Isn’t “fresh” a lovely word?
Invigorates your faith in life
Spices up those sounds unheard
Chases out the cobwebs rife.
Fresh means Spring warmth in the air
Singing in the bath or shower
Putting on shades to stop the glare
Of Summer sun’s impending power.
Fresh is the nip of hunger when
You gaze at fruit and veg before you
Forgetting crappy pesticides, then
Buying twice as much as will do.
Fresh is the cool wind in your hair
Driving your soft-top through the town
Forgetting you’re in England where
Five minutes on, rain’s p*ssing down.
Fresh is the thrill of summer clothes
Worn without more woolly layers
Or given that there’s nothing froze
Also worn without underwears.
Fresh is what your lover calls you
When you tap them on the shoulder
A gleam in your eye, some innuendo
A grope, a kiss, a little bolder.
Fresh is just the kind of word
To convince you, you can do
Anything, even polish a t*rd
Or talk your partner into a scr*w.
Yes, fresh is such a lovely word
Brings new hope and truth inside
Your mind, when life is so absurd
You simply sit on your backside.
If you enjoyed this, there are dozens more humorous poems and music articles right here on #HTWB …
Excerpted from “Mischieverse: rude humour that sort-of rhymes”
by Suzan St Maur
to be published in 2017
by Corona Books UK
© Suzan St Maur 2017