Fifty-Plus News - Poets' Corner

Poets' Corner - Contributions from readers

A Sale
by Freda Taylor

Some words are just magic,
There’s one that will n’e’r fail
Maybe you’ve guessed it,
Yes, mate, its called ‘sale’.
It acts like a magnet,
Folk can’t keep away.
They say "I can’t miss this,
It may be my day."
They rush to the shop,
Join the crowd at the door
And in rush when door opens
Fall flat on the floor.
They’re up in a flash,
Strength quickly restored.
Oh, the pleasure of jostling,
At least they’re not bored.
They stop at a table
See folks grab some goods,
Think, I’ll have some of these,
But not sure if I should.
To have someone grabbing
Snatching from your hand
Makes you decide quickly,
What a bargain I’ve found.
They rush to and fro
Collecting much stock
Their arms are so full
Like a small Ayres Rock.
Do you think they have finished?
I have to smile.
Most still could beat Bannister
Running a mile
They are still rushing,
They just won’t retire.
Their poor aching feet
Must feel they’re on fire.
After a long time,
The rush has now slowed
Just look at them all,
With a large massive load.
They decide to go home
Tired and footsore.
They look like they’ve been
Through a very long war.
The teapots now busy,
And Aspros at hand.
They’ll soon be away
In that big slumber land.
We all have a weakness
And although they may say
Maybe we’re fools
But sales just make our day.

Pins ‘N’ Things An’ Cotton Reels
by Shirley L Richards

I never did like sewing
‘Twas always such a chore.
With pins an’ things an’ cotton reels
All scattered on the floor.

The cutting out was easy,
I seemed to manage that.
But putting it together
Well — I didn’t have the knack.

I’d end up with the front piece
Pinned in around the back.
The armhole was big enough
To swing an alleycat.

My zipper wouldn’t zip
An’ my hem it wasn’t straight.
The buttonholes were all too small
An’ buttons wouldn’t take.

It got me quite bewildered
For the dress was not to be.
But now I state decidedly
That sewing’s not for me!

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