So here we are at a womeny thing,            
and I'm feeling rather male.
I know I'm a girl             
but my mother believes I'm a real femininity fail.
I never wear dresses, except at my wedding,            
and that one my husband designed,
I wanted a beard for years and years              
but hormones were very unkind.

So I build model aircraft and play with the car,             
and wish I could pee standing up,
Well, I can, but it never ends well,             
if you know what I mean having peed in a cup.
It's really bizarre that the reason I'm here             
is because of my husband's announcing,
He's a much better wife than I ever could be,             
always making me tea when I'm flouncing!

Noses, whiskers, whiskers, noses,
Tiny paws with tiny toeses,
Charlie - brown, albino - Moses,
They're my lovely boys!

Most folk I find
Are gentle and kind
They're nice to you
When you are nice too

But some folk I find
Are rather unkind
I find it bizarre
The way that they are

It gets me perplex'd
And thoroughly vex'd
And somewhat dejected
When friendship's rejected

I'm yet more perplex'd
Searched o'er next hill and next
To find what went bad
And made him so mad

But I have no clue
So's nothing to do
But give up the strife
Get on with my life

So my plea to you
Whatever you do
Before the world ends
Be nice to your friends

I still don't feel my best,
I know I need to rest,
But I'm not very skill'd,
At being relax'd and chilled.

I've such a lot to do,
Jobs, lists and housework too,
Viola prac and maths,
And books to read in baths.

And I should lose some ounces,
I'm now so fat I bounces,
I want to walk and swim,
But's hard when feel so grim.

I also get bored fast,
My patience doesn't last,
When I work I go to it,
Then often overdo it.

Must learn to take things steady,
Until my health is ready,
Meantime I sit at home,
And pen this little pome!

What to do I cannot tell,
I go to work - I get unwell,
I stay at home - I have no money,
Really isn't very funny.

Dread defunct car or poorly pet
With garage bills or trips to vet,
The income's low, expenses high,
When pond'ring this I want to cry.

And so I got some well paid work,
But mental nutter demons lurk
Within my head and in a week
The whole damn thing was up the creek.

So should I try the job again,
Perhaps request part-time and then
See what my employers think
Or if I've pushed them to the brink.

But if my health comes first I should
Stay off work 'til I feel good.
But then I'll have no dosh again
And this dilemma hurts my brain.

Young ViolaMaths went out
On the Feast of Stephen,
Where the snow lay round about,
Deep and crisp and even.
Brightly shone the sun that morn,
Though 'twas bloomin' freezing.
Weatherfolk who say 'twill warm,
Surely are just teasing?

Brave bewellied heroine
Trampled to the garage,
Passing frozen wheelie bin,
And her stranded carriage.
Took a good few moments to
Warm the icy padlock,
Fingers starting to turn blue,
She found frozen haddock!

In another freezer drawer
Lay a complete salmon,
Soon would be his time to thaw,
After toast with spam on.
Back indoors to house she trekked,
Snow bashed off each welly,
With fleece blanket soon bedecked,
Snug in front of telly.

So good folk of internet,
This was then my story.
Pome and blip and doormat wet,
All for supper's glory.
Rest of day will be chilled out,
In the way that's merry,
And if you're in any doubt...
Yes, there will be sherry!

Outside the weather's frozzling and all is snowy white,
The coldest parts are reaching minus twenty-odd at night.
My nose is chilled, my fingers cold, my toes are blocks of ice,
I turn the central heating up, but worry 'bout the price.

And so I fear that to keep warm I must wear clothes aplenty,
Long johns, fleeces, hats, scarves, gloves, a coat that's like a tenty!
It takes so long to dress myself I wonder if, instead,
Since days are short this time of year I might just stay in bed!

Today's the nation'l day of pomes but I've not been inspired,
Instead I've purchased sausages and felt a little tired.
I've also done some paperwork and made myself some food,
I've changed the bedding, done some jobs and been in happy mood.
But now while Spouse is feeding cats and family's safely home,
I thought I'd mark this special day with just a little pome!

Rain is rattling on the roof
of my motor car,
Really need a waterproof,
though the door's not far.
Little latte and two shots
espresso does the trick,
Many cars and raining lots
reactions need be quick.
Drunk my drink and "spent a penny"
must get on my way,
Don't imagine there'll be any
rain-free miles today!

On my desk a pile of papers growing every day,
Calls to make and mail to send, enough to turn me grey.
Forty items on the list of jobs I have to do,
Some of these, I'm 'fraid to say, are rather big jobs too.
So I'll sit here, write a pome, and long procrastinate,
Even if it means that all my jobs are finished late!

In the doctors' waiting room they play tinkly tunes,
I guess they're trying to chill us out with easy-listening croons,
But I find that it drives me mad and doesn't even mask
The coughs and sneezes and old dears who always have to ask
Their friends about their bunions or their ulcerated feet,
Or simply think the waiting room a jolly place to meet.

The Wonderspouse he thinks that this is torture most profound,
He says he'd tell them anything if they would kill this sound.
Person'lly I'd much prefer some Beethoven or Bach
Or something really loud like at a rock gig in a park,
But best of all would be to stay in good health at all times,
And never face the waiting room and dreadful tinkly chimes!

Today is my birthday and I'm getting old,
A year since yesterday so I am told,
I've lots of grey hairs which I cover with dyes,
I'll soon need bifocals to help out my eyes,
Things I remember are now ancient hist'ry,
The ways of "the young" are a bit of a myst'ry.

Exactly a century younger than Proust,
Pomes are much shorter than "Search for Time Loost",
Tesla, Orff, Calvin all born this day too,
And my friend Tam - Happy Birthday to you!
Plus Triffids' John Wyndham and Master, John Simm,
@ BookJo's new nephew - big welcome to him!

Recalling my parents this age is a scare,
My Mum was still slim and my Dad still had hair,*
But I never mind getting older each year,
I'm still young at heart and full of good cheer,
Parcels, food, Wagner a good birthday make,
And, of course, I shall enjoy lots of cake!

*Sorry Mum, sorry Dad!