The Saga Of The Salmon

There was only one salmon

Left in the shop

On Christmas Eve

When to Grimsby I got

I wanted a side

But this one was whole

That said we were three

So around it could go

The price was a bargain

Only twenty quid

So we decided to grab it

Before someone else did

I kindly asked the fishmonger

To work his magic

To gut it and section it

But his craftsmanship was tragic

He cleaned out its insides

Then left it at that

Slid it’s poor carcass

Into a plaggy bag

That wasn’t even sealed

And it was sliding around

When I clocked it I was livid

And gave him a dressing down

“What have you done?!

What an abortion!

Is that your idea

Of filleted, salmon portions?

It’s as long as I’m tall

In one massive piece

I’d envisioned beautiful steaks

And two sides at least

But that cock up looks like

You’ve both had a fight

And that the poor salmon

Came back to life

And fought until the end

Whilst you brandished your blade

Which must have been serrated

Judging by the mess you’ve made!

It’s got jagged edges

All torn to shreds

And by the look of those fins

You haven’t removed it’s legs

The width isn’t even

It’s triangle shaped

And it’s a metre in length

You’ve clearly made a mistake!”

Turns out he was

A Christmas temp

Not a trained fishmonger

And wanted his break

So he rushed and fled

Leaving a mess

So I had to call his manager

And flaming protest

Who was horrified

When he saw the state

Of the poor salmon

Unfit for a plate

He ordered the temp

To finish the job

And I had to direct

The silly sod

Like I know how to prep

A whopping great fish?!

But back in Crouch End

There’d have been none of this

They’re all fully qualified

To do the job

Take pride in their work

Though it costs a few bob

But the end result

Is a thing of beauty

All precise and portioned

And packaged and pretty

Not all mangled up

In a slimy bag

That it takes two people to haul

And yank and drag

But we got there in the end

By the skin of our teeth

And the unfortunate salmon

Looked more palatable at least

And they gave us a discount

Which can’t be bad

So I summoned some Christmas spirit

And forgave the poor lad

Then headed home

To see my folks

Brandishing said salmon

The poor butt of the joke

But we gave it a fitting

Send off in the end

Baked it with lemon

Til it was fit for a king

So all was not lost

And it gave us a giggle

Breaking the ice

And filling our middles

It literally was

The catch of the day

And it tasted delicious

I’m happy to say.

Advent In Avalon

Winter Solstice

The rebirth of the sun

A time for reflection

Where the red water runs

At the foot of the Tor

A holy place

Sacred and serene

Away from the rat race

If they beckon

You must answer the call

To the well

A source of life force

Replenish your energy

Cleanse and purify

Banish your demons

Held by the light

God is love

And love resides there

Drink from the chalice

And your soul repair

Whatever trials or troubles you

Know that it’s a test

Find forgiveness there

Find redemption and rest

Fortify yourself

And receive His benevolent grace

Traverse the healing waters

Barefoot, humble, embraced

Emerge from your chrysalis

In preparation for the next cycle

Redeemed and purified

Protected by St Michael

The dawn of a new decade

Is only days away

The anniversary of the birth

Of Christ we shall celebrate

A time to clean the slate

Begin a brand new chapter

Intention setting to manifest

A future filled with rapture

Know thyself

And cut thy losses

Severe ties

Yet cultivate riches

Nurture positive influences

Follow your inner bliss

Give thanks for all that radiates

Beauty and happiness

Know that you are blessed

Deserving and worthy

Recognise your divinity

Even though you’re presently earthly

Follow Bethlehem’s star

To illuminate your path

When weakened pray for Him

To support you with His staff

And then rise again

Like a phoenix from the ashes

Of the purging furnace

That illusion shatters and smashes.

Rabid and Racist

You never really know someone

What goes on in their minds

Until the apple cart is overturned

And they let rip with words unkind

Until they feel slighted

Which in fact they got so wrong

And they accuse you of despicable deeds

That their paranoid mind has spun

And so it transpires you’re a ‘liar’

Then evidence they demand

Apparently you’re on trial

They’re the judge and jury, they command

You to produce something

That actually doesn’t exist

You tell them so

But they won’t let it go

And so they persist and persist

And then they start

To hurl RACIAL abuse

At your ‘Englishness’

And the cannon comes loose

It hits the deck

Explodes in a fury

The red mist arises

You attack in a frenzy

Unleashing a verbal

Firing squad

On the defence

Against a slanderous sod

So far removed

From reality

Utterly deranged

And too blind to see

You actually told the truth

And never did lie

They just chose not to believe

Although you did try

So another ‘friendship’

Bites the dust

To come such a cropper

It clearly wasn’t robust

But to be racially slurred

Your character assassinated

Shows such a low opinion

Of you – you’re exasperated

And such a contempt for the natives

Of the country they occupy

When they blatantly state

They’d rather not integrate

With the ‘English’ they clearly despise

So beware who you trust

For a viper can lurk

Neath the costume of an ally

Ready to bite you and go berserk

Their true colours surfacing

And the venom they’ve concealed

Rising to the surface

With a turn of the wheel.

Labour Of Love

‘Twas the day of the election

And all was insane

Boris actually hid in a fridge

Dodging interviews again

He stood up Radio 2

Upsetting not just Jeremy Vine

His flunky swore on live TV

Yesterday morning at breakfast time

Can’t say I’d appreciate him

Delivering my milk

Wouldn’t want it to curdle

From being exposed to someone of his ilk

Corbyn, on the other hand

Is rapidly showing himself to be

By and large the better man

Wanting to improve lives for the many

So think very carefully

Before you cast your votes

The Tories have cocked up everything

Maybe Labour should have a go

Don’t normally do

Actual politics

But this year I’d really love

To boot out all the pricks

Who don’t give a damn

About the likes of us

Who are struggling to get by

And working off our nuts

The country’s in dire straits

I fear for the NHS

I’m sickened by the sight

Of increasing homelessness

I’m furious that the rich

Are in the minority

Yet they hold all the cards

And all the power and money

We all deserve to live

Not exist hand to mouth

If wealth was distributed evenly

This mess could be sorted out

Share and share alike

That’s what I was taught

Greed is one of the deadly sins

But some their riches hoard

So vote for each other

Not just for yourselves

Vote for a better future

So that everyone does well

The Messiah isn’t coming

So let’s be our own saviour

And on this Election Day

FFS please vote Labour!

The Nightmare Before Christmas

Whether you vote Tory

Or whether you vote Labour

Whether you abstain

From using that piece of paper

Keep it under you hat

Because to publicise it will just inflame

The deliberately divisive debates

That are nothing but a game

For divided we fall

And united we stand

For divide and rule

Is the ultimate plan

Split the country

Down the middle

Blame each other

For the Brexit fiddle

Get the general public

At each other’s throats

Then for the competing parties

Expect them all to vote

Get them all to trudge

To the polling stations

Right on top of Christmas

Fanning the flames of a confused nation

At what should be

A time of peace

So many heightened emotions

So much unrest and unease

Let’s all talk manifestos

Instead of goodwill to the world

Let’s see our ‘leaders’ at loggerheads

And rage against the machine unfurl

Let’s whip the country

Into a frenzy

To hell with seasonal cheer

Give em politics aplenty!

And overshadow what should be

The happiest time of the year

A time to lay down arms

A time to forget our fears

Yes, deprive them of that

Give them much to worry about

Get spinning that spin, ye doctors

Get them soap boxes out!

Bring out the boxing gloves

Play dirty, certainly don’t play fair

Crack on with the smear campaigns

Don’t even come up for air!

And put Brexit in prime position

The burning ‘star’ atop the tree

The catalyst for everything

Threatening to end democracy

What a brilliant idea –

Whitehall, you shouldn’t have!

To hell with the birth of Christ

The PM’s job is up for grabs!

And so instead of celebrating

We all engage in our various campaigns

Perhaps set ourselves up for a fall

If we have our hearts set on who ‘wins’

But if someone ‘wins’

Someone always will lose

And we really should be as one

Not divided and having to choose

So, like I said, keep schtum

If indeed do this we must

Then get on with having fun

And commemorating Christmas.