Matter of Time
It's only a matter of time
Only a matter of time
As I lie in bed thinking about my life
Thinking about my children and ex. Wife
Missing company of Christine
And wake up having her arms around me - holding me
Unable to relax, switch off, fall asleep
Why should this be so when I love you so so deep
I'll tell you why, it's not through anything I have done
It's to do with everything that's important and yet to come
Only she can help, reach out, take my hand and pull me through
Expand my mind, make me become myself and explore new horizons too
I cannot sit alone wondering what I can and cannot do
I look at the universe for it is all there for us to see
As far as you want, or as close as you want it to be
And if I could name such a place, it would be named after you
After all it's something special if for no one else it'll be for me
If not, then maybe I should set myself free.
poem by JeanJacques Evendon
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Skiing
Why is it I can't ski?
When all that my instructor keeps saying is ‘benz za knees'
I ‘benz za knees' I hold my poles
Hoping this will help me go faster and not slow
Now the only thing that worries me that I know
Are my skis do not go where I want them to go
My knees are bent, I'm in the groove
I try to turn but the skis don't move
As I hold my breath I imagine what happens next
Either I go round this bend or crash and break my neck
Somehow I make it with just a snow flake to spare
Now I can breathe again - the fresh mountain air
But no sooner had I drawn my breath and unclenched my teeth
I notice my skis are far too wide underneath
With my eyes bouncing up and down like demented fleas
I try to focus but my mind feels as though it has turned to cheese
It's not looking good I must say
Compared to this morning I thought it'll turn out to be a perfect day
Not so - and here it must end
Did I make it or go straight and miss the bend?
poem by JeanJacques Evendon
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Mission
I'm a man on a mission - if you please
Dressed up like James Bond - boots on skis
Going hell for leather - rocket to the moon
Everything's a blur - I'll be there soon
She rang this morning - I must have been asleep
Dropped the phone - now it's broken in a heap
Does she turn me on - yes she does
Does she turn me on - yes she does
Wheels lifting off the ground - feel the air
Looking for my heading - not sure where
Climb above the clouds - taking a long time
Got to keep going - things looking fine
Blue in front of me - can see the sun
Letting it roll and dive - having lots of fun
Does it turn me on - yes it does
Does it turn me on - yes it does
Above this place is heaven - I could stay
Now I must leave - disappear in the grey
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poem by JeanJacques Evendon
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Greengage Jam
I'm a jar of Greengage Jam
And I'm upset because of a remark made by a man
JJ is his name, he's tall, good looking and funny
Because one day he said ‘I love the taste of sweet honey'
Well that for me is not what I expected to hear
Not when only this morning he called me ‘dear'
We would always meet for breakfast at around 8
And before he picks me up and spreads me on his plate
He'd carefully pop my top off and look inside and say ‘wow you do look yummy'
And take a mouthful with a spoon that quickly disappears in his tummy
With a smile he'd then put me on his shoulder so he could hear
These loving words - ‘thank you my dear'
But this time, before he could put me down to finish his tea
I shouted loudly - 'Marry Me, Marry Me'
To which he promptly and calmly replied - ‘let's talk about it later'
And quickly put me back in the refrigerator
Now I'm just another pot of jam left in the dark and cold
Somewhere deep at the back alongside an out-of-date cheese with lots of mould.
poem by JeanJacques Evendon
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Beware Of The Pie Cooker
There's never a dull moment as far as I can see
About a lady who's a librarian in Shrewsbury
Come what may she's a darling of the town
Always seen driving her Eos with the hood down
Hard as nails and an ass to match
She'll make someone a perfect- dare I say - catch
So anything you need to know is inside her head
Reading books to keep her brain well fed
But this Joan d'arc of the literary world
Has a secret that has yet to unfold
Given a chance she likes nothing more than to cook
Exciting things that turns heads and not pages of a book
So here's an example and you'll understand why
This lady loves making all sorts of pies
Be it vegetarian, pork or something special like Creole,
The main ingredient will always be soul
Whether it be human, dog or cat,
Who cares, she's enjoys herself and that's that
And whilst poor old Goober lies there waiting for fate
She's busy deciding what would be nice to put on a plate
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poem by JeanJacques Evendon
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Catching Snowflakes in the sun
It's amazing what people do
When snowflakes fall on top of you
Some run and hide from the falling snow
Whilst others make balls to throw
Life is weird that way
Catching snowflakes in the sun.
As they drift slowly down and fall around you
Look up and open your palms and let land a few
And try to catch their silence and serenity in your hand
Before they quickly melt and disappear
Leaving drops like those from an emotional tear
Catching snowflakes in the sun.
Open your mouth wide and let them land on your tongue
And try to taste the essence from where they have come
For if heaven really exists and is the place to be
Then you could be there in a dream alone floating free
Magic aerial crystals dancing through the air
Catching snowflakes in the sun.
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poem by JeanJacques Evendon
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Valentino
Valentino Valentino Valentino
I hope you like the sound of that. Valentino - that's my name
I'm the cutest duck to roam this side of Bockmer Lane
They say I've got the most handsome face, the prettiest of feet
A waddle to die for and a body that's hard to beat
I don't like motorcycles, planes or boats
Can't cook, sweep, read or tell funny jokes
Wash dishes - but why would any duck want to do that?
And if someone wants to know why, I just say ‘QUACK'
You'll never see me wear ‘Bling'
All of these are definitely not my thing
I'm an Indian runner - of that I am proud
And when I get excited my quacks can be quite loud
I'm King of the pond, a true gentleman of tall stature
I wobble around quacking on things that do not matter -
Except today - St Valentine's day
For the person who brought me here to you may have many faults
- not least his attempts at telling awfully funny jokes
He will always try and make you smile, laugh, feel comfortable, safe and secure
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poem by JeanJacques Evendon
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The Sock
It was early one morning
When I heard something horrible close by snoring
There, on the floor by my bed I could see
A long dark strange shape, mouth open staring at me
I had to hold my nose the smell was so foul
And as I wondered what it was, it gave a growl
So quickly I grabbed a pillow and threw it hard
Only to miss it by more than a yard
This thing was fast that's for sure
Like lightning it moved to hide behind the door
To my surprise I soon discovered
That this thing was an animal like no other
I was indeed put in a state of shock
When I identified this terrifying animal as my sock
A sock that I had worn for many weeks
And had lost but not washed and badly reeked
How I was going to catch this rodent sock I had no idea
So sat in bed thinking until it disappeared
When there was no sign of the sock to be seen
I decided quickly to prepare the washing machine
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poem by JeanJacques Evendon
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The bike must go - a song
Got to keep the engine running - My soul's on fire
Like to see my baby - my one desire
Can't help this feeling it's hard to explain
It hurts my heart it gives me pain
She says
The bike must go
No no no no no
The bike must go
Riding through the city streets, with my leathers on
Looking cool in black as the day is long
I can't quite understand it but my baby's wrong
Plugged into her Ipod and listening to her song
She says
The bike must go
No no no no no
The bike must go.
She's driving me crazy with her stance
And I'm sure she's taking me for a dance
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poem by JeanJacques Evendon
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Cotswolds
The road stretches far in front of me
Lined by Cotswold stone walls and old oak trees
Light flickering through branches like peppered stars
Reflecting slowly across the bonnet of my car
I see a pigeon flying alongside trying to keep pace
And feel the early morning sun kiss my face
What better way to make you smile
Driving through the Cotswolds mile after mile
If everything in life could be as good as this
The world would be happy and full of bliss
A sign I see says it's not far to go
20 minutes at the most if I go with the flow
The road damp after heavens opened up in a stream
Leaving a rainbow coloured sky as if made in a dream
It would be nice to stop and ponder for a while
Driving through the Cotswolds mile after mile
The end of my road is as far as I want it to be
Wherever this is, the choice is mine you see
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poem by JeanJacques Evendon
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