It’s not that I haven’t any Wi-Fi here in Devon, I’m piggy backing on my wife’s phone, not that she likes me doing that. But no it’s just I haven’t felt inspired, so not written much.

Funny Business

If I could start a new business right hear right now, oh! just let me see
I’m stuck here in my camper van and the rain won’t set me free
I could gather all the fluff from the carpet and make little Teddy bears
Go out in the rain get some wood and make some tiny dolls house chairs

I’ve done all the crosswords in every puzzle book and paper
I’ve made shadow pictures on the side of the van belonging to my neighbour
I’m that desperate for something to do, please make me a suggestion
If I had some paint I’d watch it dry, or listen to football questions

Boredom is my nemesis, it haunts me like a ghost
Yes just sitting doing nothing is the thing that I hate most
If it was snowing, “I’m going out” and then just not come back
But this isn’t the Arctic, and I haven’t got my Mac

It’s nearly an hour now since I went to the loo
The excitement it is building finally something I can do
I think I’ll write some rubbish to entertain my fans
If I can keep my eyes open long enough to fulfil their demands.

Thought I’d add a little extra from my back catalogue.

RAINY DAY BLUES

Sodden streets, sodden roads,
Everywhere covered in frogs and toads
Sodden roofs, sodden logs,
Everywhere the smell of sodden dogs,
Sodden shoes, brollies broken,
Everything is sodden.xxx

Sodden clothes, sodden hair,
Sodden right through to your underwear,
Sodden carpets, sodden beds,
Gets in ones ears and fills ones heads,
Woodwork soaked and going rotten,
Everything is sodden.

Sodden busses, sodden trains,
All this wet causing aches and pains,
Sodden Lorry’s sodden trucks,
Can’t get about for sodden ducks,
Sodden carpets and seats in cars,
Even water in ladies bras.

Sodden moss in pipes and gutters,
My chimney so wet my fire it sputters,
Sodden ant hills full of sodden ants,
I’m wet though to my under pants.
Sodden clouds throwing down sodding rain,
If it doesn’t stop soon I’ll go Insane.

Sodden chips and sodden pies,
Runs off your forehead into your eyes.
Got webbed feet, and growing gills,
Water rising above my window sills,
Dry land almost now forgotten,
Everything is sodden.

Sodden vests and camisoles,
Feet so wet I’ve got gammy soles,
Sodden hedgehogs, sodden bats,
Must go now to wring out the cat,
Climate change and all that’s modern,
Everything is sodden.

All words Meadowhead Bard.