An X Rated Alliteration, I think?
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
The Hidden Serpent
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
You ever notice how....
You ever notice how predictive text always produces an incorrect but extremely amusing faux pas?
Life is like..
You can either put up with the bump and grind that life can be sometimes
you can throw your hands in the air and enjoy
20th June 2020 - Celia Poppinjay
It’s my duty..........
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
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
How the hell did I end up in this situation, the dead body of a stranger in my apartment, a tap on my phone, kidnapped by someone pretending to be a policeman, strung up at the top of a derelict elevator shaft in pitch darkness, who are these people?
Wash your hands, stay at home, isolate..
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