Budapest’s House of Terror

A corner building, grey and stark

Casts terror in its shadow

And evil’s chill lingers still

From times, not long ago

Ghastly crimes committed here

Repelling, but so real

With torture’s sound, below ground

To bring people under heel

Experiences

The truth of experience lies in change it brings

Yet all experiences change different things

What change might mean for you and for me

Ah, that’s the rub, we must wait and see.

The Grand National Horse Race

Today is the day of the English Grand National

I’m so excited, I can’t be rational

I’ll have a small wager, maybe two

Oh, what the heck, I’ll have a few

If my horse comes in I could win a lot

If several are placed I’ll make a pot

One thing I’d do with a sizable prize

Try out a new sports car, just for size

Then buy a new house, detached of course

Or maybe put my winnings on another horse

After all, once on a winning streak

I can give up work, as soon as next week

Let’s Talk

Come, any who with half a mind

Acknowledge dangers threatening our kind

For to the brink the whole world teeters

Led this time by powerful tweeters

Let’s halt the madness, pause to say

This isn’t a price we’re willing to pay

Don’t threaten, but talk, face to face

Only this can save the human race

An Idea

If you’ve an idea in the middle of the night

Don’t wait until the time seems right

Get up and put your thoughts to action

Before momentum loses traction

For none may have a similar notion

So you must put the wheels in motion

Jot down, at least, what came to mind

Just like this poem, not left behind

Any Cat Can

Sit patiently looking at a closed door

….willing it to open

Curl endearingly in front of an open fire

….daring it to spark

Look witheringly from its bowl to you

…..showing distain for your meagre offering

Scurry frantically from its litter tray

….denying responsibility for the smell

Lie contentedly in your lap ‘til your legs ache

….expecting you to stroke its head

Sleep soundly for most of the day

….allowing you to tidy its house

She’s Gone

2010-07-13-11h52m49 Wispa was our dear grey cat

Until one week ago

Now buried where she often sat

We really miss her so

She lit our lives and made our days

For nearly twenty years

How we laughed at her little ways

Sadly, now, there’s only tears

She was so ill, was fighting for breath

When we called in the local vet

Now, sadly, looking back at her death

Would we have her again? You bet!

A Mystery

0hh Dear

This does seem queer

I am not sure

Is this me here?

Are these words mine?

Or are they not?

When did I pen them?

I’ve quite forgot