Otherwise Life

Poems From My Days of Old

The other day, out of nowhere, I was thinking about all the poems I used to write. I started when I was about 15 years old, for no apparent reason other than I had some daft ideas flying about my head. Then I began writing them down. Some of the poems are daft and silly, and still make me laugh (well, I haven’t changed that much), some are serious attempts at analysing the world, and others full of teenage angst. I don’t think I’ll be sharing the latter (a bit cringe inducing even now), but the silly ones I gladly will. I did have a few poems published in anthologies, which was a real buzz and encouraged me to write whenever I could. So here is the first one I’ll share. It’s never been published, but I think it’s one of the best that I wrote at that time.

As this is an original piece of work by myself, please do not copy to any media without prior permission.


In days of old
When knights were bold
And maidens had hairy chests,

There was a Lord
Who, when was bored,
Went out to buy a vest.

He thought it was silly
That when it was chilly
He should have goosebumps abound;

Why should a Lord shiver
In cold, frosty weather
And be like the common crowd?

He decided that day
There would be no delay
In attaining this item so fine.

So, mounting his charger
He would go so much faster
And waste no further time.

He would take no caprice
From the fashion police
(Sometimes pride has to take a bow).

This item so good
And so misunderstood
Has a purpose, they must allow.

So, at the M&S store
He went straight through the door
And dismounted from his pony,

And yelled he would pay
And would see an array
Of vests he could go home in.

So, the staff ran around
But all that was found
Gave his Lordship a coronary arrest.

He gasped with fear
As he drew near
And saw right through a string vest.

Worse was to come,
And to leave the Lord dumb,
He noticed the price so fat.

His jaw hit the floor
Then he gave with a roar
“There’s more holes than there is of that.”

“It’s the fashion you see.”
Said the assistant with glee
As he held the view aloft.

“It is specially made
And left in the shade,
While the holes are made by a moth.”

The Lord now convinced
It would make him a prince
Decided to accept the idea.

It would make his wife proud
To see him enshroud
In some other costlier gear.

So, the item was paid
And proudly displayed
As a fine piece of underwear.

And in the cold months
With all his goosebumps
It was “warm for this time of year.”