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A Boyfriend Sent From Heaven
Wave Goodbye (To Yesterday's Kate)

The cold and cruel November breeze
has blown the blossom from the trees
their once majestic purple bloom
is now replaced with greying doom
and flower heads, once gay and sweet
now line the kerb beneath your feet

we met in spring when all was fresh
i loved your mind, you craved my flesh
eventually I let you have it
(I never intended to make this a habit)
before we knew your seed was sewn
you could have left me all alone
but I loved you and you loved me
and oh, how happy we could be!

for a while at least things were just great
when i was your 'right now' Kate
you phoned me up three times a day
just too hear my voice, you'd say
but that was then and this is now
such comfort you do not allow
you're just too busy as can be
to spare a thought for poor old me

and so I sit here all alone
beside a silent telephone
that never rings but quietly sits
Reminding me my life's the pits
and from this window i can see
a single solitary tree
no petals do adorn its bough
once there were, but nothing now
its haggard branches stoop and sag
upon the floor they sadly drag
and suddenly, to my disgrace,
upon the tree i see my face!
these eyes with which I see aren't mine!
they must be yours! "Oh why?" I pine
I see you how you must see me
a horrid rancid shitty tree
without petals.
boo hoo.

Lovely Nathon

Lovely Nathon, quick and witty,
Charming, brave and awfully pretty,
Tall and handsome, big and strong,
Always right and never wrong.

Amazing Nathon, full of grace,
Hard of biceps, fair of face,
A boyfriend sent from heaven above
Just for me to love and love.

April Skies

This morning when at last I woke,
And opened up my eyes,
I found the blueness of your own
Replaced the April skies.

Your arms were trees in silent mists,
That brushed against my skin,
The sweet fresh rain that fell around
Was dribble from your chin.

The sun was gone, instead your smile
Did brighten up my day,
And your manly chest was hard as rock*,
And chased bad things away.

Your feet replaced the little flowers,
Your legs were streams of blue,
Oh nature is quite dull, it seems,
Compared to lovely you!

Parochial Plops HomeParochial Plops  
January 2001

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