Wednesday, 30 May 2007

Surface Mania.

Surface Mania.

Just give me a surface I can't bear to see it bare,
I must put something on it,I can't leave it sitting there.
We bought a pretty table, great just inside the door.
Now it holds a lot of games which once lived on the floor.

The worktops in the kitchen which were once really clear
Now hold china for restoring and oil paints sitting there.
The dresser in the sitting room which houses china bright
Is now adorned with paperwork, it's not a pretty sight.

The television can't escape, it holds a pot of flowers,
I picked them from the garden as I dodged the April showers.
I'd love to clear it all up and put it out of sight,
Sad to say I can't do that our cuboard space is tight.

The answer is more storage room
To make a tidy life complete
I know! my husband takes up lots of space
I'll just get rid of PETE.

Jill West.

Wardrobe Clutter.

Wardrobe Clutter.

I must clear out my wardrobe though
That's really a beautifull dress.
But the last time I wore it I have to admit
I weighed so very much less.

I really should should go on a diet,
I've put on more than a stone,
It happens to people as years advance
So I know that I don't weep alone.

The answer seems to be exercise,
That would put me on the right track,
But my poor little legs won't go too far,
And part of my problems my back.

Pete and I thought of press ups,
I must say that Pete managed three,
I did just one and then I was done,
It was nearly the finish of me.

I'll probably put half those things back
And cross them off of my list
And hope one day soon I'll be thinner,
I'm always an optimist.

Jill West.

Friday, 25 May 2007

Sisters, Do You Remember Burcombe.

My twin sister and myself were born in a little village called Burcombe.
In Wiltshire, England. Very similar to the village in Somerset where I now live.
Sadly my sister Betty is no longer with us but her poem says so much about those
carefree times of our childhood.


Do you remember Burcombe? The willow tree shaped like an arbour,
Our big old fashioned stone floor larder.
The apple tree named Beauty of Bath,each wobbly legged new born calf.
Those little leaded window panes, the scarlet runner climbing canes.

The tree lined lane we walked to school,our jumpers all hand knitted wool.
Blackberry staines on childrens lips, old mans beard and wild rose hips.
Snowballs making fingers raw, our milk drunk through a real straw.
When it rained and froze so quickly, every twig was covered thickly.

With ice that sparkled in the sun, then slowly thawed to drip and run.
Bluebell woods in wild array, I wonder are they there today.?
Oh' the summers warm and bright, when we couldn't sleep at night.
The river cool and so inviting, such temptation fish are biting.

Mouth water tasting rhubarb tart, riding on the old hay cart.
Poor rabbits chased it made me cry but how we loved that rabbit pie.
Our playhouse was the flour mill etched in my mind it is there still.
And in my dreams I hold on tight, the wheel turns waters gushing might.

Remember cricket in the field, those homemade bats we used to wield.
"Hows that, your out, I'm not you are," our echoed shouts rang loud and far.
The tall yew tree I couldn't master, six weeks I had that arm in plaster.
It came off just in time for school, all through the hols, yes life is cruel.

So many memories I recall I wish I could record them all.
We moved away to different parts for husbands came to steal our hearts.
Each of us a different way, yet I remember still today.

Betty Barnard.

My lovley twin sister.

Thursday, 24 May 2007


I was the youngest of ten children. My oldest brother was twenty one
when my twin sister and I were born.
So this poem.

The Little Tree.

I was the smallest sapling upon the little hill,
Nine trees grew around me, only three are growing still.
Age and illness slowly claimed them and my shelter then was lost
Cold winds can reach my branches and I have to count the cost.

Our lineage is a family tree, each person is a branch,
So make the most of all of them don't leave anything to chance.
Don't loose touch with loved ones they help to ease your way,
Write to them or ring them, make this a happy day.

The seeds I've shed have taken root, they're growing up around.
They're giving me good shelter as they sprout out of the ground.
The wind is now not quite so cold upon my little hill
But I won't forget my family, some of whom are growing still.

Jill West.

Tuesday, 22 May 2007

Veggies Underdone.

Veggies Underdone.

Who was it who began the fashion for veggies underdone,
You try to spear a Brussel sprout it really is no fun.
It shoots away across the table trailing gravy drips behind,
Then slides across the resturant floor perhaps with escape in mind.

The carrots are like orange sticks you chase them all around,
Just like the sprouts, with nasty tricks they just go underground.
If I try to eat them just to be polite,I really can't digest them
So I'm awake all night.

So please all you chefs out there may I make a suggestion,
Give them a few more minutes and save my poor digestion.

Jill West.

Village Idiot (Please apply)

Please Apply

We've got no village idiot I think it's such a shame,
If you want to apply put forward your name.
You don't have to be clever not very smart,
Just a warm personality with a very big heart.

I'll take your application, come directly to me,
Have some money ready 'cause of course it isn't free.
When I call on you for cash don't give a pause,
Just hand over all your money it's in a very good cause.

I'm planning to build a luxury home
For poor past it poets who've run out of poem.
You'll be Saint Wotsit and get all the praise
And I will live grandly for the rest of my days.

P.S. I want to be where the gnomes and donosaurs
all roam free. (I know the pub's shut but please can
I have another gin and tonic.)

Jill West.

Friday, 11 May 2007

Cherie update.

I wrote this poem about a year ago when the
cost of flying was very much in the news. Things are
changing now and below the poem CHERIE is the follow

Cherie was a nifty witch and Tony was impressed,
Her broomstick came from Hogwarts she'd pinched it she confessed.
She said "Tony it's a cheap way to get from place to place
and it's really rather thrilling when the wind is in your face."
Her name was Cherie and she rode the fastest broomstick in the West.

She said "everyone's complaining about the costly jet,
The ozone layer is vanishing and Gordons quite upset.
We have to do something about our travel costs,
If we don't you know what! the next elections lost."
Her name was Cherie and she rode the fastest broomstick in the West.

Now Cherie couldn't get Tone a magic broomstick so!
She went to a local store to get one she could tow.
But when she told Tony what she had in mind
He nearly went ballistic he thought her so unkind.
Her name was Cherie and she rode the fastest broomstick in the West.

Tony was so angry he said" I don't want to cause a rift
But I think I'll go to Two Jags he'll give me a lift.
I don't think I'm ready yet, I don't want to learn to fly,
I don't want to join Wilson at that party in the sky.
Not even for you Cherie on your fastest broomstick in the West.

Jill West.

Retirement and getting ready for the American tour.

Tony said "all my packing's finished I've got all that I need,
Socks and suits and shirts and such and something good to read.
I hope you've kept your load light Cherie for I must confess,
When we get to the airport I don't want to pay excess."

Cherie said to Tony "my broomstick I must take"
And those were the words that made poor Tony quake.
She said "It's a handy form of transport, I'm 0n it in a flash,
You have to admit that I've never had a crash"

While looking at the places they shortly soon would be
he said"I would let you take it if it was up to me.
But SALEM is our first stop and to be quite fair,
If you fly in on your broomstick there'll be a riot there.

Jill West.

Tuesday, 1 May 2007

Things Are Never As They Seem.

As I seem to have some U.S. visitors what you
call a trunk on a car is to us a car boot.
We have car boot sales in fields etc selling
unwanted goods (some fabulous some awful)
But there is something for everyone. So,

Things Are Never As They Seem.

She got up bright and early a good start to the day.
The sun was shining brightly as she went her merry way.
To a farmers market a hunky one to find, to do odd jobs
about the house but good looks were on her mind.

All the stalls she looked at had only ladies there,
They were rather rude to her when she made her
meaning clear.
"This is a farmers market but they seem rather rare"
Not one nice farmer to be had, it didn't seem quite fair.

Her car though old still goes quite well, it gets from A to B,
It's just a little short on space, she buys all sorts of things
you see.
So after her dissapointment, she didn't get a farmer,
"I only wanted one she said just a jolly handsome charmer"

She saw a sign along the road it proclaimed a CAR BOOT SALE
So that would be O.K. for her, this time she couldn't fail.
If she could buy a large new boot and attach it to her car,
It would carry all her goods and be the best by far.

In the gate and through the field, she had to pay a pound,
But alas you've guessed it not a car boot could be found,
So it seems the way things are she'll never get her dreams,
As I told you to begin with thigs are never as they seem.

Jill West.