Sunday, 30 July 2017



No, I'm not too bad at all today,
no, not too bad at all
the plaster, oh, I got that when I had a fall
but I'm not too bad at all.
Don't worry about the bruises there
they're from a cricket ball.
They might be black, but they're very small
I'm not too bad at all.

What's that you say, can't hear too well
I never can, not since I fell..
it was only from a ten foot wall
but I'm not too bad at all.
No, the ankle doesn't bother me..
it happened when I was small
it's just that I didn't realise
that the tree was quite so tall.

I'm really feeling fine today,
I'm not too bad at all.
I've felt much better since the op I had
did you know they took my gall?
Well, they had to
it was full of stones
enough to make you pall...
but really, I'm not too bad at all.

Oh, the pimple on my nose?
It's alright, I've got lots of those
but they're not too bad at all!
My finger, oh, it's okay
I only broke it yesterday..
but I'm not too bad at all.
Hypo - chond - ria? 
No, I've not that had at all
I've not felt better that I recall...

©Crissouli April 1983

Friday, 28 July 2017



Where do they come from,
these faceless people who sit
in lounge rooms every night,
munching happily, many of them,
while they live their lives 
within the rays
of a pulsating box..
Do they have lives 
of their own?
Or do they simply
live in dreams
written and directed
by characters unknown?

The world passes them by 
unknown to them..
their whole existence
is that of an audience.

© Crissouli Feb. 1985

 Image by Pixabay

Thursday, 20 July 2017



 We said "Goodbye" to you today..
for so many years you'd been a part of our lives.
We'd had a long and happy association
but your time had come, I guess.
Because of age, you'd outgrown your usefulness.
You had welcomed others, so many times
but somehow, their presence worried you now.
You seemed to creak a little 
and groan upon their arrival, not very polite.
It didn't seem to matter who they were. 
You began to treat all and sundry
in exactly the same manner.
 They'd all been so kind to you
and had come to visit often,
but you didn't exactly show them your gratitude.
In fact, you usually fell apart regardless.
I kept hoping you'd mellow as you got older..
perhaps you did, in a way,
but your behaviour got too much for us.
I'm afraid we could stand it no longer. 
The friendship simply couldn't survive.
You became unglued just once too often..
Goodbye, old chairs, you served us well!

©Crissouli May 1983

Image courtesy of Pixabay


There was once an old donkey, who lived near the sea
all day long, he went hee haw hee
 I didn't meet him till he was quite old
but I listened carefully to the tale he told.

He was so happy when the children came round
for he'd give them rides, all about the ground
but it hadn't always been that way
and I took lots of notice of what he had to say.

A long time ago, before my time,
even before there was a town hall chime..
he'd been very popular, as a weekend treat
when the parents came down, with their children, so sweet.

The kiddies sat on his back, so tall and strong
and he carried them proudly, all the day long.
The people came, from near and far..
some came on foot, some came by car.

Then one weekend, there appeared near the beach
a great big machine, too tall to reach.
It was bright and shiny, and oh, so grand
and played bright music, just like the town band.

The children no longer came to ride
the poor old donkey and that hurt his pride..
for they all flocked to the merry go round.
It was far more exciting, than him, they found.

He was so sad there, standing all alone, 
and sometimes, softly, you would hear him moan.
Then one bright day, the machine wouldn't go
and the children were crying, as they do, you know.

Till one little girl, in a bright red suit, 
said "Look at the donkey, I think he's cute!"
Then lots of children came over and cried..
"Please, Mr. Donkey, can we have a ride?"

The donkey stood, so tall again 
puffed his chest out, and looked quite vain.
He felt he was useful and was proud once more
this is what he'd been waiting for.

After that day, he was always there
and stayed so important, at the seaside fair.
If you go one day, just look over the hill..
I'm sure you will find him, giving rides still.

 ©Crissouli August 1983

Images courtesy of Pixabay

Saturday, 1 July 2017



Why, when I call your name
do you not respond?
Why when I reach out
is there no one there?
You have been so much a part of me, 
of my life..
Did I depend on you too much?
or was it you, on me?

Was there ever a time that it mattered?
For though two, we're one
in so many ways.
Now, I feel divided
between past and present
then... and now.

I miss your laughter, your smile
your tears..
but mostly, you.
Maybe in time, the pain will lighten..
though I doubt it.
I long for your presence
will I ever be whole again..?

©Crissouli January 1983