William’s whatchemacallit wavered in the wind. Willhamena wondered what was wrong with it. William put willy away and he walked Willhamena to Westward Way as winter was where the season was at, and waving one’s willy was wasteful of one’s time in this weather.

The waterfall was worthwhile seeing on the way back to Willhamena’s. However, William’s waterworks were not watertight as he was wanting to water the wildflowers urgently, his bladder as wide as a watermelon.

When William had waggled it, his wristwatch was wet so he wiped it on his wankerchief a word known only to men!

Witchcraft was at hand as William walked into a wheelbarrow left by the woodcutter making wickerwork by the wayside.

Work people, Willy whined get right up my waterspout. Willhamena’s eyes wondered down to his willy which had left its wet mark on his Y fronts so left her wondering.

William dropped off Willhamena and walked back to Warrington West, stripped down to his vest and slept.

Celia Poppinjay 28/5/2021

Here I hide

My whole being is a disguise

Tubers are where I commence

Flowers false and blue

I sit here

My body green from tip to toe

Twisted in my stipule

Not a straight stem can be seen

Blue spots match my eyes

I sit here still and silent

Waiting to pounce

Upon my prey

Venom drips from my mouth

I sit here waiting

For my victim

To be near

Celia Poppinjay - 7/8/2020

Sex!

You can either put up with the bump and grind that life can be sometimes

or

you can throw your hands in the air and enjoy

the ride!

20th June 2020 - Celia Poppinjay

My bedroom is warm and cosy

It should be safe, a place of sanctuary

Behind that closed door

Blankets pulled tight around my neck

I’m not safe, I’m unsafe

Because this is the time

It shouldn’t be like that

It’s our secret he once whispered in my ear

Eyes tight shut blocking out the vision

His breath tinged with the devil

His devil is whiskey, by the glass, on the double

The creak of the stair tells me it’s time

I know its time

Time to do my duty

Eyes clenched, I cannot see

But I can see in my mind’s eye

I can feel everything

Hear every grunt and moan

Until his hand rests on mine

It’s over

The bedroom door clicks shut.

Father’s day is over

That is, today is over

Another day soon, to do my duty!

Celia Poppinjay 19th June 2020

Locked up, imprisoned, under house arrest, quarantined, whatever you want to call it, it’s all the same to me. Loss of liberty is more like it!

Who do they mean, what do they mean? Stay at home, don’t go out, look at them all, running to the shop, no mask, no gloves, emptying the shelves of dried foods to hide away in their little nests, it’s a me me society!

Who cares about another human being, I see people fighting over toilet paper on the TV, getting their fifteen minutes of fame on our TV screens, the anger clear and in full HD! No one cares!

They are all liars those MP’s that talk cheap to us all, who do they think they are kidding with their sound bites and private nannies looking after their kids and housekeepers running to the shops fighting just so that you, our MP’s can wipe your arses in comfort and eat your fancy food.

Clap for the nurses; clap because they have no protection despite the MP’s telling us every day how much they admire and respect them. Into battle they go, over the top, let’s go, no rifle, no PPE, no aprons, not a round of ammunition in the breach! But we clap them and they continue the fight!

Clap for the refuse collectors who take your rubbish away so we are not infested with rats! The shit jobs! Neglected by those in power for years, voted against having a pay rise, but we need them now our heroes.

Locked up, imprisoned, under house arrest, quarantined, whatever you want to call it, it’s all the same to me because I am vulnerable and I’m in the category its official! I am confined to quarters, me, this old lady with no one to get my toilet paper..................

©Celia Poppinjay – 28th May 2020