Phil Ward Poems

When in the midday sun,
And you’re having lots of fun,
There's one thing that you really ought to learn,
Don’t forget those silent beams,
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Work till we drop, work till we drop,
We all carry on and we work till we drop,
The roofs got a leak; the cars got a dent,
The money they cost were the savings that meant,
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Where’s me umbrella I had it in me hand,
I can’t lose that, I borrowed it she’ll throw a dicky and,
If I don’t return it in the state she gev it me,
I’ll git no snap for me lunch and nuffin for me tea.
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I love weekends, I lie and stare,
At your picture in the air,
Close my eyes and dream of you,
That’s all I ever want to do.
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Laying on a red seat,
Sliding off the world,
Flying off to paradise,
Heads all in a whirl.
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It’s careless really, quite remiss,
For a snake to lose its hiss,
To stick your tongue out with no noise,
Doesn’t fit with reptile poise,
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It happened oh so quickly,
There was no time to run,
The Vicar had never encountered,
A mugger with a gun.
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As tender as fresh shoots,
Curious fingers explore new emotions as she weaves them into mine searching for nourishment,
A thousand rainbows with gleaming crocks of gold unfold,
We are floating down the winding avenue of the unexplored,
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Harry the fish they called him,
And it was one damp dismal night,
Fit as a fiddle and boy could he swim,
Put up one hell of a fight.
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Ignition, spedition I’m a bullet from the sky,
I’m your flash of inspiration and eureka I cry,
Master of the airwaves with my healing lightening flash,
I’m faster than the speed of light, through galaxies I dash.
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