"In Remembrance For Aye" (Entry 90)

Falling o’ the bitter rain, 

Fits the sorrow in our hearts. 

We’ve lost the sunshine of thy smile, 

Downcast and woe, now we’re apart. 

You will ne’er be forgotten, 

With that we guarantee, 

When e’er we see a rainbow, 

We will always think on thee. 

***

Dedicated to Tess,

a good friend gone from this world far too soon,

and all our loved ones who have departed.

"The Corner of My Diary" (Entry 79)

On the corner of my diary, 

There is a perforation. 

A quarter circle to tear away, 

After each eve’s termination. 

Twenty four hours tick by. 

As that time is done. 

Then rip the edge to reveal a bite. 

A place to rest your thumb. 

Tattered paper fragment scatters, 

Represents bygone days. 

All that is left for you to see, 

A passing of your ways. 

As each page turns and eaten up. 

An empty chunk is all you see. 

Of a life slowly gnawed away. 

Dates pass into memories and flee. 

***

 

"My Passion for Chanel and Fashion." (Entry 71)

I like Dior, Prada and Gucci,

Versace, YSL, Burberry and Pucci.

I think that Ralph Lauren and Calvin Klein,

Tommy Hilfiger and Cavalli are all quite fine.

If you gave me Louis Vuitton, Boss, DKNY or Kors,

and Miu Miu, Mulberry, Moschino; I would be yours!

Have you met Valentino, Chloe, and Chris Kane?

Also the two R's - Oscar and Sonia, long may they reign.

I admire Armani, Bottega, Celine and D&G,

Gaultier, Marni, but there's just one house for me.

In Parisian Fashion - a leading light.

Be it high style or pret-a-porter. They are sure to delight.

With No. 5 in the air, head to their salon,

It’s a different world in rue Cambon.

A glimpse of tweed, a Camellia or two.

Dressed in jersey make your debut.

Leather quilting, pearls, gold chains by the score.

Add a little black dress, and you’re out of the door.

In a ballet pump, or two-tone kitten heel,

In black, white or beige, it’s sure to appeal.

That famous logo, whenever I see,

My heart skips a beat, at Coco Chanel's CC.

Their cosmetics and perfumes, I continue to hoard. 

But, oh, the elegant clothes! I wish I could afford.

I love wearing my vintage blazer find,

Without my sunglasses and specs, I'd be near enough blind!

I wear my black flats, and earrings with pride.

When I bought my 2.55 handbag, I cried.

With Karl Lagerfeld in charge, it’s sure to endure,

Fashion’s great house of chic haute couture.

The little black dress, handbag and perfect suit.

Mademoiselle Chanel, Gabrielle, it's you we salute.

And with this, I send you a Rouge Coco kiss! xx

***

"Yummy Mummies" (Entry 63)

Here comes the Volvo and the four by four,

And the Jag, or the hybrid; the cars they adore.

It’s the smart set - the preening ladies who lunch - 

Yummy mummies who gossip and munch.

Identical haircuts in identikit lives.

Looking, to all, like the Stepford Wives.

Kiddies sliced out, and shoved into Nanny’s control.

Then trendy daycare and THE right school. That is the goal.

They bray, and they boast, and stick with their peers.

Showing photographs of recitals, gymkhanas and Tarquin’s gap year.

All about image. Keeping up with the in-crowd.

Must follow the herd. Suitable marriage, they vowed.

The children are accessories. The heir and the spare.

Ornaments to dress, show off, and compare.

No more important than other dinner party chat.

Such as their three holidays a year, or who’s getting fat.

These missus’ are more interested in mani/pedi’s and a good facial,

Leaving them Botoxed, injected with a look that is glacial.

So they meet, and they bleat, together in packs.

Then off to the salon for a Brazilian wax.

But where is the love? Where is the care?

Does all that affection goes into an affair

With the personal trainer, who gropes at her breast?

Or does it end up in the empty bottle of Scotland’s best?

Perfect lives. Perfect wives.

Perfect weight. Perfect mate.

Perfect spouse. Perfect house.

Perfect wedding ring. Perfect off-spring.

Perfect folks. Perfect HOAX.

***