The feisty lady



The king, he ruled, with an iron fist,

nothing got past him, there was not one thing  that he missed.


A law was passed that all the women in the land were his,

created for his pleasure, they must remain unblemished.


But one feisty young lady, with a mind that was all her own,

challenged this law and the king she wished to disown.


Undeterred she took up a sword and headed for the palace,

intent on causing the king misery and much malice.


Happiness could be seen in her smile as she swung the sword at the king,

off came his head, much joy to her it did bring.


The king was dead and so the law was abolished,

a perfect day for the feisty heroine for what she had accomplished.

© C Webber 2017




Butter legs?


Stricken with a curse, her legs were made of butter,
given by a witch doctor, by george he was a nutter.

This one beautiful young gal, she was a damsel in distress,
she tried to cover her embarrassing butter legs, with a long flowing flowery dress.

But one hot summer day, some melted butter caused her to shudder,
her legs were gone, a puddle on the floor, could her life be more cruder?

Along came a dairy expert and made her melted legs a new,
now the damsel able to walk, and wasn’t feeling so down and blue.

So she marched on forward with a shout of defiance and the smell of victory in the air,
her legs made of butter by the witch doctor nutter, but now she really did not care.

 © C Webber 2017

Morning Elixir


Misty mornings, cloud up my opening part,
I need a caffeine filled beverage to give my heart a jump start.

So I flick on the kettle whilst rubbing my eyes,
get out a mug, a spoon, ready to baptise.

A spoon full of elixir enters my cup,
2 sweet sugars and milk to enhance, boiling water fill it up.

Give it a stir, as my senses do too,
this smell from heaven, is this what the gods do?

So I sip up my drink and awaken my soul,
a coffee before anything, my life giving goal.

© C Webber 2017

Pickle Juice


Pickle juice, go on take a sip,
Put a drop right there on your lip.

I just want to see your screwed up face,
Pickle juice, such a sour taste.

Your eyes start to water and mouth starts to wet,
Can I offer you a pint of pickle juice yet?

Hand slaps the table because you can’t withstand,
The pickle juice might, like illegal contraband.

Finally you give up the fight with the sour bitter drink,
Not a great tasting tipple, don’t you think.

© C Webber 2017

Dandelion wishes….


Fresh air cleanse my soul,
Fill my intoxicated lungs a new.

Close my eyes with past aromas,
Smile adorns, oh fresh air.

Bring me back to life,
A sniff of me, once, still remains?

Take me away,
Journey me to  the corners of the earth.

Oh fresh air,
So much worth.

Fields of dandelion wishes,
Waves of meadows, elixir arise.

Darkness scented,
Late love recalled.

Take me back fresh air,
Take me back.

© C Webber 2017

The boy who could read her


She knew not of his inner being, she just did not understand.
He could read her, just from the delicate touch of a soft wanting hand.

He wanted her to know him, he craved it everyday.
He tried to pull her close, she didn’t understand and would move away.

Delicate was his soul, just love him and watch him grow,
Yet alas she did not see, she just did not know.

Words of laughter and love, sprinkle water on his growing self,
Opinion reigns, no growth, placed up away on a shelf.

His pen was his sword but all it did was bleed,
the boy who read her, but she knew not of his need.

© C Webber 2017

The Crooked Road


Along the crooked road,
hopped a crooked toad.
Looking for some crickets, to munch on for his dinner.

But along the crooked road,
there stood a crooked witch,
and she was looking for a toad, for her dinner.

So on crooked road,
there stood the crooked toad,
and a crooked witch.

But there could only be one winner,
both hunting for their dinner.

Like David and Goliath,
my money would have been on the witch,
but the toad pulled out a bazooka,
and blew the witch into bits.

So on the crooked road,
stood a full and bloated crooked toad,
and a spattering of witch who had been blown to bits.

© C Webber 2017