Twiddling Knobs

Cut from the same cloth,

Poured into a mould,

Flippant in excesses,

Warm words written cold.

Fine-tuned with a dial,

Ear to hear the clicks,

Turn, turn, got it!

Enough to make you sick!

Agenda’d to the hilt

With a dash of silken voice,

Clones, in cloistered tower,

Drowning in white noise.

History rewritten so soon,

By the boys that live in back,

Twiddling knobs – yes, knobs, I said,

I’m glad I have a … different body part.


Although, admittedly, some of those who do,

Twiddle knobs too.

8 thoughts on “Twiddling Knobs”

    1. And scampers through the glens,
      Dressed in kilt and ‘still yes’ badge,
      Provoking mice and men!
      Just back in from one such meet,
      Cannae keep my big trap shut,
      We’ll have our way, the Scottish way,
      No ifs or ands or buts!

      Liked by 1 person

  1. On my bucket list, drink strong Ale some day sitting on the same side of the table as my friend Anne-Marie, and on the other side whoever I feel a grievance with at the time! 😉 Loved this! 🙂


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