Related quotes: We'll soon be on the...

On the Move Again

We'll soon be on the move again
Just like we've done before,
Although it won't be far this time:
We're going to live next door!

It seems we're getting expert
At this removals lark;
We've moved at every time of day
And even after dark.

We're better than professionals
At packing up our stuff;
We know the routine backwards,
Seems we've never had enough.

Four times in just three years
We've flitted with our goods;
We've gone from being urban
To living near the woods.

Yes, like I say, we're moving
Just o'er the neighbours fence;
At least there'll be no van to hire,
So that's ONE less expense.

And boxes are no problem
Because, I have to say,
We've lots left o'er from last time
That we never threw away.

So, out will come the dusters,
The mops and buckets too;
And I'll be hoarse with shouting:
'Is it time to have a brew? '

We'll get the kids to help
By dusting all the dirty places;
But sure as eggs are eggs
The dirt will end up on their faces.

Still, does it really matter?
We'll get there in the end;
We've put the feelers out for help
From family and friends.

We've even had an offer
From good old brother Dave
Who lives two hundred miles away,
He's either mad or brave!

Yes, like I say, we're off AGAIN
Just like I knew we would;
My sister's husband reckons
I've got gypsy in my blood.

But surely, in this better house
We're renting from the 'crown'
We'll spend both long and happy years,
And finally settle down?

Written July 1995

poem by John Carter Brown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Related quotes

Spend My Time

How can we know how far
The long way can be
Looking from where we are
It never seemed that long to me
I've many miles behind me
Maybe not so much ahead
Seems I made good time
With the directions I misread
I'm gonna spend my time
Like it's going out of style
I'm moving the bottom line
Farther than a country mile
I still have hills to climb
Before I hit that wall
No matter how much time I buy
I can never spend it all
Funny thing that time
We're always running out
I'm always losing mine
There's not enough of it about
And though it's always here
It will always come and go
The days become the years
That'll be gone before you know
So I'm gonna spend my time
Like it's going out of style
I'm moving the bottom line
Better than a country mile
I still have hills to climb
Before I hit that wall
I won't go quietly into that dark night
There'll be no more burning daylight
I'll be living in
Every moment that I'm in
I'm gonna spend my time
Like it's going out of style
I'll only use what's mine
I've been saving for a while
I still have hills to climb
Before I hit that wall
No matter how much time I buy
I can never spend it all
No matter how much time we buy
We can never spend it all

song performed by by Clint Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

All I Need From You Is That You Clean Me, Mama

you lay a mat on the floor
for you to understand dirt and its implications its complications
to the wall
or to the center table and to the rest of the parts of your house,
dirt must be eradicated, that is your rule number one,
so you put lots of mats and rugs, doormats, floormats,
in every door in every corner of the floor

all dirts are not welcome,
it is as though you have studied dirt at length for years,
what is dirt? what are the kinds of dirt? the causes of dirt?
the consequences of dirt? the historical background of dirt,
and your recommendations finally about
dirt
its control and eradication,

you have talked about dirt and how you disliked it,
how you have driven dirt away from this house
how you called they police when dirt resisted to leave
and of course they all were arrested and jailed
without bond
the judge convicted dirt on the basis of those dirty exhibits
and dirty testimonial evidence,

dirt must be poisoned by lethal injection, hanged, electrocuted,
to make them disappear forever
that is your firm belief
your solid conviction

the sound philosophy of
your society

you are talking to me, and i will now tell you who am i really,
my name, the place where i live, my family and how i am related to you,

mother, i am dirt, my name is dirty, my family is dirty,
i live in a dirty place, i am your son,

i cannot step on your doormat, immediately i must leave now
you will report me to the police and i will be arrested
and jailed and even be hanged dead,

all i need is only that you clean me, mama.
now, please........

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Time

Written by ricki & kim wilde
They say that love is a dangerous thing
And hits your heart like a revolution
And all the pain it can bring
Will only lead to confusion
But now that love has come into my life
Well Ive discovered a different meaning
And theres no danger at all
Its just a beautiful feeling
I konw its wrong to keep it inside for so long
When we both could see it coming
It was just a matter of time
Time
Falling in love with you was just a matter of time
Falling in love with you
It seems so long ago we were just friends
Different people with different faces
Just getting on with our lives
Isnt it funny how fate is
But I know its right the way that were feeling tonight
Cos we both could feel it coming
It was just a matter of time
Time
Falling in love with you was just a matter of time
Baby, I knew with you it was just a matter of time
Something so good was worth waiting for
Now its easy to say that I love you
When youre feeling it too
Cos we knew in our hearts
That is was just a matter of time
Falling in love with you

song performed by by Kim Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

A Time To Write About Time

how do you write time? as simple as asking what time is it?
and then you look at your watch and say
without much thinking about how time passed swiftly and how
it affected you leaving you another lock of white hair
and sense of nostagia of
i am left out here and i have done nothing about the passing of time

it is 8: 17 in the morning, you hear some roosters still cocking out
their maleness to the hens laying their eggs in the warmth of their
quest for more of them

scrambled eggs and scratches on the grass for food

now finally i have found time to write about time
for eyes to look into my own eyes for hands to work on my own hands

time swiftly passes by
and i have noticed more wrinkles on my hands, more lines on my
forehead, eyebags, weakened knees, blisters on my feet, sagging cheeks, falling flesh on my arms,

my heart beats faster on the worry of
i have not done well enough and time passed by leaving me away
with this feeling of

there they are on happy faces with children and grandchildren
and birthdays and deaths and graduations and anniversaries

where are we my dear? we are in this house where there are only
two of us left
we are watching tv and this advertisement on milk for old age
and new born babies

how can we relate to the time that i am writing? i sit beside you,
i hug you again (for the nth time of this almost 30 years of being
together)

i turn off the tv, and let the silence be with us again
i hold your hand, and tell you the usual sweetest words
your name, i always say your name
and my name, you always call me by my name

i hold your hand, your head on my shoulder, we sit together
facing the sunset on the sea on the horizon where birds are flying towards their own nests

it is 5: 15 p.m., time is not freezing. it need not stop just like the
way we really want it

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!