The Bea’s Knees

Bea is with the scheming Finn,
She doesn’t know the mess she’s in.

He’s nasty, evil, full of lies.
And currently in dark disguise.

Sisters are not all the same.
Some are wild and some are tame.

But some things match for Bea and Elly.
Both were fooled by crackpot Kelly.

Both have body parts on show,
In all the clothes they wear, you know.

Elly’s shoulders, always bare,
And now Bea’s knees are seeing the air.

With bits of denim, more of flesh,
She’s ready for an Elly sesh.

Let’s hope these sisters catch Finn out
And reconcile with girly clout.

We need to see them as a force.
With knees and shoulders showing, of course!

© Carol Ann Wood
June 2018


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NOT Just Saying: Carol Anns’s comments on feminism, fashion, food and folly
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Pecs and Sex

Ramsay Street has gone full sex,
Gardens full of well toned pecs.
Bare bums down at Stephy’s spa!
What next? Nude Elly at the bar?

David and his spouse to be
Were in the buff fo all to see!
Bums and torsos everywhere!
Viewers wish that they lived there.

Even Gary’s chef’s attire
This week would set a girl on fire.
And now in Sheila’s backyard roams
A sight more interesting than gnomes.

Dipi’s eyes are filled with glee.
The street’s new Lady Chatterley?
So Cassius, you should be wary.
Erinsborough women can be scary!

Even business-like Terese
Won’t be averse to showing you praise.
So if you mean to stay a while,
You’d best wear more than just a smile.

Or else you’ll thus have sealed your fate:
To be the breakfast on their plate!

© Carol Ann Wood
May 2018


Links:
My bespoke poetry service, Diverse Verse
About the author
Contact the author, or follow this blog
Follow Carol Ann Wood on Twitter
Carol’s football-related blog: Levelling the Playing-Field
NOT Just Saying: Carol Anns’s comments on feminism, fashion, food and folly
Perfect Blend
Neighbours


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Dipi’s Trail Of Destruction

Dipi’s on the warpath,
And we’re trembling in her wake.
Dipi love, step back in line,
Stay calm for goodness sake!

You’ve turned into a footy thug,
An overzealous mum.
Believe me, you must curb your rage,
Or no good will surely come.

You’ve now been told to stay at home
Whenever Yashvi plays,
You really need to heed her words,
Or she’ll end her footy days.

And who will come and buy your cakes
If you’re charged soon with assault?
You’ve no one else to blame for this,
Yes, it was all your fault!

So maybe go to yoga,
Do some quiet meditation,
Or very soon your own dear sis
Will haul you down the Station!

© Carol Ann Wood
April 2018


Links:
My bespoke poetry service, Diverse Verse
About the author
Contact the author, or follow this blog
Follow Carol Ann Wood on Twitter
Carol’s football-related blog: Levelling the Playing-Field
NOT Just Saying: Carol Anns’s comments on feminism, fashion, food and folly
Perfect Blend
Neighbours


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The Return Of Plain Jane Super Brain

It’s been years since the fun days of Scott and Charlene,
And their neighbour, Nell Mangel, the street’s strait-laced queen.
It’s been years since a young girl, all prim, shy and meek
Was taken aside and transformed, from a geek
Into a chic stunner, but now Jane is back.
And she’s snooping around like a self-sleuthing hack!

She’s peeking in cupboards, no longer her own.
She’s making some secretive calls on her phone.
She’s acting quite strange as this story unfurls.
But why has she now gone all ‘twinset and pearls’?
Gone is the glam girl with many a fan.
Oh Jane! We all think you’ve turned into your nan!

You need to go shopping with Dipi and co,
To get back the style that you had long ago.
We love your sweet ways and the way that you care,
But reclaim the girl, for we know she’s still there!
Enough watching serious news on the telly,
Get silly with Sonya; get plastered with Elly!

We know that your nan said to ‘Keep yourself nice’,
But you’ve gone a bit far in obeying her advice!
And what is this mystery searching all for?
A time capsule maybe, or a body in store?
We love that you’re back in our favourite place,
We’re ever so happy to see your sweet face.

We want you to stay and get storylines darker.
A love romp or two, and a spat with Sue Parker!
Come Jane, let your hair down, you’re in a cool ’hood,
And you can be sassy as well as being good!

© Carol Ann Wood
April 2018


Links:
My bespoke poetry service, Diverse Verse
About the author
Contact the author, or follow this blog
Follow Carol Ann Wood on Twitter
Carol’s football-related blog: Levelling the Playing-Field
NOT Just Saying: Carol Anns’s comments on feminism, fashion, food and folly
Perfect Blend
Neighbours


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David Tanaka In Cambridge

Oh please let’s bring David to Cambridge!
He’s really a top, cultured guy.
He’d love all the literature, art and the style,
We can’t let this chance pass us by.
He’d love our Cantabrigian people,
Eclectic and fun as we are.
He could chat about medical matters
In a stylish and upmarket bar.

Imagine the envy of Leo
When he sees all the pics of his twin,
And Paul would be stunned by the art works,
And the venues his son had been in.
Imagine the gifts he could gather
For his Ramsay Street neighbours back home.
For Sheila, there’s only one thing it could be.
A brand new Cantabrigian gnome!

It’s a chance for sweet David to blossom,
And to have some adventures to boot.
For I know of a few handsome locals
Who would think this young doctor quite cute!
Oh if David came over to Cambridge
His loved ones would see with fresh eyes
That David has depths undiscovered,
He’d give all the clan a surprise!

Oh please let’s bring David to Cambridge,
He could punt down the Cam like a pro.
He could cycle this city at sunset,
There are so many places to go!
Oh I’d love to see David in Cambridge,
In the form of Takaya, I mean.
For I’d chat of the Street if we ever did meet,
And we’d star in our own Neighbours scene!

© Carol Ann Wood
March 2018


Links:
My bespoke poetry service, Diverse Verse
About the author
Contact the author, or follow this blog
Follow Carol Ann Wood on Twitter
Carol’s football-related blog: Levelling the Playing-Field
NOT Just Saying: Carol Anns’s comments on feminism, fashion, food and folly
Perfect Blend
Neighbours


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Don’t Get Too Busy, Izzy

Izzy, oh Izzy, so scheming and bad,
She turns Karl to jelly
But makes Susan mad.
Wherever there’s Izzy, then trouble will follow.
Her lies and her half-truths get harder to swallow.
Except for the doctor, who falls for each line.
He promises this time that things will be fine.
But what’s Izzy hiding, and what can it mean?
It always ends badly when she’s on the scene.
It’s never straightforward as Susan oft utters,
A barbecue tool in her hand as she mutters.
I’d watch out for gremlins oh fair Isabelle,
Cos Susan’s revengeful and angry as hell.
You’ve pushed all her buttons, invaded her space.
And Erinsborough’s always a dangerous place!
A car with a ‘brake fail,’ a well shooting or two.
A well to get trapped down – it could happen to you!
A fall from a building, a fire or a drowning.
I wouldn’t get smug as that champagne you’re downing.
For Susan is tough and not naive or dumb.
And the viewers all know that she smothered her mum!

© Carol Ann Wood
February 2018


Links:
My bespoke poetry service, Diverse Verse
About the author
Contact the author, or follow this blog
Follow Carol Ann Wood on Twitter
Carol’s football-related blog: Levelling the Playing-Field
NOT Just Saying: Carol Anns’s comments on feminism, fashion, food and folly
Perfect Blend
Neighbours


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Don’t Go Near The Hot Tub, Clive

Clive, we love your friendly smile,
We love your charming ways.
We love that you and Sheila
Might be set for happy days.
But Can I have a gentle word,
Or love may soon be gone.
Think carefully before you put
Your Budgie Smugglers on.

Don’t go near the hot tub, Clive,
Or things will end in tears.
That hot tub’s been a hot bed
Of disasters down the years.
Illicit frolics, blushes,
And a naked Karl and Suze.
(I’m sure you wouldn’t want
That image fixed, if you could choose!)

So don’t go near the hot tub, Clive,
Stay clear of it, my friend.
Cos it was where the ghastly Hamish
Met a watery end.
Woo Sheila in a restaurant,
Or in a gallery.
Surprise her with a picnic lunch,
Down by the lake, maybe.

Buy flowers from Sonya’s nursery,
She’ll gambol like a lamb.
Propose, perhaps,
(But maybe this time not with child in pram!)
They say that Dipi’s cleansed the tub
With her clever healing skills.
But we, the viewers do not trust
That she’s rid the tub of ills.

If you should find that the lure is strong,
And you’re tempted down that path,
Get sensual oils from the Flame Tree’s stock,
And run a nice hot bath!

© Carol Ann Wood
February 2018


Links:
My bespoke poetry service, Diverse Verse
About the author
Contact the author, or follow this blog
Follow Carol Ann Wood on Twitter
Carol’s football-related blog: Levelling the Playing-Field
NOT Just Saying: Carol Anns’s comments on feminism, fashion, food and folly
Perfect Blend
Neighbours


Index of Posts:


Please note that any advertisements which appear in association with these posts are not indicative of any endorsement by the author. They are placed there by a WordPress algorithm.