Dropping words upon a page
And staring into space.
Feeling like a ditty sage
A man of wit and grace.
Life and love are trifled,
As I dally with my prose,
The finer points are stifled
As my nose just grows and grows.
© Copyright Philip Barton 11th October 2018. All rights reserved.
It came upon me suddenly,
And lunged straight for my throat.
I struggled with it manfully,
But on that valiant note,
It thrust its spotted face in mine,
And truth I will relate,
It had its wicked way with me
And I met a fruit-cake fate.
© Copyright Philip Barton, 3rd March 2019. All rights reserved.
A racing croc fell so far back
His body passed him by.
His problem was a lack
Of food because of short supply.
Reluctant as he was to fail
He lunged and there he fed
On legs and feet and trunk and tail
And now he’s just ahead.
© Copyright Philip Barton 12th February 2025. All rights reserved.
I gazed into my navel
With a mystic inclination.
My eyes transfixed and piercing
As I sought illumination.
My enlightenment was focused,
Cosmic consciousness alert
And I attained the realisation
I’d lost a button from my shirt.
© Copyright Philip Barton 11th July 2018. All rights reserved.
She was gaily moronic
On her third gin and tonic
And I asked if she would like another.
Being rather refined
She politely declined.
That’s my memory
Of Christmas with Mother.
© Copyright Philip Barton, 8th September 2019. All rights reserved.
Left forged quickly to the lead,
Then Right surged from the back.
They both agreed,
The need for speed,
Upon life’s racing track.
On and on the struggle went,
Throughout the day they raced.
No airs and graces,
Swapping places,
Ever on they chased.
No quarter could be given.
Back and forth till both were spent,
Those feet were keenly driven.
Both knew what winning meant.
© Copyright Philip Barton 25th March 2026. All rights reserved.
Stripped of my masculine pride,
My dignity gone down the drain.
Respect disappeared,
It’s worse than I feared.
Can life be the same again?
My self-esteem has been shattered.
Eloquence reduced to babble.
Just an old so and so,
With my head way down low.
My wife just beat me at Scrabble.
© Copyright Philip Barton, February 19th, 2026, All rights reserved
My sister is a gasbag.
Our conversations vast.
By the time she’s finished listening,
At least an hour has passed.
© Copyright Philip Barton, May 14th, 2026, All rights reserved
They bewitch with a glance,
The barest whiff of romance,
and thus, in a trice,
You’re entranced!
© Copyright Ross Medley 11th May, 2026. All rights reserved.
