Ken Bruce

If ever you're feeling downcast
And thinking it's no use,
Tune in, you'll feel much better
When listening to Ken Bruce.

A jovial sort of chappie
And Scottish through and through;
Working for the B.B.C.
Each day on radio 2.

I used to think that Wogan
Was really very good;
But Kenneth is far better,
It must be in his blood.

He loves a sparring partner
On whom to hone his tongue;
And couldn't find a better one
Than good old Jimmy Young.

[...] Read more

poem by John Carter Brown
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Sailor and the Market Man

'I ask you to see reason'
Says the sailor who is stern;
'You know full well that from the sea
A living I must earn;
I'll bother you to shake on it,
I haven't got all day;
Come on now make your mind up,
It ain't a lot to pay! '

'My friend, your price is far too high'
The market-man declares,
'Go find another buyer now
Who'll rid you of your wares.
I know the fish you bring to sell
Are fat and fresh and sound,
But I must make a living too
By watching every pound.'

The sailor and the market-man
They argue every day,

[...] Read more

poem by John Carter Brown
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Death of a Phone

I ought to beware: my wife is back
The phone is now under transistor-attack;
It won't be a quick or an easy death
She'll kill it by sheer bombardment of breath.

All was so quiet while she was away;
The phone was relaxed... I had nothing to say;
But now the darned thing is flaming-red-hot
I think that my wife is now losing the plot.

The battery is failing, I fear for it's health
I doubt I could save it - even by stealth;
It's time the poor phone was back on it's base
Instead of contacting the whole human race.

Oh no, she's angry - it's fate is now sealed;
The battery is dead - it cannot be healed;
A look of disgust as it's thrown to one side,
A clear-cut case of... Phoneicide!

[...] Read more

poem by John Carter Brown
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Dear Shiela

Dear Shiela, it's me your kid brother,
I'm writing just letting you know
That the gang here are thinking about you,
So don't get to feeling too low.

And Shiela, we hope you get better
As soon as you possibly can,
'Cause in Poolstock awaiting attention
Is a house, a dog and a man.

Yes Shiela, your presence is needed
So badly I hardly can tell:
The dishes are up to the ceiling,
The rent's in arrears as well!

And Bob is a pining already,
He's lonely and missing you lots
And William is tearing his hair out,
Unable to cope with the tots.

[...] Read more

poem by John Carter Brown
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

After The Rain

A hush had descended, the air was quite still,
Nothing was moving beside the old mill;
Nature postponed both it's joys and it's pain,
Holding it's breath until after the rain.

Waiting for heaven to give up it's prize
Long had creation looked up to the skies,
Searching the air for the treasure contained,
Soon to be satisfied after the rain.

Pure glistening water now dropped from the sky,
Feeding the earth, once so hungry and dry;
Soaking and swelling the rivers again,
Refreshed and replete now after the rain.

The seasons had ticked with their regular rhythm,
The rainbow displayed it's most colourful prism;
The people, like flowers, had come out again,
Bathing in sunshine, after the rain.

[...] Read more

poem by John Carter Brown
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

My Photograph

Of all the worldly goods I own,
Of all that I possess,
One photograph means more to me,
Much more than all the rest.

Who took this precious photograph
I couldn't really say;
I only know the subject is
More lovely than the day.

A face so radiant, so serene,
And known and loved so well;
This photograph I hold so dear,
I'd never give or sell.

True beauty comes from deep within,
It's something you can't buy;
It's captured on my photograph,
And cameras never lie.

[...] Read more

poem by John Carter Brown
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Big Thirteen

Dear Sam, although you're still quite small,
No larger than a runner-bean,
You're sure to drive us up the wall
Now that at last you've reached thirteen.

No more for you the childish things,
The toys, and stuff you understand;
You'll wear your fancy clothes and rings,
And reach out for your boyfriend's hand.

You won't be wanting to sit in
With us, and chat about the day;
You'll fuss about your looks and skin,
And how your hair just blows away.

Just for a time you'll be the one
And only, no-one else will matter;
We'll have to think just where you've gone,
And just who's peace you're trying to shatter.

[...] Read more

poem by John Carter Brown
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Poem for V.E. Day

Victory in Europe
Fifty years ago;
To some it doesn't mean a thing,
It happened long ago.

It's just a thing they talk about,
Those old men down the street;
Todays kids cannot understand,
They never felt the heat.

They never knew the torment,
The heartache, pain and death;
They've never seen a soldier
That's fighting for his breath.

The victory in Europe
Was certainly hard won
For who lost a brother,
A father or a son;

[...] Read more

poem by John Carter Brown
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Those were the Days

Oh for the days of ginger-beer
The days I hold so very dear;
Still vivid in my memory's eye
Games of hopscotch and eye-spy.
Saving jam-jars for the school
Catching 'cockies' in the pool;
Longing for my Christmas toys,
Making lots of childish noise.

Oh for the days of spinning-tops,
Playing robbers, playing cops;
Playing chiefs and indians too,
Paper feathers, paper glue.
Bouncing on the bed upstairs
After whispering my prayers;
Still I see myself at play,
So close but yet so far away.

Oh for the days of birthday jelly,
Watching popeye on the telly;

[...] Read more

poem by John Carter Brown
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Nodding Off

I sit enveloped in my chair,
My limbs relaxed, my work is done;
The radio is droning low,
My eyes are heavy as a ton.
I know the room is occupied,
But sorting voices is a strain;
A ghostly figure passes by,
I think I'm nodding off again.

I'm wavering between two worlds,
One cold and clear, the other warm
And filled with floating images,
Devoid of bone or flesh or form.
I sense a slowly sliding movement,
Hear again that far refrain;
My head falls from it's finger perch
Because I'm nodding off again.

My body is superfluous,
And all control I had is lost;

[...] Read more

poem by John Carter Brown
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!