Little lambs

They think you’re old and a bit ‘mutton’ but they’re wrong, I’m as sound as a pound and as bright as any button in the button box, and they must think I’m a glutton for punishment but because I soak it all in it means there’s more to dish out when the time is right…

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Singing solo

Going down not thinking, sinkingĀ  in case you’re wondering. I wonder too at the things people do. I’m loved though which is more than some people I know. So, why? if there’s an answer do tell? Silver iodide inside waiting to develop? But cracking up isn’t the same anymore it’s been seen and done too…

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The odd job men

If ‘Bob the builder’ can so can you, you can build your dreams and make them come true, and if you think I can’t, won’t, shan’t then don’t just sit and vegetate, count the many reasons why you can’t build castles to the sky, I’ll wait…

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Moving

Moving 21 MAY 2011 by John Smallshaw in Uncategorized I moved awkwardly she moved like an angel. I moved close she moved even closer. I moved my lips she moved her hips. I moved in with six hundred and twenty-one vinyl records twenty-seven authentic Japanese swords two black cats and fourteen deerstalker hats. she moved…

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part of something 2017

the memorial to man pigeon shit a crushed can, a beggar underneath stone feet looks up to meet the gaze of spent and wasted days a chipped finger pointing to the West and lest the cock crow first I wait a second to begin then try to fit all these thoughts in, a jigsaw and…

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