Ladybird Lover: Down And Dirty With Gary

Terese is a woman with many a need.
In business she’s well used to taking the lead.
She’s smart and she’s sassy, and she wanted some fun.
But who’d have thought Gary her frolicking one?
An unlikely couple, he’s rough at the edges,
And more used to odd jobs like trimming the hedges
Than getting it on with his boss on the sly,
But when they’re together, oh me and oh my!
The chemistry’s sizzling, Terese is a- glowing.
‘She’s working you too hard!’ cries Sheila,
Not knowing that what she has said
Is a literal truth.
But she’s bound to discover,
Cos Sheila’s a sleuth.
Terese feels so frisky she’s skipping around
And she’s whispered to Susan of the fun she has found.
She’s mentioned a ladybird – what could this mean?
An exciting position I think we might glean.
Well Gary is bubbling with fear and delight
Like a love-struck young schoolboy
On a school disco night,
And Paul’s quietly seething and plotting revenge,
His face hard and angry like a stone at Stonehenge.
Poor Gary had better look over his shoulder,
Cos a Robinson death stare can hit like a boulder.
Will Gary hang on to the bosom of love,
Or will he be ousted with a heavy-man shove?
I’m rooting for Gary, a Canning who can,
He’s tough stuff, Terese’s new ladybird man!

© Carol Ann Wood
October 2016


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Father Jack In The Sack

An illustrated poem to commemorate the de-frocking of Neighbours’ Father Jack – and the durability of Paige’s lipstick and mascara after an unfortunate incident with a hot-air balloon…


If you enjoyed the video, Take a look at this review, Beauty And The Priest: Father Jack and his tortured soul, and this earlier poem, Beauty And The Priest.


Index of Posts:


Links:
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Carol’s football-related blog: Levelling the Playing-Field
NOT Just Saying: Carol’s comments on feminism, fashion, food and folly
Perfect Blend
Neighbours


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Index of Posts:


Links:
About the author
Contact the author
Follow Carol Ann Wood on Twitter
Carol’s football-related blog: Levelling the Playing-Field
NOT Just Saying: Carol’s comments on feminism, fashion, food and folly
Perfect Blend
Neighbours


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Beauty And The Priest

A tall, dark stranger blasted in,
And Paige was duly smitten.
She felt that fate had sent him,
And her future surely written.
But there was just one problem
From the stranger’s point of view.
‘I don’t know who I am!’ he cried.
‘Aw, there’ soothed Paige, ‘bless you.’
So Paige turned sleuth to find out who
‘John Doe’ had been before.
‘I know you’re good inside!’ Paige cooed,
‘And I’m what you’re looking for!’
But John sensed there was something
Telling him that this was wrong.
‘I don’t care who you were!’ cried Paige,
‘My love for you’s so strong!’
And John tried hard to waive his doubts,
As he gazed at Paige’s bod.
One half of him said ‘Go For It!’
And the other said ‘Oh God.’
Then one day John remembered Jack,
Who’s celibate and holy.
As Paige dreamed of a surfer guy,
Or, Hawthorn’s footy goalie.
‘I guessed that you were good!’ she wailed,
‘But not quite as good as this!’
And Jack was deep in torment
As he thought back to their kiss.
Now Sheila’s all a-dither
And quite flustered by this shock.
‘Oh Father! Half this street have sinned,’
She said, ‘They’re quite a flock!’
So, will Paige steal her man from God
And will she win his heart?
The Bible in her crop-top
As she sings ‘How Great Thou Art?’
And will she wear a rosary
But pray for lasting love?
It’s a Thorn Birds situation,
What a story! Lord Above!

© Carol Ann Wood
July 2016


Index of Posts:


Links:
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Carol’s football-related blog: Levelling the Playing-Field
NOT Just Saying: Carol’s comments on feminism, fashion, food and folly
Perfect Blend
Neighbours


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Terese With No H

I’m Terese, with no H, I’m Terese of the street,
And I like to have standards, I’m prissy and neat.
I’m busty and glamorous, businesslike too,
Oh I may not be tall but I’m bigger than you.
I’m Terese with no H, and I’m telling you this:
Something happened to Brad when that tramp stole a kiss.
Yes, I know that she’s lonely now poor Matt is dead,
But my husband has just put his wood in her shed!

I’m Terese with no H, and I’m angry and bitter,
The news of their romping is all over Twitter,
And people are pointing and staring at me,
Cos I’m having a wine and it’s just ten past three.
Well so what if I drink? Hell, I’m having one more,
And it’s clearly what Lassiters wine stash is for.
Look, I know people claimed it was all in my head.
But my husband has just put his wood in her shed!

I’m Terese with no H, and I just have to say
I expected support from our own Susan K,
But she’s laughing with Lauren and chatting with Brad,
So is it such a wonder I’m seething and mad?
And when I ask advice she just thinks I’m obsessed,
As she smiles and says ‘there, get it all off your chest.’
Has she quickly forgotten that feeling of dread
When your husband puts wood in another chick’s shed?

I’m Terese with no H, and I don’t like being scorned,
You wait Lauren Turner, don’t say you weren’t warned.
For hell hath no fury like me when enraged,
You think that you’ve won but you’ll soon be upstaged.
I’m plotting and planning behind that big tree,
You haven’t yet seen the revenge side of me.
Your garden will soon be as bare as your bed,
No Brad in your storeroom, no wood in your shed!

© Carol Ann Wood
October 2015


Index of Posts:


Links:
About the author
Contact the author
Follow Carol Ann Wood on Twitter
Carol’s football-related blog: Levelling the Playing-Field
NOT Just Saying: Carol’s comments on feminism, fashion, food and folly
Perfect Blend
Neighbours


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Biker Girl’s Back

I’m fine now, I’m fine, yes, I’m perfectly well,
I’m back in the street and I’m sure you can tell
I’ve got a reaction from all those around.
They talk, and I’m keeping my ear to the ground.
Well Karl’s face went ashen when he saw me back
With my shiny new bike and my leathers of black.
And Paul was quite freaked and it’s no easy feat
To freak out the sneakiest man in the street.
I went to see Toadie, at least he seemed happy,
But Sonya looked wary and at first pretty snappy.
Who else can I freak by just being about?
They’re fretting and fussing at Steph getting out!
I’m fine now, I’m fine, all I want is a chance,
I promise I won’t get embroiled in romance.
I won’t snatch a baby, I won’t run folk over.
I’m real me again, and my old life is over.
I’m fine now, I’m fine, so don’t get in a tizz,
I’ll e-mail dear Libby and ask how she is,
I’ll bake cakes with Susan, I’ll babysit Nell,
No more misdemeanours and playing merry hell.
I’ll even do housework and go to play Bingo,
I’m sorry, real sorry what happened to Ringo.
Look, trust me, I’m fine now,
I’ve really calmed down.
The reformed Steph Scully, the quiet girl in town!

© Carol Ann Wood
October 2015


Index of Posts:


Links:
About the author
Contact the author
Follow Carol Ann Wood on Twitter
Carol’s football-related blog: Levelling the Playing-Field
NOT Just Saying: Carol’s comments on feminism, fashion, food and folly
Perfect Blend
Neighbours


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