April Fool’s Day : Spaghetti Tree

“Can I have some money, Mum?”

My young son said to me.

“What for?” I asked,

“And how much do you want?”

He replied, “Only 50p”

“It’s a surprise”, he said,

“So I can’t tell you,

But I know you’ll like it

‘Cause I saw it on TV”.

“Go on then, if that’s all you want”,

I said, offering the required amount.

And off he skipped to the local shop

In search of a spaghetti tree.

(I knew that, ‘cause I’d seen it too)

And I knew what would happen next.

My son just loved spaghetti,

And until now hadn’t known it was

Manufactured, not grown, or sown.

I waited patiently for his return,

Preparing myself for tears.

I pictured his face when he found out the truth,

Though it didn’t transpire as I’d feared.

He ran in the door with a box in his hand

Which rattled as he ran.

Turned out the shopkeeper knew of the scam

And had stuck labels on all his packets.

“Plant it in a pot and water it weekly”, he’d said,

And you’ll soon see you have a spaghetti tree”.

© Val J. Chapman 1^st April 2021

These Foolish Things (Remind Me of you)

A dancer’s wings are foolish things,

And always remind me of you.

When your telephone rings

You’d know it was me

And you flew!

Still, the ghost of you clings

To the fairground’s painted swings

And now the only thing with wings

Is your airline ticket.

© Val J. Chapman 1^st April 2021

When Father Papered the Parlour

I never was too good at DIY,

Though I was pretty good at saying it,

DIY, but why?

So when it came to papering my lounge,

I had a bet; that I could make a go of it,

And believed I could, and yet,

I found the task quite daunting;

The walls weren’t straight, for one,

So it really was a challenge just to get the paper on.

And not just that, the pattern match was difficult as well;

The bluebells ended up in the trees

And the branches all had grass instead of leaves.

Oh well! Next time I’ll just paper the windows;

I’ll have a lovely outlook then.

© Val J Chapman 4^th March 2021

DIY Disasters and Triumphs (but mainly disasters!)

Right, said Fred

There they were, with brews and fags.

Yorkshire Tea? Dunno, couldn’t see the bags.

But there they sat, having a brew.

Dunno when they were going to do

Anything.

Oh, there they go, digging a hole,

A hole in the ground, it’s big and sort of round,

And yet, why was that?

It wasn’t obvious to me,

And the next time I looked, they were drinking more tea!

Builders, eh? You could never fathom it.

How anything got done.

Yet, there were signs everywhere:

Danger! Builders at work.

I think the real danger was,

That they actually might!

© Val J Chapman 4^th March 2021