Apples, apples everywhere, the tree was bending down
I had picked three baskets full, the harvest was going to town
And so I stored them one by one and kept them in the cellar
And we began baking apple pies, they became a permanent dweller
Copious was an understatement, I think they reproduced
The baskets seemed to remained so full, it was a permanent boost
And so we had stewed apples, apple sauce and apple purée
It seemed that the apples were moving in and were here to stay
And then some were turning brown and getting very soft
Now was the time to throw away, their scent began to waft
I only have one remaining bowl, but still enough to last
So every Sunday I bake a pie, it really is a blast
From September until today we are eating apples galore
You can have too much of a good thing, of that I am very sure
I hope that they will soon be gone, some are getting odious
The trouble with an apple tree is that apples get quite copious
FOWC with Fandango: Copious
I was convinced that mum found me in a basket deposited in front of the door with a crown hanging on the handle. There must have been some nobility somewhere, but mum said we were not posh, just normal. I am sure I was cheated out of my birthright, so I had to make do with visiting some noble places.
I think my son felt quite noble when he stood on the stairs in the Natural History Museum in London.
Or a visit to Westminster palace, the seat of the British government.
Or what about a trip to Waltham Abbey?
FOWC with Fandango: Noble
2 years ago almost, I could have given a lecture about plastering. I am not talking about the plaster on a wound, there was no wound. At least there was none until the builders moved in to create new walls where we were living.
They hammered, chisselled, scraped and even used fire and flames to remove the old surface of the walls and then they had to build it all up again: imagine the mess, the dust and the dirt. We collected all sorts of metal objects in our garden: screws nails and washers. When the plasterers moved in we knew that it was the end phase. In the meanwhile I had documented every step with the camera and knew all the details of renewing the house front.
The plasterers were dressed in white, probably so that the plaster made no visible marks on their clothes.
It was a messy job and we were glad for the day when they were finished. I became allergic to plaster, to plasterers and the happiest day of the year was when they departed. The job was done 20 years after the building was built. No problem, in the ext 20 years I will be 92 and who cares then.
FOWC with Fandango: Plaster
If you met my mum, you would not dare to cough
She always said the same old thing, which which would turn you off
It was not the cough that carried him off
But the coffin they carried him off in
I know this sounds so very hard, but it is a feeling that you had
You cough all night and most of the day, and this can be quite bad
So take some medicine or chew on a sweet, this really does not help
Cough some more, you cannot sleep, this really makes you yelp
Was it the guy in the bus that spread it, I really do not know
Or the lady in the store that sneezed and her nose she had to blow
It is spreading now all over the land, there is no real escape
so cough away and share it with all, really taking shape
Rub your chest with lineament oil, smelling oh so strong
This does not help, it stinks so bad, you are doing something wrong
After a week or two or three, your cough has become a croak
You have lost your voice the best of it all, Mr. Swiss is a happy bloke.
FOWC with Fandango: Cough
The mitigating circumstances were that the foot slipped from the brake to the gas pedal because they were too close together.
FOWC with Fandango: Mitigate
The most affable person I have ever met is me
I am kind and generous, it is quite plain to see
I spend the money on buying food to eat
I am feeding the family, which also gives a treat
Washing clothes and ironing is also such a pleasure
The family wear them, so I wash again with leisure
My day is spent in giving and working for us all
I am so generous and really have a ball
I am allowed to clean the windows and also make the beds
I do this for the others to rest their weary heads
And when it is my birthday I will even bake a cake
Everyone eats it, so I do it for their sake
Perhaps you find this poem is getting quite ironic
but life needs these sacrifices to keep it all harmonic
FOWC with Fandango: Affable
Daily tasks are no longer as easy as they were
Shopping is exhausting although I am no amateur
Piling goods in the trolley and sorting them at the desk
Is heavy work and annoying, like a theatre burlesque
As the years are creeping by you realise the fun has gone
You have now become a golden oldie when you were once a swan
Even leaving the bed in the morning as become a difficult task
But you battle on regardless, wearing the daily mask
Where did I put my purse and searching for the keys
Problems all around you, and cannot be solved with ease
And then you suddenly remember the days when you were young
Onerous was not the problem, you could do it all with fun
FOWC with Fandango: Onerous