like the ice cream any less.
But the cold wind still lashes
And the driving rain still splashes.
So as the weather has him beat,
The optimistic ice cream man retreats.
And starts his engine and drives away
Perhaps to return on a sunnier day.

Despite the bad spring weather the other day an ice cream man drove into our street and for a few minutes over the rain all that could be heard was the chimes of his van, summoning one and all to buy ice cream regardless of the weather ! Needless to say he drove away empty-handed.

Spring Beat


The muted tin like tune of an ice cream van,
Joins the relentless buzz of lawnmowers.
Shed doors are slowly creaked open,
And cobwebbed garden tools are clanged.
In the newly budding tree birds twitter impatiently,
Mindful of the meal hopefully to come.
But wary of the children bouncing balls off walls,
Who scream and refuse to wear their hats.
Mums pursue their offspring brandishing sun tan lotion,
While dads ponder and wonder where to weed first.
Decisions are delayed and cold lager cans click open,
As spring returns to the street.


Due to the fantastic spring sunshine the UK enjoyed over the weekend I spent a lot of time in the garden either tending to the attrition it had suffered over the autumn and winter or chasing my daughter around. While I was out there I was struck by the thought that the season of spring I was enjoying had a background beat, it was if my neighbourhood had come to life now the sun had come out. With all this in my head the following poem struggled out over Sunday and Monday and for lack of imagination I call it “ Spring beat