Bank Holiday

 (Picture credit - Shutterstock)

So many places closed,

And what’s open you can’t get to

For bloody tourists.

Big black clouds are over:

A chill wind blows.

The workaday sun has gone.

Oh yes, it’s Bank Holiday.

The weather is foul

Yet everyone is out.

I can’t get parked.

The crowds slow down

My enforced march.

Our local chippy is closed.

A Doctor?

No chance!

January in May

And maybe in June.

Christmas is worse.

All those needless presents.

Gifts for the sake of it.

Keeping the retailers happy

At our expense.

I’m in a grumpy mood

But who can blame me?

I always try to be upbeat,

But not today.

Paul Butters

It Doesn't Matter

 (Picture Credit - Quotesgram)

 It doesn’t really matter to me

How the universe came to be

Or whether God even exists.

I care nothing about kings and queens

Or anyone “in power”.

For I’m “The One”

Who leads this Life.

No-one else but me.

However impressive you are

You still are not Myself.

All that counts are the people and things I Love,

Even Like.

So if you’ve got nothing to offer me

Get on your bike.

No man is an island, so they say.

Yes, I’m not independent in every way.

But I’m an individual who is true to my soul.

To remain unbrainwashed is always my goal.

They try to make us run with the crowd,

Like sheep or lemmings led into the cloud.

It’s Media Hypnosis

Through that gleaming TV.

Only by being ourselves

Will we ever be Free.

Paul Butters

Pots of Paint for my Canvass

(Picture Credit - Wisegeek com)

People, you are pots of paint for my canvass.

With all your quirks and foibles,

And wonderful ways.

The world indeed is crowded

With many pots of paint:

Glorious views.

My brushes are all aquiver,

Inspired by everything.

From India to Iceland,

Russia to sunny Spain.

You folk, I love to paint you,

Though never your actual words.

The universe, a marvel,

Flying through the heavens.

Swirling spiral galaxies,

Pallets for my verse.

Paul Butters