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Hello and welcome to my blog.

My I haven’t posted a regular blog post in a while, but I’ve been busy with increasing my visibility on Social Media, and have been working on some Poetry commissions. But I am aware that a blog is only as good as its content and if I don’t write enough, then I’ve only got my self to blame.

But here I am back at the computer, with a blog to write. So let’s get to it.

I’m going to start on a serious note. I recently had a test for the initial signs of what could be Prostate Cancer. Now don’t worry – I’m not saying that I have Prostate Cancer, but there were offering a free blood test the results of which might indicate something going on with my prostate that should be investigated further. Men over the age of 45 are encouraged to get their prostate checks as about thousands of men die each year from Prostate cancer.

So, if you are a man over 45, or if you know one – get them to have the test. You can find more information about the test I took (not pictures of me) here: https://www.cancer.org/cancer/prostate-cancer/early-detection/tests.html

So, I’ve returned to the pool!

Regular readers of my blog will recall a series of blog posts a few months back about my return to swimming lessons. For those of you unfamiliar with those posts, I had decided to take up swimming lessons – not because I couldn’t swim, but rather to improve my swimming technique, improve my confidence out of my depth, and to improve my fitness. I had started lessons in about April of this year, but had decided to quit due to financial constraints. Of all the things I couldn’t afford to pay for, flailing about in a panic in front of strangers, wasn’t one of them. Quitting was a hard decision to make because I was making progress in my technique – but was struggling to  get to grips with my breathing whilst swimming. Just before the summer holidays I had my final lesson, and came away feeling quite disappointed.

But then, the summer holiday’s happened. I went to Florida with my family and had an amazing time. I managed to get myself sorted out to some degree financially, and made some other improvements in my life. I decided that I was enjoying my swimming (in a ‘dear god I’m going to drown’ kind of enjoyment way), and it would be shame to lose all I had learnt. Whilst on holiday, I had spent everyday in the pool – not swimming seriously, just messing around and stuff, and forgot all about the strain I had put myself when having those lessons.

So, last weekend I returned to the pool – not having lessons (they start after half term), but the main teacher Maria allowed me to just swim in the pool while my daughter had a lesson.

Well, what a difference. For some reason, many aspects that I had struggled with before, just washed away as soon as I got in the water. Either that, or I hadn’t showered in ages. But seriously, things just clicked: my breathing whilst swimming was much improved, and I was much more confident in the water. Maria commented on how much better I was swimming, and we spoke about how different it was to before. Maria said that in some adults, just time away from lessons or in-between lessons is when they really ‘get’ what they have been taught, rather than during their lesson in the pool. And this is definitely what I think has happened to me.

Inspired, empowered, inflamed, engaged, and several other ‘in’ and ‘en’ words (but not ineffectual, or engorged) later, I today returned to the pool for more swimming. My swimming is nowhere near perfect: I’m not kicking with straight legs, I don’t have scooped hands to push the water behind me, and I’m not rotating my body enough as I change stroke arm. I’m also still not breathing as I should. But from where I left swimming before the summer, I’ve made big improvements. I was able to swim about 8 lengths of the 25m pool in the 30 minute session today. It’s incredibly tiring, and a lack of technique in hindering my efficiency in the water. Plus, I’m a 47-year-old man who doesn’t exercise enough generally and likes beer and chocolate too much.

But, I have made improvements, and I’m looking forward to returning to lessons with a strong foundation to build on.

I’ll keep you posted on how things go 🙂

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Hello, and welcome to this week’s Friday Poem!

A few months ago I wrote a poem called “A Cautionary Tale”. If you are unfamiliar with it, you can see it HERE

The poem, and indeed the one you are about to read are written in my attempt at the style of a poet called Hilaire Belloc, who was an Anglo-French writer who wrote many things including a book titled, ‘Cautionary Tales for Children’. I really enjoyed reading that book, and was inspired to write the first Cautionary Tale poem, and now this one.

This poem, like it’s predecessor, comes with a morale warning.

(sort of)

I hope you like it.

 

Another Cautionary Tale

 

Here is a warning all should heed:

Nothing good ever came from greed.

Herein lies a tale of a boy and a fairy,

And how you should avoid the unnecessary.

 

Young Jacob was a normal boy

He rode his bike; he played with toys.

He lived his life, like any youth –

That is, until his wobbly tooth.

 

Previously in a story Jacob had read,

“When that tooth falls out of your head,

Put it under your pillow, and go to sleep

In the morning you’ll find a gift to keep”

 

The story explained (in ways not scary)

To Jacob everything about the Tooth Fairy.

And how teeth for money would be exchanged.

Then suddenly something in Jacob’s mind changed…

 

By nightfall, Jacob’s tooth was freed

After considerable wiggling at high-speed.

Placed under pillow as tale had said,

Secured by Jacob’s sleeping head.

 

Next morning Jacob woke and found,

Where once was tooth, was now two pounds

In a single coin, which gleamed and shimmered

And in Jacob’s mind a lightbulb glimmered.

 

That very day, said coin was spent;

(A fate wild horses could not prevent)

Of what Jacob bought, there is no proof,

But at bedtime, there appeared another tooth.

 

The Fairy came and did her job;

She did not care about his gob.

If teeth are left, she has to take them,

Them’s the rules – she didn’t make ‘em.

 

Obsessed with this money-making scheme,

The fact the his remaining teeth were pristine

Never entered young Jacobs head

Who focused on removal instead.

 

String tied to tooth and then to door

Was very efficient – if a little sore,

Chewing bricks was not as nice

And fragments of teeth bought a lower price.

 

String was then tied to car tyres

A hammer used, and then some pliers

Ignoring the pain and bleeding gums

All Jacob saw was increased funds.

 

Now, you may be wondering (and you’d be right)

Where Jacob’s parents were in all this plight.

Alas, they were an ineffectual pair

Slave to the television at which they stared.

 

The knew not (or cared) if Jacob washed

As the sofa cushions they both squashed

Tv watching, shoving food in their face

Giving Jacob free reign of the place.

 

So Jacob continued, unabashed

His mouth in tatters, sore and gashed.

Each day – as if you would have doubt,

Another tooth was soon pulled out.

 

But people are not blessed like crocodiles

With hundreds of teeth to fill their smile.

His supply of teeth could not last forever,

And so ultimately ended Jacob’s endeavour.

 

In truth he had amassed a tidy sum

From the former inhabitants of his gums.

But having removed them all by force,

He had no more to sell of course.

 

Being young, and with emotions in flux

Jacob realised his situation (like him) just sucked.

He complained loudly to his parents – alas! Alack!

Who saw his mouth, and had a heart attack.

 

Young Jacob was in a right to-do

Having lost not just one parent – but two.

He looked down upon them lying there, dead.

Then saw the teeth still in their heads.

 

He was caught of course – eventually

But not for a good month or three.

By which time his grisly work was done

And his parents smiles were now bare gums.

 

Jacob was sentenced, and locked away

Never again to see the light of day.

His acts were truly so revolting

Which is why the virtue of greed I am not exalting.

 

So hear my warning, read the facts.

Greed can lead you to awful acts.

While the Tooth Fairy will happily buy a tooth or two,

You might bite off more than you can chew.

 

If you like this poem, You might also be interested to know that my book, ‘The Friday Poems – Volume One’ is now available to buy. This book contains all the Friday poems posted on my blog in 2017. You can get it from Amazon.com, wherever you are – in the UK from Amazon.co.uk in paperback by clicking here: http://amzn.eu/2tOvhA6 , or for Kindle by clicking here: http://amzn.eu/hbDIMdU

You can also find W is for Duck on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter – feel free to drop by and say hi!

I welcome your thoughts and feedback on my poems and indeed my blog, so do please get in touch!

Until next time…..

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I was commissioned to write a poem for a father’s 60th Birthday.

I had an initial meeting with his wife and daughter, who gave me an outline of what they wanted, and we discussed the style and agreed a price. Following that meeting we communicated via email, with me sending drafts of what I had written based on a raft of information supplied to me about the man: his working life, what he did to relax, his passions, plus family memories of him including holidays etc. I would then receive feedback – change a word, or a sentence, or re-phrase something.

Below is the final version of the poem that was accepted and read to the man on his Birthday. When I later asked his daughter how it went down, she simply said “he welled up”.

And that is what it is all about – giving a gift to someone that is unique, and truly special that they will be moved by.

 

Simon Poem

 

Dear Simon – or would you like Lenny?

Or as your mum’s here, we could call you Fred.

I would ask the guests present to say what they call you,

But some things are better not said!

So you’ve reached the grand age of 60;

We gathered here to celebrate today.

We asked a few folk for their thoughts about you,

And this is what they had to say:

 

For starters, you’re a bloody hard worker:

From the success of your business you can tell.

But it hasn’t always been plain sailing –

The whole tree/ancient bridge thing didn’t go well.

You’re not one to suffer fools lightly,

So working in an office isn’t for you.

The patience you’d need wouldn’t come easy,

And you might spot a Dimlo or two.

 

It has been said that with age, you’re a bit grumpier:

On occasion, you’re a grumpy old git.

But maybe it’s not you, it’s just everyone else

Who just doesn’t seem to get it!

Which is why, when you talk you’re so animated

In discussions, your hands get a life of their own,

Especially when demonstrating a universal hand sign,

And assuming that the sign is well known!

 

You’ve always enjoyed a nice holiday

(I’ll gloss over the recent one quick –

Went to Florida along with your family in tow

And spent the whole time in Hospital, sick.

Mind you, you have got a bit of previous here,

With other trips Florida was on par.

Remember that family holiday to France?

The one where we all had to sleep in the car?

Sleeping in our car on the side of the motorway,

I’m sure there were better places to go?

And if you’d slept in a hotel like regular folk

That homeless guy couldn’t have stared through the window!

All in all though, our holidays have been awesome;

We’ve always had loads of fun.

But it might be nice, just for a change

If we had one without trauma for once?

 

Now, one thing you are passionate about is sport:

Either watching it, or yourself having a go.

Some people said you can get a bit competitive

(Which is where Ami get its from, for those who don’t know)

You’re a huge fan of surfing, and always have been –

It’s rumoured you only employ surfers too.

This is fine – although the risk of distraction

Could make the work life balance go askew.

Steve shares this passion with you,

And could surf all day easily without a care

Sadly, Ami and Jeanette do not feel the same

As they don’t like getting wet hair.

 

You also like going to watch the rugby

Up at Twickenham, for the Army vs Navy game

Going with mates – which means plenty of drinking

But of course, watching Rugby’s the real aim.

You also watched Steve playing football

For Yeovil FC’s under 21 side

You went to see him at every game

Which must have given you huge amounts of pride.

Well, I say every game – there was this one time

Where you got a little frustrated it seemed

And got so vocal in letting your feelings known

That you were removed by Yeovil’s management team.

 

You have also been supportive of Ami

Who since small, has had a love of Horses so strong,

Backing her when she said she wanted to ride for a living,

Even though you knew those choices were wrong.

You’ve also combined sport with fund raising activity:

The London Marathon, and cycling France too.

All this to raise money for Help for Heroes,

A cause that means a great deal to you.

 

Let’s talk about food for a minute;

Like us all, it’s the finer things in life that you like.

But not Rocket – oh no mate, not Rocket at all –

You can take Rocket – and get on your bike!

So perhaps then you could explain about the Pizza,

The one you ordered – with the Rocket on top?

And that poor waitress who just had to stand there

While you kicked off and had a big strop.

After she had stood there and patiently listened to you

Go on about the Pizza – the one that you chose,

You developed an allergy, so she had to take it away

One of those short term, intense allergies I suppose….?

 

(Optional Verses)

 

Now before we go any further

The is one thing of our guests I must ask:

Whilst all of you here are most welcome,

Please do keep yourselves off the grass.

Simon’s only just had the lawn put down,

And if it get’s damaged he might just lose his mind.

He has stated that there could financial implications,

Saying “Any lawn damaging dimlo’s will get fined!”

So I ask that all of you present,

Join me in raising a glass

To Simon on his 60^th Birthday

And just keep off the bloody grass!!

 

If you would like to discuss commissioning a poem for someone or a special occasion , then get in touch by emailing wisforduck@outlook.com.

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Hello, and welcome to this week’s Friday poem.

The world is a divided place: The Middle East, North/South Korea, Brexit, Donald Trump, Immigration, Ear Piercing for under 5’s, Marmite, doing the “Floss” dance – everywhere you look, there’s an issue that splits opinion.

Tonight’s poem is one such contentious issue. I asked a very lovely friend of mine to suggest the subject of this week’s poem, and she came up with the title you see above you. She herself is a self-confessed fan of this, so a reference to her does appear in the poem below. I’ll let you decide which bit is her.

I like eating in bed – but only toast and coffee in the morning. I can’t remember eating anything significant in bed – like spaghetti Bolognese or casserole for example – but only because I never considered it. Perhaps I’ve been missing out on something and should start taking all my meals in bed? I’ll ask my Fiancée and let you uknow.

If you don’t hear from me ever again, the answer was “no”.

So, where do you stand on eating in bed? Let me know your thoughts and justification by leaving a comment below. If you are a fan, tell me what the best thing you ever ate in bed was.

And so, here is this weeks poem.

I hope you like it.

EATING IN BED

How do you feel about eating in bed?

(That’s not a proposal – it’s a question)

Does the image of crumbs being stuck to your bum

Float your boat, or fill you with revulsion?

 

Do you favour a munch or a nibble,

With the duvet tucked under your chin?

Do you feel really cheeky, when you have some Tzatziki

With a couple of breadsticks thrown in?

 

Should eating be confined to the Kitchen,

Or the dining room – or your lap at a push?

Does eating in bed, make you go bright red

At the thought of shoving food in your mush?

 

Is your favourite in bed Strawberry cheesecake?

All contained in its own little pot.

Do you feel like a kid, when you lick the lid?

(If you knew where its been, you might not!)

 

There are some folk who might go even further,

Having Kebab, with a few cheesy chips.

If the roll in their sleep, with their chips in a heap

They could literally go straight to their hips.

 

You see, such pleasures are not without warning;

For all things there’s a time and a place.

A pizza at night, might seem a bit of alright

But you shouldn’t wake with it stuck to your face.

 

No one likes cheese in their cleavage,

Or their dangly bits in Hoi Sin sauce.

I’d be surprised, if folk liked gravy-soaked thighs –

Unless, that’s what you’re into of course.

 

The debate about this could be endless:

Valid points that we need to explain.

What we each do in bed, is better not said,

Just be mindful of those tell-tale stains!

 

If you like this poem, You might also be interested to know that my book, ‘The Friday Poems – Volume One’ is now available to buy. This book contains all the Friday poems posted on my blog in 2017. You can get it from Amazon.com, wherever you are – in the UK from Amazon.co.uk in paperback by clicking here: http://amzn.eu/2tOvhA6 , or for Kindle by clicking here: http://amzn.eu/hbDIMdU

You can also find W is for Duck on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter – feel free to drop by and say hi!

I welcome your thoughts and feedback on my poems and indeed my blog, so do please get in touch!

Until next time…..

Wedding Poem

I was honoured to be asked by a work colleague to write a poem for her and her Fiance for their wedding.

They sent me brief details of how they met and their lives together so far – including bits about their interests, and moving in together.

I took what I was given, and came up with the following poem:

 

Like all stories, Kate and Jon’s tale has a beginning;

Theirs starts in Worth Matravers – where Corinne West was singing.

Jon caught Kate’s eye when he told folk to ‘F-Off’ – quite daring!

She then invited her parents to join them (they avoided the swearing).

It’s Marc’s fault Kate was there – he’s from San Francisco:

He suggested that Kate on that date shall go.

And thank God he did, for Kate and Jon soon got talking,

About a mutual love of cycling (so much better than walking!)

A few dates were arranged – live bands and the flicks

Jon teaches computer animation, so knows all the tricks.

At Jungle Book Jon explained how they animated beasts and birds,

While Kate belted out the songs – she knows all the words!

After one year together they decided to cohabitate,

Kate moved in and became Jon’s permanent flatmate!

A 2nd floor flat meant carrying bikes up and down stairs,

But Kate built up such strength, she could carry bikes in pairs!

Jon’s friends say that it must have been love at first sight,

Because Kate has permanent loan of Jon’s two most treasured bikes!

Jon and Kate have just purchased a three bedroom house:

One bedroom for them, one for guests, and one for the bikes no doubt.

They still cycle often – and run, and swim in the sea,

Though most journey’s end in the pub for one (two, or three!)

They also go camping – always a good time well spent

Though they just take their bivvy bags – and do away with a tent!?!

When Kate marries Jon she’ll become Mrs Macey;

Nothing funny in that – it’s not silly or racey.

I wouldn’t insult Kate – less she get angry and go ‘Grrr!’

Which both Jon and Kate’s dad have heard first hand from her.

There were doubts that a rhyme for ‘Grr’ could be found in this poem,

But there’s always a way – if you’re patient and know ’em.

So that’s Kate and Jon’s story – and there’s no need to explain

Why they’re in love with each other, and have formed their own chain

Which drives the wheels of their love bike – an amazing two seater,

So here’s to a lifetime of cycling – nothing else could be sweeter.

 

BALL

Hello, and welcome to this week’s Friday Poem.

It’s been a busy week here at W is for Duck; I recently finished three poetry commissions (which you will soon be able to read on the ‘Poetry Commissions’ page of this blog), and next week I am off to a local Rotarian club to be their guest speaker, and read a few of my poems plus one written especially for them. I’m really looking forward to it, as it gives me more exposure and get’s my name out there in the real world.

I’ve also researched more open mic events that I can go to. There’s actually quite a few dotted around my locality, and it will be good to take my craft on the road again. I’ve also made initial enquiries with a few festivals about how to apply to appear in them, and I await feedback/responses.

With all that going on, it’s not surprising then that this week’s Friday poem only came to life yesterday. I had struggled for days for a subject to write about, and although I had sought suggestions from friends and workmates, none of their suggestions grabbed me for this week’s offering. However, I now have plenty of suggestions for future poems.

Not much else to say about this poem, except that it is a nice little story.

I hope you like it.

 

 

A rubber ball – quite small and red,

Looked out the window, and then said

“I wonder what’s in the world out there?”

Then sighed, and continued to sit and stare.

 

Now, such ponderings usually lead to naught

Like most wishes, dreams and thoughts.

But this ball’s thought did not escape,

And was, instead, captured by fate.

 

Fate looked down on ball, and with a smile

Said to himself, “well, it’s been a while”

Then quietly opened the front door

And gently pushed ball to the floor.

 

Ball bounced – surprised (but not surprising)

And with the falling and the rising

It saw the front door open wide

And duly bounced through to the outside.

 

With every bounce that ball now took

It did not know where first to look

The world greeted ball in the open air

And Ball needed eyes everywhere!

 

Still in motion, Ball saw trees

But not knowing that, thought “what are these?”

Then street, roads, houses, people, cars

That stretched into the distance far.

 

By now ball had reached the garden gate,

But did not falter nor hesitate,

Drawn towards the world it wanted to meet,

Ball bounced over the gate and into the street.

 

Unfortunately, Ball didn’t know left or right

And could not turn, try as it might.

So, still with a bounce that had not slowed

Ball went forward………….. into the road.

 

Dashing into the road is not advised,

Especially if you want to stay alive.

Luckily, being made of Rubber, Ball just said “oof!”

When the speeding car bounced him off its roof.

 

Ball was flung high in to the air,

Which gave a brief view of EVERYWHERE

And subsequent bounces revealed the same

Which Ball thought was a marvellous game.

 

The game stopped abruptly in the park

When, with the sound of an excited bark

Ball was caught in the slobbering jaws

Of a small stray dog with filthy paws.

 

Ball was confused, and didn’t know why

The world was quite now rushing by.

Ball felt the dog’s breath, and the dribble of spit

And wasn’t quite sure he was enjoying it.

 

The dog rushed on – then suddenly stopped

Outside the butcher’s – so Ball was dropped.

Slowly, from the butcher’s, ball started to roll away

Where voices now cried “oi!”, and “hey!”

 

The street was sloped, so speed increased;

Ball zipped and zoomed past legs and feet.

The dog briefly reappeared by Ball’s side

With sausages in mouth – and a look of pride.

 

Then dog was gone, and Ball was not;

He was not certain how he might stop

Some folk gasped, and made a fuss

When Ball shot straight into a Bus.

 

At the bottom of the hill was a Bus queue

With people waiting for the number 22.

The Bus was there as peopled boarded:

Ball joined – in the fastest time recorded!

 

With passengers packed in like sardines

The bus resembled a pinball machine:

Ball ricocheted and bounced off heads

Then hit a granny catching zeds…zzzz.zzzzz

 

Ball shot up and hit the ceiling

Granny snored, asleep: unfeeling.

Ball landed in her bag and stopped

Then Granny’s false teeth fell out – plop!

 

Ball was safe in Granny’s bag

Nestled between a prescription and twenty fags

An orange, and a ball of wool

Which Ball thought was really cool

 

The bus went on, Ball looked around

He saw the sights, he heard the sounds:

A glimpse of the world he never knew

From the passengers of bus number 22.

 

The Bus slowed down, and with a cough

Granny woke, got up, and then got off.

Oustide, she set her bag down on the street

Which toppled over – and Ball was free.

 

But not for long, for as fate had planned

Ball was picked up by familiar hands.

You see, in spite of how far Ball had roamed

Fate made sure that Ball got back home.

 

Once back (and cleaned and thoroughly dried)

Ball found his place and looked outside.

Glad that some of the world he had known

Ball was also happy to be back home.

 

If you like this poem, You might also be interested to know that my book, ‘The Friday Poems – Volume One’ is now available to buy. This book contains all the Friday poems posted on my blog in 2017. You can get it from Amazon.com, wherever you are – in the UK from Amazon.co.uk in paperback by clicking here: http://amzn.eu/2tOvhA6 , or for Kindle by clicking here: http://amzn.eu/hbDIMdU

I welcome your thoughts and feedback on my poems and indeed my blog, so do please get in touch!

 

 

Cane Muto

 

Hello! And welcome to this week’s Friday Poem.

As regular readers of my poems/blog posts will know, inspiration comes to me without warning, and the inspiration for this poem is no different. The idea for this poem came to me in a one-line thought that ran a red light and ploughed into my brain as I drove home on Monday this week. Monday was my first day back at work after a wonderful three week break from work, which included two weeks in Florida (details of which can be found in my blog posts “The Great American Adventure” parts 1, 2 etc. Driving home I was exhausted, which could explain why such a random thought found its way into my head. And what was that thought?

It was: “What if you had a dog that made no noise?”

And that was it; the following poem – or at least a random selection of words and the occasional rhyme that would evolve into the following poem – started to take shape. And as for the title above, “cane muto”? It’s Latin for ‘Silent Dog’. I know it’s pretentious (very up my own arse), but that wasn’t the intention: I just didn’t have a title worked out.

Honest!

Here is the poem. I hope you like it.

I had a dog that didn’t bark;

Made no noise when at the park.

Silently scratched at fleas and ticks,

And reticently ate his sick.

 

My dog was silent – made no sound,

Which I think is odd, for a hound.

His silence left me quite perplexed

And so, I took him to the vets.

 

His vocal chords were fully intact;

But that, of course did not detract

From the existence of undeniable truth,

That my dog would never say, “Woof”.

 

The vet was stumped, (the dog non-plussed)

At why this animal was so hushed.

He checked, and checked – and checked again

But physically, dog was right as rain.

 

So, we lived together, silently.

(Well – one-way conversations, obviously.)

For my part, I kept up my side

But my pet remained sound deprived.

 

Our relationship became quite eerie;

I could never tell when he was near me.

A lack of sound made me forget my pet

Until I tripped over him and almost broke my neck.

 

I’d wake – and find him standing there,

Right by my face, with silent stare.

At night, he’d lie in the living room

Quiet as a canine tomb.

 

Even his breathing could not be heard,

But the smell was dead something mixed with turds.

I’d get frustrated; yell, and aim a boot

Which he would dodge – noiseless, mute.

 

He never whined, for food or bone

Or yelped excitedly when I got home.

No growling, when he saw a cat

No barking at our Postman – Pat.

 

For reasons unknown, or just sublime

The fates made my poor dog a mime.

And though I tried to love that pup,

I knew I had to give him up.

 

The reason for his silence? I know not why;

I dare not guess – I would not try.

However trivial or profound,

Something stole my doggie’s sound.

 

A new home was found, and I said goodbye;

I’m not ashamed to say I cried.

I was heart-broken at our parting:

I would give anything to even hear him farting.

 

If you like this poem, You might also be interested to know that my book, ‘The Friday Poems – Volume One’ is now available to buy. This book contains all the Friday poems posted on my blog in 2017. You can get it from Amazon.com, wherever you are – in the UK from Amazon.co.uk in paperback by clicking here: http://amzn.eu/2tOvhA6 , or for Kindle by clicking here: http://amzn.eu/hbDIMdU.

I do offer a bespoke poem writing service. I write poems for birthdays, anniversaries, weddings, any occasion. All enquiries are free and without obligation. If you would like to make an enquiry, get in touch using the contact form on the “About Me” page of this blog, or email me at wisforduck@outlook.com .

You can also find W is for Duck on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter – feel free to drop by and say hi!

I welcome your thoughts and feedback on my poems and indeed my blog, so do please get in touch!

Until next time…..

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Hello, and welcome to W is for Duck.

Herein lies part two of my blog about my family’s recent holiday to Florida in the USA. If you haven’t read part one, please feel free to do so – a link to it should be just to the right of this blog post.

So, where did we get to? Ahh, yes – we had arrived at our hotel. Allow me to continue…….

Our hotel was the WorldQuest Orlando Resort – built in a Mediterranean style, with several blocks of accommodation around a central swimming pool. When we checked in we were asked if we wanted to be near the pool (erm…. YES!) and if we had a preference for which floor we were on. I asked for a top floor apartment – which was a good thing because we got good views of the sunrise in the morning. Our apartment was room 503 in the 2^nd building. We were given key cards for the door, each card having a character from Toy Story on it by way of advertising the fact that the Hotel sold tickets to the various Disney Parks. Our apartment was spacious, and nicely furnished. My fiancée and I had the master bedroom, with a huge bed and a bathroom big enough to play baseball in. The bathroom had a shower and a jacuzzi bath in it, and two sinks – very swish! The kids were sharing a twin room and had a bathroom right next door. Of course, there was air-conditioning which was most welcome anytime after going outside into the Florida heat.

We were self-catering, and our apartment had a little kitchen area with a big fridge and some confusing appliances; There was a big microwave above the cooker – big enough to put a child in, according to my daughter – that was made by Whirlpool (they make Washing Machines here in the UK), and a coffee percolator that was made by Black & Decker (power tool manufacturer here). I was surprised to see these brand names on appliances you wouldn’t naturally think of being made by them. A few days later we bought a Pizza that was made by Nestle, so I had no idea what was going on. We did discover a few other oddities: No kettle (the Americans don’t make Tea like the English do, and obviously drink more coffee), so I had to boil a pan of water to make a cup of tea. There was no baking tray provided, so we had to buy our own to cook some of the meals we had bought. And there were only four knives in the cutlery drawer, and four big spoons – but about twelve forks. However, these ‘quirks’ were nothing we couldn’t overcome, after all we are British and built an empire based on a cunning use of flags (Eddie Izzard: Do You Have a Flag?), so a lack of knives was nothing to worry about.

The first thing we did when we got into our apartment was to dig out the swimming costumes and swim shorts and rush down to the pool. We were hot and tired after our long journey, and a dip in the pool was just perfect. The stress just slipped off me as I lay in the water – although it could have been sun cream. We luxuriated in the pool for a while and then decided that we should buy some provisions for a meal that evening, and breakfast in the morning. It was about 5pm US time when we arrived at the hotel, so a meal time was imminent. The hotel had a little shop in it – a shop that sold stuff at ridiculous prices!! We bought some snacks for an evening meal, plus milk, juice and cereal for the morning – and it came to around $75!! But I guess they know that people in our situation will have no choice – but man…….

Sunday was our first full day in Florida – and we decided to go and get some food shopping and visit the Mall. We hit the mall first, which included a visit to the American Girl Doll store where my Daughter spent all her holiday spending money on a new Doll – ‘Julie’, who would go everywhere with her for the duration of the holiday. The Mall was just too noisy and crowded, and busy for my liking. It was bigger than any shopping centre I had been to in England, and even though it was a Sunday, it was rammed with people. It was too loud to try and have a conversation as we walked along, so we decided to get a bite to eat and sit in the relatively hush of the eating area.

As you might expect, there was plenty of choices of things to eat. In the end, my Fiancée had some Chinese food, while the kids and I went for good old burgers and fries from an outlet called “5 guys”. My daughter had a hotdog, while my son and I had burgers. While I was waiting for my order, I noticed the lady in front of me was wearing a dress that still had the label hanging out the back. Being a helpful chap, I tapped her on the shoulder and let her know. It should be noted at this point that throughout my holiday I developed a pseudo American accent when speaking to the natives, and called ladies ‘Ma’am’ and gentlemen, ‘sir’. I don’t know if it helped at all – I doubt it did. Anyway, I informed the lady that her label was still attached so she asked her daughter to tear it off. The daughter duly obliged – and then threw the label on the floor! There were bins in the area, but they were obviously too far away. I didn’t say anything to the girl or her mother, but with hindsight I must admit that it has made me wonder if the dress wasn’t stolen – the way the label (a shop label – I should have mentioned earlier) was ripped off and discarded in the way it was appeared odd to me. Perhaps I judge too quickly; I apologise to the ladies if I do. Anyway, that was the mall: lots of shops, loads of people and too much noise.

On the Monday, we had our first family trip out. Our destination: Gatorland, where you can see a shed load of alligators and other animals, watch “Gator wrestling”, animal shows including the Gator Jump show – where alligators jump several feet out of the water to grab food from a keeper’s hands – and go on a train ride around the park. I got to hold an 8-foot python and saw albino alligator – but a real highlight for me was the small aviary they had where the brightly coloured budgies would come and eat seeds off special lollipop sticks that you could buy for a couple of dollars. The birds were so tame they would be all over the floor, so you had to shuffle your feet to not step on them!

After a brilliant but hot day out, we returned to our hotel got in the pool. I decided to do some bare-knuckle swimming when I swam down to the bottom of the pool and scraped the backs of my hands on the bottom of the pool (which although not rough had a kind of anaglypta effect to it – bumpy enough to scrape your skin on). My knuckles have only just properly healed, because I spent most days in the pool at some point so the scabs that formed got wet which slowed down the healing process. I could F well end up horribly disfigured for life.

And don’t anybody suggest it’s too late for that already.

Tuesday was another day in the pool avoiding disfigurement, as we looked forward to Wednesday and a chance for my Fiancée to meet up with her pen-friend of 40 years!