Willow's Song

 This is set in the Buffyverse to the tune of Giles' song in Once More With Feeling

I wasn't ready to let you go

Tried to keep you but now I know

The gift you gave me it's time to let it grow

And I...

I felt so empty all I had was need

I broke you open so I could feed

And then I turned from you

I wouldn't see you bleed

And I...

I wish I had done the right thing

When you tried to make me see

Wish I had earned your love back

Before you came to me

Wish I could say I loved you all the way

The way that you loved me

Goodnight sweet princess now I must try

To let you go - to let you fly

To be my guiding light not just my alibi

And I...

I hope I can find the right words to honour you at last

Hope I can seek forgiveness with every spell I cast

Now I can see

My angel now I see

It's time to set you free

It's time to set you free

Teeming and Lading

 Teeming and Lading sounds so banal that no one can even remember it

But the effects of the fraud are quite final - it'll take your organisation and dismember it

It's usually not a deliberate fraud - looks innocent like most lobster cages

Life is hard and - 'Hey, I'm a genius I am! We'll pay this tax bill from next month's wages!'

If it becomes habitual,

Here's what you will find

However much you may try to catch up, 

You'll fall further and further behind

 

There are three ways to try Teeming and Lading

You can do it with stock, time or money

If it's stock or money it's simple -

You get caught, you're off to Barlinnie

Here's what you should know

Whichever one you choose

There's no way you can win now

You've decided to lose

 

Our gap was some years and counting

Which made me lose sleep at nights

And it got me and my manager

Into some hideous, horrible fights

 

He said it was business as usual

He called it a manageable load

It wasn't him looking through seven lever arch files

For one retrieval request for one client code

 

You can't slowly phase out Teeming and Lading - 

Show it the door, hand it its coat

But if you leave the door open by even a crack

It's back, with its tongue down your throat

My husband said 'Tupping and Ladling'

And at the risk of you thinking me crude

If that was its name, that would neatly explain

Why I'm feeling quite so misconstrued.

Amrit

 There's something I'd like to get off my chest

For 26 years I've been feeling oppressed

 "There's just no demand for that size dear

"(though you're the third one who's asked today)

"Go up a strap size - come down a cup size

"That's really all I can say."

 26 years I've been hearing that

Thinking "Something here's not right:

"I want to give them my money -

"They want to give me a fight!"

 So I'm walking down Bearwood High Street

On a Tuesday (that's important) on the way to the shops

When something catches the corner of my eye

So I stop.

It's a newspaper article about Amrit, the award-winning bra doctor

Seeing hundreds of women in ill-fitting bras really shocked her

Her mission and vision are simple -

You want to but the right size? You can -

You want double A? She's your lady;

You want triple J? She's your man

As it were.

I've read it three times now: I'm loitering

I'm feeling a bit of a twit.

I march up to the counter and say

"Yes - I'd like a fit!"

As it were.

She said, "You just wait right there, dear"

Well, the queue was out the door.

But I wasn't going anywhere

Some things are worth waiting for.

Straight away I felt in safe hands -

That Goldilocks moment - just right

Daddy Bear's in for some fun tonight!

So now I am a walking advertisement, me -

And if you're curious, 32 double D

If you're feeling a little down-hearted

If your self esteem's in bits

If you know you could use a bit of a lift

I've one thing to tell you and it's

Put your cheque book in your pocket

Take yourself off to Amrit's

If you're longing to feel liberated

burn your bra

And then buy one that fits!

When I am Old

 When I am old, I will puke purple

19 rum and blacks and Bob's your drunken uncle

I will have surgery on my tongue to subdue the bickering young

With its forked flickering

My children will divorce me, sue their mother

For custody of each other

And I will stand on street corners

Saying: you should stay away from convents

You would never make a monk

Just, if you're drunk do not get pregnant

If you're pregnant don't get drunk

Then I will go and be a cockleshell hero, noble

In some new Dunkirk or Chernobyl

Violet Szabo in wrinkles she earned but never wore

When I am old, let me puke purple

One's Way

 And now the end is near and One must face One's last red carpet

Subjects One will make it clear then One will pause for tea and crumpets

To think One did all that and may One say not in a fun way

Oh no, oh no not One - One did it One's way

Regrets, One has a few and what they are One need not mention

Flick through any tabloid - discard the half that's pure invention

To think One would do such things? Well may One say and say quite plainly

Such things just weren't done in One's day

For what is One - what has One got?

A handbag - a palace - you know, One used to have a yacht

To say apt words to those who kneel

Then stand for hours in stiff court heels

To say 'is not' and never 'ain't' 

To think the world smells of fresh paint

To have Americans call One quaint

One has done it One's way

The Lord of the Rings

 The Lord of the Rings - that's fantasy, right?

And fantasy, that's just wish fulfilment

Furry wee hobbits - magic by elflight

Very nice, but really not relevant

Well, it's the truth, isn't it?

But see me, I read all that nonsense -

Tolkien, MacAvoy, Elgin

McCaffrey, McKinley, McKillip

Pearce, Hughart, LeGuin

Beagle, Shaw, Pratchett

Some things are hard to encompass

If it's not us or them, black or white

How do we talk about goodness

Or put over the thrill of the fight?

Thrill is the right word, isn't it?

I think Tolkien had a fair go

War is Hell, Hell is war

Two, three, what are we fighting for?

Turn the corner you're into Mordor 

In its full-on Oh-my-God-ness

I have read the other stuff too, you know - 

Ken Lay, Enron's the shape of the future 

Under New Labour our future is bright 

Tony Blair's going to put all to right 

Czechoslovakia's a country in Europe 

Edison invented the lightbulb 

Nikola Tesla, who he?

Louis Howard Latimer, ah!

America still is the land of the free 

And the stock market's going to enrich you and me...

So: trust Uncle Tolkien - believe Mr Pratchett 

Put your faith in the wench with the axe - 

People we really should face it:

Fantasy weathers much better than facts 

Sara Sings

 Sara sings for her supper - "um, Um, UMM!"

And dances for her dinner, moshing like a mad thing

Hands flat on the highchair, poised and keenly waiting

To pounce on passing spoonfuls of potato, pear or plum

Sara, like the crocodile, has quite the friendly grin

Chuckles in her tummy, a dimple in her chin

Our little Sara can be quite the fetching thing

So don't put the dish down or she'll 

dive

right

in

Megan Reads Rhymes

 Megan reads rhymes to her little sister 

Though for three weeks yet her little sister 

Is one big curve and a wandering foot

So, on the bus, up with my shirt, not rude 

Just direct as her old search for food 

And the horn on the bus says "Toot, toot, toot!"

All day long

She knows the need for quiet in Meeting

"Shh," she says,  "Shh!" round all the seating 

Friends young and old nod, solemn, unslighted

And then as she passes they grin, delighted

Diverse thoughts briefly united

A Mexican wave of mirth ignited 

All day long 

Megan leads - and can I follow? 

Desperately weary - feeling hollow 

Looking for strength that I can borrow 

All day long 

For my second daughter. 

A

For Rachel

Beloved child to you I'll tell 

The few things that I know right well 

That on bleak mornings still the sun will rise 

That beauty can be found through others' eyes 

I'll tell to you my dearest truth of all 

That if you wish to stand alone 

By that wish you have begun to fall 

For life is one long sweet embrace 

In which trees poets stars and stones 

All find a place 

And last of all I wish you free 

To think in different ways from me

I think you can tell I wrote this for my first child.