Sunday Teatime

(Picture Credit - Newthwaite House Lounge from Google) 

All shrubbery around is shaken by the wind

As smoking grey clouds threaten rain.

But I sit snugly in my lounge

Idly contemplating a chicken-breast tea.

The long heatwave is over

For now.

Atlantic air has swept the mugginess

Aside.

Thermometers have settled down

While cooler moisture sooths our very souls.

This lounge of mine presents a landscape too:

Of settee, armchairs and table

Along with dining chairs and TV:

Mountains over carpet savannas.

But the kitchen calls me from next door

So no matter how lazy I feel

I really have to eat now.

This interlude must end

So very soon.

Paul Butters

© PB 29/7/2018.

Who Needs Words?

Who needs words

When you can simply go ???

Or !!!

!!!

This poem will not make me any £££

Or even $$$

But I don’t give a ****.

I just love writing 100%

& don’t **** a d***

About £££££.

I <3 to experiment with poetry and language,

Stretching those *****aries.

OMG let’s have a good LOL

And even ROFL.

Let’s play the %s

And send my spell-check

Into a red frenzy.

Any ???s ?

You !!!s at this *****???

And I’ve only scratched the ~~~~~

There may be ####, #### more to come.

I <3 my Qwerty keyboard

With it’s !”£$%^&*()_+ at the top.

The more I look the more I see.

@ last I’m free

From the Grammar Nazi.

=ly free from the tyranny of the word.

But worry not my lovely words

For I will always go <<<< to you

In spite of looking >>>>>>>

At all times.

The ***

Paul Butters

© PB 28\7\2018.

Everyone Dies

(Picture Credit - God Letting Go by PD Mag com)

Life clings on

In deserts, ice sheets and hot acid pools.

Those selfish genes persist:

Batons in a Marathon relay race.

Generation follows generation.

Clone adds to clone.

So life spreads:

The mightiest empire,

Covering all the globe.

A world full of living wonders.

All manner of plants, insects and animals.

Oceans teeming with fish.

From tropical paradise

To awesome glaciers.

We must be mindful

Of this glorious beauty.

Mother Nature reigns supreme.

Sing and rejoice,

Party hard

And put aside

The awful truth -

That in the end

Everyone dies.

Paul Butters

© PB 26\7\2018.

It's Over

(Picture Credit - Evening Standard - Jack Wilshire - Iceland Defeat)

It’s over, all over.

Our dreams have faded away.

Blackest January sadness blights July.

England beaten by Croatia

In The World Cup.

We reached the semi final

For the first time since 1990

Only to lose in extra-time:

Failing to see the danger

With our very youthful eyes.

So much to be proud of.

So much better than before.

We should have scored a hat-full,

But see the final score:

(One – two).

I really do hate losing

Whatever I watch or play.

It really will be ages

Before this pain fades away.

My defeats I long remember,

It’s from these things I learn.

Seeking to be a winner,

My inner passions burn.

We’re building to the Euros,

On in two year’s time.

Well ahead of schedule,

So losing’s not a crime.

The World Cup stays way out there,

Hopefully just on loan,

For in the hearts of England

Football has come home.

Paul Butters

© PB 12\7\2018.

Coming Home

(Picture Credit-Daily Express)

You know the song

So bring it on.

Football is the theme,

And England is our team.

We invented the modern game,

So losing is a shame.

But we are going to win.

Let the celebrations begin.

Bring on Croatia,

We know we can outpace ya.

As for France,

We’ll lead them a merry dance.

If it’s Belgium we’re happy too,

They always let you through.

Though nothing is ever certain,

Until the final curtain.

We’re owed (a lot) from Lady Luck,

But so long as we win, I don’t give a…

It’s time we won again,

Making boys into men.

I really hope we win:

Prepare for quite a din.

History could be made

That will never ever fade.

Paul Butters

© PB 9\7\2018.