Third Instalment

 

The End

The record player was to hand,
and rather than a Colliery Band
or Male Voice Choir on the spindle,
(and you may think this a swindle)
the 45 played Ballroom Dancing!
Cad and Ada's sprightly prancing
warmed them up and kept them cosy...
And what happened next?

 Well, don't be nosey!

Second Instalment

The Middle

In flowered garments, satin smooth,
my Ada did not try to move
away from my arms' warm embrace,
but settled happily in place
with head beneath my stubbled chin.
"Come in, my dear", she cried, "Come in!

Come, sit you at the kitchen table,
the soup is hot. If you are able
to eat it so...But maybe...we could...
(don't you know...?)
try something which is just as good
at warming up cold hands or heart...
we have been very long apart..."

First Instalment

Wishful Thinking

The Beginning

The halo of the kitchen light
beckoned to me Thursday night,
I strode towards my lady love.
Could we join like hand in glove
and finally come to erase
the past few warring, lonely days?

I knocked - the door sprung wide-
and casting every doubt aside
my arms reached out with glee.
But what is this? A vision? She
who stands before my eyes
is radiant. What a surprise!

Her shopping trip was worth the while,
her transformation made me smile.
Here again was my sweet Ada,
not one who, before, had made a
lemon appear sweet! This siren
might have inspired Byron!

For a recap on the story so far, you may need to go HERE

No More Mr Nice Guy

Never mind about tomorrow lunch time!!! Enough is enough, my little Stingray. Haddock has no wish to turn into a frozen fish finger overnight, and the barometer is falling. Snow is on the way. I need a helping  of your hot soup NOW, if my extremities are to remain intact, for the left over pizza I had for lunch did nothing to improve either my temper, or my temperature. I shall be knocking and entering by the back door in approximately  five minutes, so get that soup on the hob pretty damn quick...

Solution To The Saxophone Problem

Please note Ada,  I have donated my instrument to a worthy cause! I will never play another note on it. This shows where it is now.
So farewell wind instrument...

and hello silence!

Late Edition Extra...Silence which has now been broken by the dulcet tones of my beloved! I've been TOOTED! And she's bought me a new hat, apparently, though I have yet to be presented with it.

Wonders will never cease!

 

I hope she remembered it needs to fit my 23 1/2" head...

Another Plea To Ada

Empty is my cup; its tarnished face
rebukes me. When did it drain dry of love?
The heady wine of passion will not slake
a thirst which longs for tenderest embrace
from loving arms. A hand in velvet glove
could lead me where it willed, and I'd forsake
all other paths. I call upon your grace
of spirit, hoping it may rise above
recriminations  for my past mistakes.

I have to thank Magpie Tales for providing a picture which had exactly the right emotional feel for my latest outpouring to my Beloved.

Strictly Not For Kiddywinks

Another Monday's Child prompt tempted me to add this piece of naughtiness in my ongoing attempt to woo my lady love. See HERE for stage one, or HERE for stage two, or if you need further clarification, see Ada.

Ada the Queen of my heart -
this little Welsh Dragon upstart
is starting to pine.
O, won't you be mine?
Love,
Cad
the silly old f**t.

P.S. don't miss the previous one of today's posts ! It shows my thoughtful side much better than this tarradiddle.
Here's the link for you.

Poems For Ada

Life was one long hand-hold

In the Springtime of our life together
we had time to talk and exchange thoughts.
But fate, which falls the same for many people,
soon forced another path, one often fraught
with accusations, discontent and tears.
We ourselves destroyed the peace we sought.
Now, through conscious change, may we not take
a better heed of lessons life has taught? 

But things changed.

Time to start again.

I would shower you with fragrant petals,
serenade you underneath the moon,
if you would condescend to smile upon me,
and forgive the paltry efforts of a goon
who'll try his best to win back your affection.
I hope that you will give your answer soon;
I'd like to wind time back to our beginning...
May I suggest a second honeymoon? 

Message To My Beloved Part 2

Perhaps you would have understood better, my dearest, if I had posted this version of the song I was trying to serenade you with - no scantily clad pouters in sight. But I must say the Golden Lady with the dark hair in the first version bears more than a passing resemblance to your good self in the days of your youth, don't you agree?

Having survived the night here in the potting shed,  I now present you with my adaptation of verses for you to sing as you play your guitar, accompanied by my banjo.


Song For Ada

"Rock me, Mama like a waggon wheel,
rock me Mama any way you feel "-
I'm your Caddoc and sure, I'm real!
Oh Mama!
(plinka-plinka-plink-plink)

Dig my potatoes and trim my leeks -
be the perfect lady love that I seek.
You can pluck my banjo any day of the week
Oh Mama!
(winka-winka-wink-wink)

Let's forget the warring and call a truce-
trip the light fantastic 'til we both turn puce
and need to drink a gallon of orange juice.
Oh Mama!
(drinka-drinka-drink-drink)

Sorry the YouTube clip seems to begin at a strange place, but click to play anyway...The words are fine as long as you ignore the spelling mistakes!

Message To My Beloved

If you want to meet the lady in question, pop over to  HERE - but be prepared for a surprise, perhaps...

Confession Time?

The Hour Approaches

I hide behind my trellis with alarm.
The witch's dust may signify my end
and force me to admit the truth I hid -
she is is my best and truest lifelong friend.

Beneath her outer shell there beats a heart
as soft as any pink and white marshmallow,
which, once toasted to perfection by my fire,
could melt the very core of this poor fellow

who stands before you. Hapless in my shed
I while away the hours by chasing dreams
of how to pave the cobblestones with gold
to lead us to a better life. It seems

the longed for time may come upon us soon,
when both will be content to work as one,
though love, not magic, will  provide the cure...
Perchance our fighting days are almost done?

To understand what is going on, it might help if you were to visit HERE first! Then you need to realise all these moments in time were sparked by Willow's Magpie Tales prompt this week. If you are still puzzled - then Gesundheit!

Times Are Gettin' Hard, Boys...

So I've started thinking about alternative Christmas Goodies. How about these for tasty Festive treats?

Method.

After whacking, skin carefully, dip in egg and breadcrumbs, and fry in butter until golden brown. The tails make perfect pick-up points, as they remain relatively cool at all times.They may be decorated with red or green ribbons, to add to the Seasonal Jollity.

Mind you, you will need strong teeth to masticate these bony morsels to a consistency where swallowing is possible. Their bones are somewhat tougher than sardines or pilchards...

N.B. Nobody in their right mind is expected follow this recipe...

Kiddywinks Korner?

Not in my shed. But this picture prompt I saw on Dr FTSE's blog got me thinking.

WARNING-  

Children and animal welfare exponents READ NO FURTHER!

Rat Man Rant

Mice aren't nice.

They gnaw.

What's more,

they're twice

as quick

as my stick.

But in my shed,

I like them DEAD.

Poison pellets

in shallots

might work.

But why shirk

the death blow?

POW!

Splat!

That's that. 

I believe thanks are due to BKM at Monday's Child  and Phoebe Ericson, who drew the original way back in 1947 . Both would no doubt be scandalised at my interpretation...

Now Look At Me

Do you wonder, after Life With Ada, that I have become a crumpled wreck? For her latest Cad knock, she has crept into my shed and made shards of my special pots! Their broken parts carpet the bench where I had them neatly stacked and some have been ground into the shag pile rug I rescued from a tip. I said my shed had hidden depths. Shag pile, leather recliner, blackout curtains - oh yes, they're all there in my Home From Home corner...
I can see I shall have to go to B&Q today to replace my pots. Thinks, should I next replace potty Ada?

Once I was Handsome

...plus 'E'!  As edited later, thanks to Dr FTSE
Look at me! Once upon a time...

I told you my shed was like the Tardis. It managed to hide this photo for years, underneath a bag of Growmore. So, now it has surfaced, I can let you see me back in my glory days...

Don't all swoon ladies, but if you bump into Ada, do tell her what she's been missing for all these years?

Wishful Thinking

If only...

Ada, as usual, sat there unsmiling.
Despite the harsh treatment
and relentless grilling
her man remained true.
But this was thrilling -
she knew what to do!
Open her heart,
her legs and her arms
and welcome her husband
with all of her charms!
Why had she spent long years
frigid and cold,
when the warmth she had longed for
could be hers to hold?

"To have and to hold"-
was that not the vow?
She pulled out her mobile
gave Caddoc a call.
"Come to the shed now -
I will reveal all!"

It was dark in the potting shed,
until the moon
lit up the wheelbarrow-
made Ada swoon
as she realised Caddoc was
eager and willing,
as he stood in the doorway
where moonlight was spilling...



My imagination was incapable of proceeding beyond this point- possibly just as well. But if anyone knows of a potent love potion that would make my Beloved act in the manner heretofore mentioned, please tell me how to acquire same? I am getting desperate, you can tell...

There's A First Time For Everything

And this is mine! I have been relegated to my garden shed once too often and today the worm has turned. I have dug deep into something other than garden soil, and am planting seeds of rebellion. No longer will I be the silent partner, even though the ears who listen to me will not be the ones I most wish to whisper into. Ah, Ada my Ada, after forty years you still remain the light of my life, but you have drawn the blinds down in your mind, and your brilliance eludes me.
The World of Blog will be my confessor, and and my salvation. It's better than talking to myself.