A four line poem

I know that I shouldn`t,
But just had a cream cake,
Resist it I couldn`t,
E`en for my figure`s sake!

One thirty in the morning
And husband still asleep
But having bad hicCups
It makes me want to weep

So how come he's still sleeping
And me now wide awake?
It makes me want to strangle him
It's Phsycho, the remake?

So here I am downstairs
Just me upon the pooter
The only blinking problem is
The bloomin BT router!

The nicest thing about winter days
Is making a big stew
Then eating it for your tea
With a fluffy dumping too.

Oh Mrs Pickle, how I do sympathise.
Our connection has a mind of its own
In the middle of nowhere it comes and goes
And all we can do is cuss and moan.

Today the sun has been shining
And the white-flecked hills so pretty
I wish I could get out and roam
Instead of sitting feeling s***ty!

Men are like cars, one of a kind
there's the Lotus that speeds in and out
or the Roller, posh and refined
a touch expensive no doubt

The Merc, built for stamina and pace.
Some may be old and comfy
and not win any race,
like the Humber, that's me

My son keeps his car
In beautiful nick
So why's there no water
When mud on the 'screen is so thick?

Does he not drive it?
Does he not check?
It was very annoying
But what the heck!

I took my dear sister
Out for a drive
We went to see Dad
Thought we wouldn't arrive!

I had to throw snow
At the windscreen to clean it
It was gleaming after
You should have seen it.

Look after that car, I'm told
So off to clean and polish
be it windy, wet or cold
to my Polish mate I rush

My first car was called Cilla
And I fell into despair
When Cilla got too poorly
And too expensive to repair.

My second car was Dolly
She really was a star
But I sold her very easily
To We Buy Any Car.

Now I drive Miss Betty
She's very smooth and sleek
And lovely on the motorway
At least four times a week.

She loves to travel at great speed
That's the reason she was made
Designed to be a salesmen's car
She really made the grade.

But now Miss Betty is our car
Our lovely pride and joy
She's knows she's classier than most.
Def not the hoi polloi.

Our car is a great big Vectra,
Chosen for towing a `van,
She glides along like a spectre,
Now the caravan`s gone down the pan!

This car is too big for us now,
In petrol it`s a guzzler,
Time for it to take a bow,
What to buy instead? It`s a puzzler!

A mini is too small
To fit my body in it,
On getting out I`d be sure to fall,
And then I`d shout "let`s bin it"!

Miss Betty was bought to tow our van
She really is a charmer
She'll pull and pull along the road
Even mountains don't alarm 'er

Have you considered a little Corsa?
They're spacey and quite nippy
You could put daisy decals on
And live life like a hippy.

Shopping each day in a loathsome store
Finding housework a mind-numbing chore.
Preparing a meal is a job I detest.
Cooking, my way, makes food hard to digest.

Growing old and tired of life’s many vexations.
Becoming more aware of my body’s limitations.
Wanting to leave it all behind me and go.
Knowing, as I depart, I’ll be going below.

Grinning a welcome, Old Nick bids me wait.
Undoing the chain which holds shut the gate.
Holding out my shovel he bids me begin.
Earning, by my sweat, the wages of sin.

The evening sun was shining
With golden ethereal light
The birds were pecking at the seeds
Before settling for the night.

The evening twighlight deepened
The dog and I walked on
It was bracing out in the evening air
But good to be back home.

I hate snow
It's horrid cold and wet
Then it freezes over
And makes the paths an icy threat.

We have little springer,
Anu is her name
And she is the greatest sock thief
In the sock thief hall of shame.
She has a great addiction
For your very latest pair
But when you come to put them on
There's only one to wear.

Slippers take her fancy
It all is quite a game.
But when she's played around with them
They're never quite the same.
You go to slip them on your feet,
Which are quite cold, when bare,
But then you see the toes have gone
And the sole just isn't there!

Sister in law's dog's a nut
Any socks she loves to chew
She pulls it off your foot
They come out in her poo!

The socks are only fit for binning
When picked up and duly bagged
The silly dog sits there grinning
Her long tail madly wagged

She thinks it a lovely game
Nothing done makes her stop
Reasons are getting increasingly lame
For buying more socks from the shop

M&S sales are soaring
When it comes to buying socks
Shopping is now terribly boring
SIL prefers to be buying frocks.

When harvesting your crop
whether it be naga or Mexican chili
remember, while you chop
don't be silly and touch your willy eyes

Where do they get the healthy bacteria
For the probiotic drink
They get it from what goes down the loo
I'm amazed it doesn't stink.

They fill our gut with healthy bugs
That help us with our food
So drinking stuff that's laced with poo
Is actually quite good.

Is that really true, vq?
Bacteria re-used in that way?
Most of us surely never knew
While we slurped those drinks from day to day.

Oh FarNorth
It's really true
Probiotics
Are laced with poo.

But FarNorth
Put your fears to rest
It's only the bugs
And not the rest.

Our guts are full of bacteria
All of it very good
Drinking more seems rather silly
I don't think we should!

I know the bugs are in there
I saw it on the telly
But most folks have all the bugs the need
Already living in their belly.

You only need to add the bugs
If you've been proper poorly
And your good bugs have been killed off
Either quickly or more slowly.

By eating cheese and yoghurt
You will get them back
They grew again quite quickly
And get you back on track.

Heard about these bugs that grow
some said they were good for lunch
but when I decided to give it a go
o' my how those roaches crunch

Poor little insects, what a shame
You ate them for your lunch
Please try to find some other game
To bite and chew and munch.