Number 8, So what are you going to do about it?

Inspiration has to come from somewhere, and things that occur during the day are bound to provide topics for rhymes.  Indeed, lunch today was at the home of friends; Mark, who is a solicitor and judge, and his wife Sue, also a lawyer.  There were eleven of us there altogether, and we had a wonderfully sociable time.  Mark has just bought a new Nissan Leaf; a totally electric car. The first I've seen in the flesh, and I got a ride in it too.  Cars feature quite a bit in my life, I'm a bit of an enthusiast actually, with too many of my own just now (five).  I might try a rhyme about all the cars I've ever had, but you may have to wait for that one.  But while I'm thinking that one up, here's a lawyer one for Mark:

Number 8  (Eight down and 357 to go).

So what are you going to do about it?

In a fit of rage one day I wrote myself a letter,
And tore myself off quite a strip which made me feel much better.
It’s not my fault was my reply, but I was not so sure;
Who better placed than me, to know? But I thought that I knew more.

I wrote a writ and issued it, and popped it through my door,
Then walked right in and there it was lying on the floor!
I have to say I was not pleased, and very disappointed
That I should take so stern a line; my nose was quite disjointed.

I’ll have my day in court I thought, and then I’ll see who’s sorry,
And later lay awake all night beside myself with worry.
What if I couldn’t prove my case, I’ve no corroboration
I’ve only got my word for it, it’s just an allegation.

It’s evidence I need, I thought, I hardly need a warrant;
I’ll search my house, and then I thought that’s really quite abhorrent.
I can’t condone engaging in something so underhand,
I’ll ask for an appointment first, I thought I’d understand.

In any case I knew for sure I’d nothing I should hide;
My alibi was cast iron strong, and I had never lied
About my whereabouts that night; it wasn’t me who did it.
And then I sat and scratched my head, could I be such a twit?

It had to have been one of us; could I have been that weak?
And if I stood my ground would I turn the other cheek?
Or maybe hold an outstretched hand, let bygones be forgotten;
Perhaps I could forgive myself, I’m really not all rotten.

I have to live forever with the other half of me,
Including parts I never want the world or me to see.
So maybe I was hasty and I should back-track a little;
Things could get broken easily, I’m really rather brittle.

So I’ll just sit and contemplate the future; 'What to do?'
And being master of my ship, summon up the crew.
I’ll have a little chat all round, restore a little calm,
And stop these allegations before they do me harm.

© Stephen Saunders

There was another suggestion made by Doug at lunch today, a rating system.  If you feel like giving these marks out of ten, it will help me to know which ones work and which are pretty useless.  Again, if you know how I can put a feature onto the blog with stars for example, like U tube does I think, then I'd like to know.


To book Steph'nonsense for a rhyming evening:
bowleyfarm@gmail.com or 01428 741212

Agent / publisher wanted.