Sometimes I do this,

just start writing and see what happens.

My brain starts whirring,

I start scribing.

Oh what fun it is,

to not know where you’ll end up.

Unless you end up in Scunthorpe,

with no shoes and socks.


Occasionally I pause,

reflect on what’s been said.

It makes me wonder,

about the state of my head.


Am I a genius?

I doubt it very much.

Am I a madman?

no more than you.


Back to the journey,

we’re embarking upon.

Are you still with me?

If so, shall we wed?


I do love you I think,

that sinking feeling you get,

when you’re head over heels.

That deep sense of dread,

when you know they’re the one.

The impending doom,

when they enter the room.

I have all the above,

classic symptoms of love.

I’m hopelessly terrified,

by especially for you.


I’m riding a plane as I write these words,

not in a sexual way though!

Get your minds out of the gutter,

it’s no place for us.

I once uttered that I was gutted,

but I wasn’t in the gutter.

I was in Scunthorpe,

with no socks and shoes.


Although I did get to wondering,

on this flight from the UK.

At what point the mile high club,

becomes it’s kilometre cousin?

Is it possible to join both,

on the same flight?

I’m unsure of the etiquette,

of bonking midair.


Heading to Frankfurt,

home of the sausage.

And then on to Kiev,

where I’ll be fed only chicken.


Imagine if Frankfurt had invented the kiev,

if processed bangers hailed from Ukraine.

Would the world be a better place?

I’d like to think so,

I’d like to think so.


I’d especially like to think so,

whilst joining the mile/kilometre high club.

You do only get to join once after all,

it would be nice to make it last.



2 thoughts on “Nonsense…

  1. Lots of good fun wordplay here, but I fear you’ll never be appointed to the chamber of commerce or whatever they call it in the UK for Scunthorpe 😂

    1. I actually don’t live that far from Scunthorpe. One day, I’ll write something nice about the place. As soon as I can think of something…

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