Oh calamine

Oh calamine, oh calamine,
Your smell is so far from divine.
And yet your use is worth its weight,
The symptoms that you do abate!
You soothe and cool the sorest spots,
And ease the itch of chicken pox.
Oh calamine, oh calamine,
I’ll put up with that smell of thine!


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Half thought

I just had half a thought today,
The other half would stay away.

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Perceived Perfection

Today I share with you a poem about the perception of perfection, questioning the usefulness of the concept.

Perceived Perfection

What is perfection, but a vain aim,
Or concept contrived for self-distain.
An invisible presence always there,
But out of reach, to cause despair.
To look at others we may perceive,
Their perfect life which we conceive,
But we know not the truth that’s theirs,
Reality behind closed doors.

A life too perfect is never true,
So don’t assume what you don’t know.
An outsider merely looking in,
Might perceive a perfect ten.
The insider looking out,
Is far more likely to hold doubt.

How can perfection truly be?
How can no trouble ever sigh,
A weary breath. Exhaustion creeps,
Upon those tired of pretence.
For whom perfection is not near,
But happiness can still be there.

So don’t assume to know it all,
With simple glance, or crystal ball.
And if assumption presents temptation,
Resist the urge to see perfection.
For no such thing truly exists,
Though we may wish it and persist,
In pursuit of the vain endeavour,
Of something we can behold never.

So better then, to do our best,
Put perfection to bed, to rest.
And just be happy with what we have,
Appreciate all that we love.


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The art of the perfect pancake

We love pancake day in our house, so in appreciation of the simple pancake here is a short poem. I’ll put a simple batter recipe below and I’ll add a photo of my homemade pancakes tonight!

The art of the perfect pancake

A simple batter,
Eggs and flour,
Milk a plenty,
No need for sugar.
A pinch of salt,
All whisked together,
Then left to stand for half an hour.
A drop of oil,
A knob of butter,
Will serve to make the taste much better.
Fried and flipped,
Till crisp and golden,
A beauty that should be beholden.
A simple squeeze of freshest lemon,
Sprinkle with sugar,
Pancake perfection!

To make your own pancakes

2 large eggs
100g plain flour
300ml milk
Pinch of salt
(Makes 10-12)

1. Sieve the flower into a large bowl
2. Add a pinch of salt
3. Mix in the eggs one at a time
4. Add the milk little by little, mixing as you go
5. My mum always swore by leaving the batter to stand for half an hour, but if you’re impatient like me you will skip this step!
6. Cook! I use a drop of vegetable oil as it heats to a higher temperature and doesn’t burn like butter, but I as a cheeky bit of butter just before cooking for flavour.

Man in the moon sugar & lemon pancake

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21 years

For my best friend, whom I love dearly!

It’s been 21 years since you were nabbed to sit next to me at school.
We barely knew each, we’d only met once, but neither of us wanted to sit alone or with a total stranger.

Who knew then that we would be friends for life? So different, yet so alike, we learned as we grew close that we understood and trusted each other over all others. And when other friendships faltered ours remained strong.

There were trials from those who tried to stir, but rumours, like the one where she said we were lesbians had no impact. We laughed and didn’t care, and flaunted our closeness by walking arm in arm, as if sticking two fingers up and saying ‘what if we were!?’.

Harder were the times we liked the same boys, but the boys never lasted, and we could ritually remove their memories together once we realised our folly! Ultimately the trials just made us closer.

At times we have been jealous of other new friends, who seem to take our place, the prized and coveted spot of best friend. What they don’t know is that no one can come between us. They don’t have our history. And I won’t allow it.

And even when we haven’t seen or spoken to each other in a while, it doesn’t matter, as when we do finally find time to natter, it’s like nothing has changed. I share with you what no one else gets to hear, and I am grateful for our 21 years.

Nabbing you on the first day of secondary school was one of the best decisions I ever made. So don’t ever be afraid to give me you opinion, ask me for help, or demand I come to visit. I still owe you one for you letting me nab you all those years ago!


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