Category Archives: Uncategorized

Hurricane Bawbag

As amber turned to red in the local Scottish Met,
There’s going to be a mighty wind and it’s going to get quite wet,
Tell them all to close the schools and haud the local bus,
As Hurricane Bawbag swept the land they made an awffy fuss.

As it blew its way through Airdrie, a reporter on the spot,
Asked a local “was there damage?” “aye it’s smashed my best plant pot!

It blew it pure dead sideways and it smashed in aw that rain,
I’ll need to sweep the pieces up before my man gets hame”

Non-essential travel the polis had it banned,
But bookies done a roaring trade up and doon the land
The panic buying started from the tweed to falls of feugh
green rizzlers were in short supply along wi iron bru.

100 mile an hour gusts on Leith blew doon a wa’
But you still saw Leither’s sparking up as they went oot for a blaw.
Cold pot noodle pieces were there to save the day
As the leckie lines came off the poles and in the fields the lay.

The locals were quite worried though, the damage could be bad
If sky boxes came of the walls they’d maybe need rehab.
And now bawbag is over the Glesgie catwalk’s rife
Wi fake uggs, PJ’s and a T that’s printed “I survived”


On a Sunday Summer’s evening
Of a day that had been fine
A couple took a shortcut home
To save a little time.

They took a well known country road
As the evening dimmed it’s light
Till a man, with an axe, by a fallen tree
Said “this way is closed tonight”.

They saw there was a detour
An arrow and handmade sign
He drove and watched and thought he saw
A light from time to time.

The road meandered on and on
And on and on and on
it twisted and turned and got narrower
As the light of the full moon shone

The petrol light was blinking red
As the road came to an end
A house light in the distance
Seemed to be their only friend

He said I’ll walk to get some help
You stay here with the baby
Lock the doors and keep quite still
You’ll be quite safe here…. Maybe

She watched him walk into the dark
And felt a silent chill
She held her baby, locked the doors
The night was deathly still

The minutes seemed like hours
She thought to try and nap
Then her eyes were opened glaring wide
By a gentle tap, tap, tap.

She listened, was she dreaming
Held her breath to hear for more
Then when she thought the sound had gone
Someone tried the door.

She screamed and looked in panic
Out the windows to the night
Where a man stood right beside her
With a blade that glinted bright

Her mind now in a frenzy
With her baby in a clench
To save them both she searched about
And found the tyre wrench

The man walked slowly round the car
Tried each door one by one
She thought I have to do this
To save my baby son

She quickly threw the door ajar
And leapt straight at her foe
The tyre wrench was straight and true
It struck a fatal blow

The body fell and struck the ground
At once she saw her man
And in his hand was holding
A shiny petrol can.

Shopping Mall Mum

Over weight and forty,
Your hairs a blinking mess,
They want to charge you camping fees,
Just to wear a dress.

Your best friend is the telly,
The couch your second home,
No stranger to a burger,
You ask why you’re alone.

Your daily stroll around the mall,
You call your exercise,
You dunk so many doughnuts,
It’s your daily “extra size”.

If all this sounds familiar,
And the character seems true
Stop despairing, waken up,
The answer lies with you.

Pull yourself together,
Start walking round a track,
Stop eating chocolate biscuits,
That old you WILL come back.

JP June 2011

God’s Broomstick

The wind, it’s so peaceful from this bedroom view,
but the mighty oaks grimace as it passes through,
Still I’m warm and I’m safe and feel good when I see,
that everything’s touched by the wind except me.
A spider’s web crumbles, wild rose petals flee,
There! A dead branch has been blown off it’s tree,
But its quiet in my room and I know not to fear,
the whistles and howls from outside that I hear.
The wind is so strong and so practical too,
as it sweeps out the old making way for the new.
And it never stops blowing, working ever so hard,
God’s broomsticks’ relentless whilst cleaning his yard.
A birds nest gets caught and is out of its tree,
the eggs are all smashed the chicks never to be.
The mother is sad but it must have been meant,
why else would this awesome wind have been sent.
And though I sit warm at my view through the wall,
feeling smug with myself, feeling safe from it all,
The wind always looks back, just before its passed through,
to remind me, one day, I’ll be swept away too.
BF Summer 88.

The Piano Lesson

The score from the piano glows,

keys gently stroked as music flows,
orchestral tones that dance with rhyme,
melodic prose in perfect time.
With fingers curled, nails manicured,
posture straight and self assured,
the player sits to take the stage,
they pause, they breath, they turn that page.
Then BANG, IT HITS, the penny drops,
This page is mad, its full of spots,
Those crotchets, minims, semibrieves,
They make you weak, they make you freeze.
There’s counts of one, there’s counts of four,
There’s dots that make you count some more,
There’s flats, those sharps, that natural sign,
But don’t apply them every time.
Cross your thumbs and stretch your fives,
Be careful not to cross your eyes,
Now that italic 3, it means,
Well, no one knows quite what it means.
But then the Treble Clef takes hold,
It’s in command, it’s strong and bold,
It slowly makes the panic flee,
As you quietly find your middle C.
And as the score from the piano glows,
Keys gently stroked as music flows,
The player plays through joyous pain,
Half genius, half hero and half insane.
BF 25.10.07


Never ask to be followed,
First learn to be loved,
And nurture relations in space.
They will first show an interest,
And creep to your door,
Whilst they take a quick look at your face.

Of the billions of tweeters,
You’ll attract one or two,
As your tweets strike a chord in their heart.
What they like they will follow,
And retweet your work,
Then there’s 10, well at least it’s a start.

Then the ten become twenty,
And so it goes on,
Soon there’s lots and they’re looking at you.
So good luck, but know this,
As you journey through space,
It’s a cage in a cyberspace zoo.

JP June 2011

Little Willies

In a little village library
A man rotund and bald
Requests a book on “little willies”
“But I don’t know what it’s called”

The librarian raised her eyes
And placed her glasses on her head
“I’m not sure if it’s in yet ”
“yes that’s the one” he said.

BF June 11


Twitter helps engage your brain, You read you write you think Unlike the box that saps your powers With its pals, crisps and drink

Wishes, Thoughts and Dreams.

Wishes, Thoughts and Dreams.

The thoughts you hold most dear to you,
Arn’t thoughts but dreams that will come true.
And once you’ve sent them on their way,
They’ll grow and gather every day.
So don’t be fooled to think there gone
For one day soon they will come home
To sit with you and there they’ll stay
Be careful what you wish for
it will be yours one day.



PRIVATE SMITH, the Sergeant yelled
I want a word with you
I’m told that you were missing
By the camouflage training crew.

Me! Said Smith, no I was there,
Hiding in the wood,
It’s just they couldn’t see me Sarge,
Cause they’re training was so good!

BF 27.2.11