A pound in the slot and out comes the chain,
It's Saturday supermarket shopping again,
And so I've obtained my large wire trolley,
And when shopping, you certainly need loads of lolly!
She picked up the bags which contained all her shopping,
Trying to carry them along without dropping
The contents. Hoping the handles wouldn't give way,
Spreading her purchases around on display.
Bathed in tepid water,
powder puffed in clouds of special talc:
this little lady is then pigtailed
with coloured ribbons
I write my shopping-list in rhyme.
It doesn’t take me too much time,
and always helps me to remember.
(I’ve been doing it since last September.)
Busy crowds, lonely hearts, broken dreams
Shopping for yesterday.
Visiting the shared moments,
In all the familiar places
The plane fare to the tropic island was $900 (round-trip) ,
and on the island's thorny growth, my Armani swim suit did rip.
Our rustic sleeping accommodations there were another $1000 a night,
and our so-so meals were 'extra', AND prices on their wine list were 'out of sight'!
Store up for a while
What things you might need
Just for few weeks
No more you see
I am going shopping
But I will not see Mr. Smith,
Even Mrs Velnet would not
Cross my sight today
Today, it's the first time in six weeks
We left home for grocery shopping.
We traveled together to the parking
Then we departed inside the building.
I was all shook up when I pulled up beside a sandwich-board sign which read GENERAL STORE – OPEN. Not by Elvis unfortunately, but by fifty kilometres of corrugated gravel road.
The multi-colour strip door fluttered invitingly and the store interior was cool and dark.
“G’day, ” said a man behind a counter.