Monday, 22 May 2017

Dear Person...*Blog Post*

Dear Person On Duty Behind The 'We Are Here To Help' Desk,

May I suggest that in order to perpetuate the myth that you actually ARE 'Here To help' you replace your customer greeting of "Go on then, what's up?" with a more courteous "Good morning/afternoon, how may I help you?"

Perhaps, should you ever manage to undergo the necessary surgery to remove a cupped palm from an unshaven chin as you lean upon your elbow in a state of disgruntlement, you could attempt to curve your tightly pinched, inconvenienced lips into, at least, the semblance of a smile?

(A visual aid has been included with this missive to assist you in implementing such an arduous manoeuvre).

Also, as innovative as it may be that you have utilised your body odour as a means of repelling customers who bear complaints, I personally find the anaesthetising properties of your pungent pits to be overly productive. Perhaps a visit to the 'personal hygiene' section of your store could prove advantageous both for yourself and anyone within a five-mile radius. 

Dear Person Who Parks Car On Pavement Blocking All Pedestrian Access Causing Havoc For Disabled People And Those Pushing Prams,

You park in disabled bays too, don't you? Well, being a selfish prick isn't a disability! Think of people other than yourself! 

Obviously, in order to do that, you'd need to enquire about having your lobotomy reversed, however, I'm certain such an effort would be gratefully appreciated by all those vulnerable passers-by who struggle daily to resist the urge to take a sledgehammer to you and your vehicle!

Dear Person Who Lets Their Dog Off The Lead In Park Despite Plethora Of Signs Stating It Is PROHIBITED!,

No doubt it will come as a great shock to discover that your precious bundle of bouncy-wouncy furriness has the potential to rip a baby's face off based on the principle that anything with a f******g mouth can bite!!

Yes, I know that your fluffy-diddums wouldn't hurt a fly but flies are not at risk here, are they?

I grasp that it's hard for you to absorb the notion that your four-legged chum could be more 'feral' than 'friendly' but that's just how it is.

And yes, I've read the heartwarming stories where a poor pooch left bereft  by its owners' demise has kept a loyal, lengthy and solitary vigil splayed across their grave...very touching...

...but I've also read the heart-stopping stories where a poor pooch, suddenly and inexplicably bereft of its senses has unceremoniously leapt upon its owner, shredding them to pieces as one would pulled pork whilst casting a blood-crazed eye over the hamster for potential dessert!

And finally...

Dear Person Who Wears Crocs,


© Copyright Lynn Gerrard

Sunday, 21 May 2017

Wilde and the Gargoyle...

The Gargoyle thought

Of Oscar Wilde

As to herself

She muttered

I may be looking

At the stars

But I'm stuck

In this bloody Gutter!

© Copyright Lynn Gerrard

'Can't Do Right'...

I can't do right

For doing wrong

So I'm going to sing

The 'Can't Do Right' Song

Don't look for a melody

'Cos there is no tune

Needless to say

I screwed that up too!

© Copyright Lynn Gerrard

Most Cruel...

I do not know

Which is the most 


Losing the energy

Of youth

Or retaining

The memory of it

© Copyright Lynn Gerrard

Thursday, 18 May 2017

Dark Passion...

Give me calm

In my head

Give me chaos

In my bed

Use your tongue

To console

Let dark passion

Take control

Poem only © Copyright Lynn Gerrard

Sunday, 12 March 2017


When did

The sound of my voice

Become an inconvenient


At the other end of a phone

The focus of

Forced niceties 

And barely concealed sighs?

When did

An invitation for my presence

At family gatherings

Become a reluctant


The product of

Guilt-laced obligation

Rather than want?

When did

A loved one's visit

Become an accommodating


Of  cheerful attendance

And frequent

Surreptitious glances 

Towards the clock?

When did

My talk and opinions

Become regarded

 Inconsequential babble

Politely tolerated


Placatory smiles

Of covert condescension?

When did

The buoyant and essential me

Become deemed

An irksome burden

A repository 

Of defunct purpose

And ever eroding


When did

The value of me

Become measured

Purely by

My fading dexterity

And not by

The vitality

Of my essence?


When I grew old

My friend

When I grew old.

Poem only © Copyright Lynn Gerrard

Sunday, 12 February 2017

Song Of Life...


The ground

No longer dances

To the rhythm

Of our tread


Our song of life

No longer

Fills the air


By man's hand

We are pushed

Into extinction


The absence

Of our music

Bring despair.

Poem only © Copyright Lynn Gerrard

Saturday, 11 February 2017



Who have


Would give me


Yet I

Who have little

Would give you


Poem only © Copyright Lynn Gerrard

Saturday, 4 February 2017

Shadow Dancing...

Our bones may creak

Our skin may sag

But we can leave 

Old age behind

If we dare to step

Beyond the flesh

Onto the dance floor

Of the mind!

Poem only © Copyright Lynn Gerrard

Monday, 30 January 2017


Happiness cracked my ribs

And gave me wrinkles

My laughter lines

Are deeper than an Arctic crack

I have to wear a corset

Since my sides split

And I've been in stitches

More times

Than a needlepoint plaque!

Yes, happiness has caught me

Creased up and crying

Doubled over

And rolling in the aisles

I've bust a gut, cracked up

Thought I was dying

When I got lock jaw

Through an overzealous smile!

Happiness has left me

Panting madly

Struggling to find a breath

In a great guffaw

But more than that

It's made me feel quite shameful

When a chuckling chortle's caused me

To wet my drawers!

All in all

You're welcome to your merriment

But in my case

It's just not working out

The risk assessment's proven

Joy's too damaging

So, I'll medicate on misery

Through a pout.

Poem only © Copyright Lynn Gerrard

Sunday, 29 January 2017

Let My Tears Flow...

Let my tears flow

That they should carry

The unrelenting ache

Of my broken heart

Back to a place

Where once

You and I

Held the other close

And would never part.

Poem only © Copyright Lynn Gerrard

Sunday, 22 January 2017


All is not lost

Have ye more faith

The light may dim

And in shadow bathe

Still, in the darkness

Should you gaze

You'll catch the colours

Dancing in the shade

Poem only © Copyright Lynn Gerrard

Saturday, 21 January 2017

The Yoke...

A yoke of worry

Presses against my shoulders

As burdensome a weight

As sea soaked sand

Each grain a vessel

Bloated with my troubles

Each step I take

Pulling me closer

Towards the ground

And should I fall

I fear I will not rise again

Solely for the lack

Of a helping hand

Yet were it offered

I doubt that I would take it

What use the gesture

If not the care to understand


If I surrender tthe pressure

Of the weighted sandbags

Swollen with my woes

And allow the gritty contents

To consume me

I would find release

Within death's throes

Or better I should stand

Against such hardship

Refusing to succumb to my life's trials

And free myself of all

That would devour me

By removing sorrows

One grain at a time.

Poem only © Copyright Lynn Gerrard

Saturday, 14 January 2017

Sleep Not...

As weary as I am

I do not crave sleep

I fear its touch

For the loss of all

It takes

For the stolen moments

Of my life it harvests

When spent

I have lost the battle

To stay awake.

I tremble

Before the monsters

Sleep delivers

As they drag

My soul

Through chambers

Bedecked in dread

But most of all

Terror stalks

My senses

With the knowledge that

Sleep is but a taste

Of death.

Poem only © Copyright Lynn Gerrard

Another's Shoes...

A day spent

In another's shoes

May expose a weary trail

Spend but a moment

In their head

To truly witness pain.

 © Copyright Lynn Gerrard


As for the children

There was a deadness

In their eyes

And a darkness

In their souls

For they 

Had been burdened

With the sins of 

Their forefathers

And would be

Forever shackled.

Poem only © Copyright Lynn Gerrard

Fragile Heart...

A heart so fragile

Made of glass

Holding teardrops

From the past

Poem only © Copyright Lynn Gerrard

Monday, 9 January 2017



Wraps itself

Around my frame

As taut

And as comforting

As a lovers embrace

Poem only © Copyright Lynn Gerrard

Friday, 6 January 2017

The "tut-tut" Brigade....

The older I get

The more I regret

Leaving words unsaid

Caring for feelings

Is most unappealing

The closer I creep towards death

And I truly resent

My reluctance to vent

Just in case I should dare to offend

The delicate senses

Of pedants whose lenses

Are priggishly poised to condemn

I'm also most vexed

With 'politically correct'

When it's usage is overly played

We'll soon be too scared

To utter a word

For fear of the "tut-tut" brigade

If only such focus

Was placed with more onus

On values we used to uphold

Like respect for the other

Regard for another

Society might not be as cold

So, the next time you meet me

Or text me or tweet me

Be aware that whatever I say

Will be spoken with truth

Not malign nor aloof

But no doubt in an 'inappropriate' way.

Poem only © Copyright Lynn Gerrard