Clay Mask

Another take on my theme of masks.

 

clay dried, kilned, hardened,

rigid, unmoving, caught

timeless, 

statue unbroken,

but wait,

what’s this,

a crack.

tremor lines,

evolving,

spreading,

crouched statue separating from the man,

shards fall,

unmasked

revelation,

where spirit hidden,

essence unconcealed,

stood tall.

Pegging Out With Pole Tig – ‘sad’ acts apply within

Glad,

A wee bit sad,

Little things that make this housewife cheer,

Washing on the line

Because the weather’s fine,

Might be sad but grinning ear to ear. 🙂

Knickers in the breeze,

Drying day to please,

Simple pleasures really are my thing,

Another load is on,

Some sunshine, can’t go wrong,

Writing silly ditties in between.

Sun just rocks my socks,

Getting my rocks off,

Washing, scrubbing, sad act that I am,

Fluttering in the air,

Like laundry hung out there,

Playing housewife just because I can.

Very simply true,

‘Tween you ‘n’ me, we two,

Teaching keeps me busy all term time, so

When holidays roll round,

Or on weekends, I’ll be found,

Doing what all other housewives do.

Catching up on chores,

Risking kids be bored

By thankless tasks that make their eyeballs roll,

Think that I’m a fool?

Well, here’s the golden rule,

Bribe them, sugar spoonful, that’s the goal.

They’ll thank me come the day

They learned how to play

Working in the sunshine, way cool gig,

For in between each bout

We’re running all about

Learning garden games; they love ‘Pole Tig’.

So yeah, chores can be some fun

And when the chores are done

Mary Poppins’ bag holds every trick

A charm or two inside,

Stretch it open wide,

Imagination, smiles that make kids tick.

No lament from me,

‘Cause I have got the key,

Brighter days are here along with Spring,

Pegging out the days,

Working while we play,

Mummy’s home from school. I guess part-time. :/

 

Masked Molly’s Ballad

The masked theme is, apparently, still running.

Along came Molly with her handbag and a brolly

And a mask to cover all and any fears,

At five foot ten she socked it to the men

Who reduced any woman down to tears.

Half brick in the bag, she was no one’s hag,

An avenger with a twinkle in her eye

Hidden by the mask, enjoying each and every task

And that, my friends, I’m telling is no lie.

Strutting on the street, she greeted all she met

With a jolly jape for all who hailed her friends,

Legs up to her neck, brolly held erect

Baton, nightstick, brolly use no end.

Patrollers when they viewed presumed that she was new

A lady of the night with fetish weird,

Mask, bag, brolly, a monumental dolly,

Confidence exuding, nothing feared.

Men who asked the way or offered her to pay

Were directed to the ladies, caution told

‘Be good to my sisters,’ warning all the misters,

Some there were who answered, brash and bold,

‘I’ll treat them how I please once I get them on their knees,

I’m paying so I get to do my thing’,

Then Molly got real close and whispered, nose to nose

They scurried off, ne’er seen in parts again.

The misters who were keen, abstained from being mean,

Were surprised when Molly shook their hands and squeezed,

For Molly was a dude just doing what he could

To balance equality displeased.

A brolly laden maiden with a brick inside her bag,

A crushing hand, a mask that hid her growth,

Legs that went for miles, an empathetic smile,

Ex-copper, superhero light on toes.

Now Molly was a mister who’d had a little sister

Who’d embraced the oldest trade since time began,

He didn’t judge the men though he took no shit from them,

Bitch-slapping hypocrites as only superheroes can.

Watch out for Big Molly, a mister-sister dolly,

Protector of all women, punters too,

As long as there’s this trade, mister-sisters should

Remember Molly loved his sister, just like you.