John Bradshaw

Guarlford, Worcestershire UK

JRB was once an educationalist and editor, but now writes - and publishes - just what he wants, both for himself and others.  Esoteric motorsport mainly, together with some strange short stories, but no poetry - yet.     See:  www.jrbpub.net

He also styles himself as a Performance Poet, sometimes on stage as half of ‘Bard & Boogie’ with Chris Hall on keyboards.   Acknowledging that others are better poets, he currently favours the work of the Liverpool Poets, only occasionally slipping in some of his own stuff while nobody is listening.

 

Poem written 7^th May 2020

 

I’ve Got A Bone To Pick With You...

 

I’ve Got A Bone To Pick With You, Darling...

                I see the shelves are all empty,

                And the cupboards are bare!

                We used to have plenty,

                But there’s just nothing there!

 

Who would have thought it, a few months ago?

Lock down;     Shut down;     Stay home;     Lie down.

All the gigs we’d planned, a few months ago,

Delayed;     Postponed;     Cancelled;     Abandoned.

 

So, I’ve Got A Bone To Pick With You, Dearest...

                Go look on the shelves,

                Go look in the cupbard...

                Was it all taken by elves?

                Or Old Mother Hubbard?

 

Can you remember, a few months ago,

Eating;     Feasting;     Indulging,;    Groaning.

A good leg of lamb, as I remember.

Roasting;     Carving;     Finishing;    Clearing.

 

But did we eat it all? I thought so,

But glad we didn’t throw it away!

We saved what there was for later,

That’s just what we do today.

 

Pull it out the fridge and look...

And no! We didn’t eat it all.

There is a bit left on the hock –

And it’s better than nothing at all.

 

So,

                I’ve Got A Bone To Pick With You, My Love!