The sign of love…




How deep he sank
In lover’s arms
Beguiled completely
By winsome charms
And she in arms
That held her near
His innate goodness
Drove out her fear.

And thus true love
Was surely found
Yet from their mouths
Came not a sound
Through signs she made
And gestures he
They knew this love
Was meant to be.

They sat a long time signing
Hands on heart in gentle fists
As all who sat around them
Just simply didn’t exist.
And in their lives together
They’ve never been apart
They always greet each other
With gentle hands on heart.

©Joe Wilson – The sign of love…2017

Friends of mine always communicate this way. This is for them.

To Nandrathan – or to caravan…

In the darkest shadows of Nandrathan
There lurks a horror so great
Fools who venture there at night
Can suffer a terrible fate.

For in those darkened shadows
Beyond a door quite small
There is a tiny nightclub
With comedians who’ll appal.

Once you step inside the door
They chain you to your seat
And play back Bernard Manning
Indefinitely – on repeat.

And all comedians that you hate
Are played on video screens
When Davidson steps onto the stage
Escape, by any means.

So if you’re booking tickets
For a stay in Nandrathan
Change you mind, don’t go there
Do the Broads by caravan.

©Joe Wilson – To Nandrathan – or to caravan…2017
This is entirely for fun and are the ramblings of a silly sausage. 😉