Richard Happer

AN UNEXPECTED PLEASURE

An ode by Tom Fitch

At work today I went for a pee

But only a cubicle was free

So I sat down, without a thought

And was surprised, and not for nought

For suddenly, a poo came out

It was a beauty, there is no doubt

I enjoyed it a moment, at my leisure

Then sped it hence, flushed with pleasure.

And as I hoist my trousers high

I stopped a mo and wondered why

A big and unexpected poo

Should remind me so much of you

Perhaps, because, it made me feel at ease

It was direct; it did not tease

It touched my life, calmed me down

Like you last night, it was dressed in brown.

But then I knew I’d been a fool

I could not compare you to a stool

My eye that your perfect beauty saw

Glimpsed too the blessed jobby’s flaw

There was something about it you’ve never had

The fact of which I’m rather glad

For precious though I found this gift

I have to say, my love, it whiffed.

on your face, a girly beard
up your arse, bobbly and weird
wherever it grows
nobody knows
the point.
yes, we all find it tough
to love bum-fluff

At times like this

At times like this
You may hear me say
Thank God my father
Wasn’t gay.

Friday moves snail-like
Crawling slowly in my brain –
Malt and Hops I think.

Please send me your Friday haikus, maybe we can make this a regular feature.

Oh lovely mermaid…

Oh lovely mermaid with the golden hair
Approach her sailors, if you dare
I tell you now you should take care
for she has crabs in her underwear.

THE MEASURE OF A MAN

How to judge, assess or gauge what a man is worth?
The height of him, the breadth of him, the depth, the length, the girth?
Do you count up all his money, his stocks and shares, his land?
Perhaps the carats in the ring upon his lady’s hand?

To which degree does this man rise? A third, 2:2, a first?
Mere numbers cannot separate the best man from the worst.
The richest man knows nothing, but knows he is a fool,
He knows that life’s best lessons are never taught in school.

So judge me not on what I know, but on what I want to learn
And on the love I give you, with no measure of return.

A DOG WHO’S LOST
dedicated to… by Tom Fitch

Like rhubarb without custard
Or ham what’s got no mustard
Like a skylark without wings
And a playpark with no swings

A door without a latch
Socks that do not match
Fingers without thumbs
Or sticks what’s lost their drums

Like Bond with no Martini
Or a king without his queenie
Like Tom apart from Jerry
A Christmas that’s not merry

A singer with no song
A ding without a dong
Lemon minus lime
A poem with no rhyme

Ying away from yang
A whiz without a bang
Skiing without snow
A Frenchman sans chapeau

Like a jigsaw short a piece
Athens without Greece
A sculptor shy a chisel
Scotland wi’ nae drizzle

The wind that blows no willow
The bed that has no pillow
Like a house without a roof
A dog who’s lost his woof…

What I mean, my darling bride
Is, without you by my side
Like all these things and more
I’d be less
Than what I was before.