Road Tax

My Pond

Here's a verse from the past,
from a farmer to his local tax office. After losing his tax disc

Farmer;
Glenluce
Southwest Scotland





I dinna say am faultless,when exercising care,
On looking' at the screen ae day, the licence wisna there,
I needna mak' excuses,as tae how that cam tae pass,
so sen' me oot anither ane, an be a nice wee lass.

Reply from the Council.

Every morning, every night,
Check your screen and
keep things right.
If perchance your  "disc"
is slipping,
try a glue a bit more gripping.

Local Tax Officers compliments;

Thank you for the  first laugh of the day.
( didn't they do well?)

The above is one of hundreds! no thousands! of verses, poems, rhymes, that are one off classics from our past, laying in wait to be seen and can be! in the archives of our government offices, old libraries are also a good place for them to wait, hidden in books by their writers.
You will be introduced to a more compassionate time.

Oh how I wish... I could be, talented just like the rest of thee.

Agman.

The Cleaning Lady

Looking out my back window.

Scotland.

This is one of those verses that demonstrates the good natured banter that goes on between, the Bowling club and the cleaning lady.
The cleaning lady very graciously gave me this, What a star!

The cleaning Lady:
left this note before going on holiday.

I've washed down all your windows,
I've tidied up you mess.
When I come back I hope to see the place as clean,
or else !

I won't be washing up you cups or ringing out your bell,
instead I'll be putting my feet up and say "you can go to hell!"

So see you in a fortnight, enjoy the peace and quite and mark my words if there's a mess I'll cause a bloody riot!

 The Reply from the Bullin club:

Oh the clubs wee cleaner's awa
Irene she's ever sae braw,
with a duster and brush
she's a cleaner wi  pu'sh
Irene the toast o them a'.

Oh the clubs wee cleaner's awa
Irene, she's resting her jaw,
In her wee bathing suit
She's Just sitting aboot
wi' naethin' tae dae at a'.

There's puddocks loupin' in the sinks,
There's tea bags laying In the rinks,
Prentice Says the whole place stinks
Since Irene shot the crow.

The clock has stopped
The drains are chocked,
Tam Cummins says his been "nocked"
The club has gone to pot.

It's the roughest place you ever saw
whit they folk dae's against the law,
There's a crowd don't hiv' a maw or
paw,
And the cleaner's on the loose.

The flag's been hung half up the mast
folk haud their nose as they walk past,
A disaster area It's been classed
And the clappers oot the bell.

The Thursday mornin' crowd are bleetin
I've even seen, some stan'-in greetin
Their tea just doesna' seem to sweetin
Since Irene cut the stick.

What's to be done, no one can tell,
it seems the place is bound for hell.
She might come back if you ring her bell.

The Bullin Club

I had to copy this off of a couple of sheets of  old paper I struggled with the Scotty Bits,
But I think it was worth it , hope you enjoy it as much as I did.


Agaman.

She's invited Me ( the Queen of the Faerie)

Alice this message is just for you.

But first Princess do this for me?

Write me Poem  and fill it with Rhyme and I will love you till the end of time and if you make it special for me  I will keep it for eternity.



Oh how I wish you could see, The Blue bell fairy is coming to tea!.
A little message; She sent to me saying "she will be here with her friends at three".

It really is a thrill for me to have the faerie come to tea,
she's going to bring along her whole family,
I wonder what her plan will be?

I'd better run and wash you see, as I'm just a wee bit dirty,
I must be clean as can be,
For they are  the Faerie.

I'll put on clean clothes and go and see,
What I have inside my wee pantry,
I have honey and jams and fruits and I'll make some fairy cakes,
Something the fairy taught to me,
I have nettles in my garden just to make the tea,
another wee thing,  taught to me.
My fairy cakes will be a success, you'll see!

Oh dear?
my nerves are getting the better of me,
I really must run away and Pee!......sorry.

As the time draws near I heat the teapot,
Putting in nettles  and pouring water scalding hot, 

I did this at five to three, so it will infuse in time for tea,
another thing,
They taught to me.

I put my cakes upon the tray with fresh cream,
honey and jams and a few other wee treats,
just so they will remember me,
and the day they came to tea.

I went outside with my tray and sat upon my garden seat, 

it seemed a mystery to me,
but the flowers are blooming in their fairy tree,

It must be getting close to three,
for the purple/blue blossoms are falling from the tree and making a round mat upon the ground, underneath the tree?
surely for the Queen of the  Faerie.
  

My chickens and cows and birds have all come to see,
The fairies in the trees.
How could  they know? how could they see?
It is a mystery to me.

As I sat in my seat I started to drift off to sleep,
just as I was about to drop off,
A fairy sprinkled me with dust and I awoke in that other place,
A tingling feeling on my face,
I looked up and saw I was within their realm once more,
in that fairy land, where love and happiness does abound.

Hundreds of fairies were flying about, screaming giggling and giving a shout,
Even the humble bumble bee was flying about, giving honey to the wee faerie,
I turned to get my tray but the fairies had moved it away, over to the tree, and they were all giggling and laughing enjoying my tea.

It was just as happy day for me, sitting with the wee faerie.

The bluebell Faerie Queen waved to me and asked me to join her company,
she had some fairies for me to meet,
This was just another treat ,
For I was to meet, all the Manx fairies.
Isn't that neat?
The Queens they all stood to greeted me,
as I took each Queen by the hand,
ripples of pleasure past through me,
as they welcomed me to their land,
there was the:
Manx Cushag fairy, the Manx Marsh Orchid fairy,and the Manx Gorse Fairy, then I met the  Manx  Elder Flower Fairy,
Standing at her side the Manx Fuchsia Fairy smiled,
and last but not least, in anyway,
Was the Manx Bluebell Fairy, sister to the bluebell Queen.

Swarms of butterfly's were flying were around and some where landing on the ground,
The tooth Fairy I happened to see, scooping honey from the pot,
I thought she had rather a lot,
As she licked her fingers from the pot,

Also I saw the dew Fairy and she was still in a tizzy,
So very very busy, she said to me as she flew by,
"she must go and spread the dew,
Happiness and blessing I send to you".

I can't think of any place I rather be,
Just you and me with the fairies in the trees.

The Fairy Queen said "they must away and thanked me for a lovely day,"
They all turned and smiled at me,
Making me feel so happy,
Then I dropped off to sleep and awakened again on my seat.

All the flowers on the ground had returned back to their tree,
which is the magic of the Faerie.

So Alice this is what happened to me the day the Fairies came to tea.
When the Fairies come to stay we can sit and talk all day.

Granddad loves you.

Agman

See Me

Scotland

Geriatric Ward.
I apologise I have no name or date.
This poem was found in the possessions of an elderly lady who died in the Geriatric ward.

It is so moving "I would like to call it, the poetry of her life"

But It is called. 

See Me.

What do you see? nurse's, what do you see, what are you thinking when you look at me?  a crabby old women not very wise, uncertain of habit, with far away eyes.
Who dribbles her food and makes no reply, when you say in a loud voice: "I do wish you'd try"

Who seems not to notice the things that you do,and forever is losing a  stocking or too.
who unresisting or not, lets you do as you will with bathing and feeding, the long day to fill.
Is that what your thinking? is that what you see?
Then open your eye's nurse your looking at Me.
I'll tell you who I am, as I sit here so still; as I rise at your bidding,as I eat at your will.

I'm a small child of ten with a Father and Mother, brothers and sisters, who love one another.
A young girl of sixteen with wings on her feet, dreaming that soon now a lover to meet,

A bride soon at twenty- my heart gives a leap remembering the vow's I promised to keep.

At twenty five now, I have young of my own, who need me to build a secure and happy home.

A women of thirty, my young now grow fast.

At forty, my young son's have grown and are gone, But my
man's beside me to see I don't mourn.

At fifty, once more babies play round my knee again, we know children my loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead!
I look at the future I shudder with dread for my young are rearing young of their own and I think of the years and the love  I've known.
I'm an old women now and nature is cruel, it's her jest to make old age to look like a fool.

The body is crumbled, grace and vigour departed, there is now a stone where once I had a heart,
But inside this old carcass a young girl still dwells and now and again my battered heart swells.

I remember the joy,I remember the pain and I'm loving and living life over again,
I think of the years all too few-gone so fast, and accept the stark fact that nothing can last.

So open your eyes nurses and see, not a crabby old women! look closer nurses.  See Me?............

Agman
"When I wrote Sweet Old Lady down the street"  this is exactly what I was trying to create and by these standards I failed.
this lady is an unknown giant in the Poetry world, this is just so beautiful , I hope you liked it.

Agman

I don't know your name! I don't know your face, but I'm sure when you reach those pearly gates  you will float through like an angel full of grace.....

Death Wish....

Out my back window.

Scotland.

A Death wish....
This note was left by a frustrated housewife on her Hoover in the middle of the lounge, for her husband to find.




I would if I could- but I can't!
I just ground to a stop,dying on the spot.
Your wife thinks it's my fuse,
but that don't mean a lot,

So if you take a minute to look,
inside my little bott.
I'm probably stuffed with balls of fluff
and my wheels are bound tight with string,
making movement an impossible thing.

You'll possible find it's my works.
I've taken all I can,
I'm ready to go to the skip on Tuesday,
In cash's van,

I was given this verse by the writer who saved it,  written over 25 years ago, Cash was her brother, didn't she do well.

Agman.

unwelcome comment

On the 08/05/2013.
I received a comment into my spam box,
On my blog
"Can you be born bad"
now as you know I love receiving comments and didn't realise the computer would dump them into the spam box, which turned out to be a good thing.

Now I firmly believe that a person has the right to freedom of speech, but this persons rhetoric is not some thing I can support in any way.

I believe our way of life is improving and getting better, even if it is slow and what you ( my commentator) consider in our behaviour in the future to be  normal and accepted! is just sick.

A Retro step into oblivion. It will never happen.

There are just so many good minded people on this planet who are changing it for the better, every day a piece at a time, we are evolving moving towards a higher plane of existence,
and I'm not sorry to say, there is no place in the future for your grossly wicked mind.
I also believe time will change these small genetic mistakes in you.

But unfortunately for you, our boffins will come up with a cure, gene therapy! rumour has it they are already using it on volunteers in prisons world wide.

I don't support this for I'm fearful of where it might lead. But please go away in the knowledge that I will vote against it,

if it ever comes to a vote?

Agman