Kevin Crinks Poems

He's just too 'touchy feely'
He gets too close to me
He gets a kiss from all the girls
From six to eighty three
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Don't waste your time calling my name
I'm far too busy to play your game
I'm sniffing a dog's bum and it's doing the same
Cos I'm a dog: and that's what dogs do
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A vision to behold, the Vicar’s wife
Her hair and figure, complexion too
Her presence enhances this parish’s life
For women like her are tragically few
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Praise and thanks to God in heaven
Source of being, life and power
Who has given Brother Sun
To light the world each passing hour
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All nationalities, races and religions
Represented on this world on wheels
As sights of Paris pass by, our senses
Now immune to their immensity
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Gordon Brown, hated by some
Not a good leader, he sits on his bum
Like Tony Blair he's got funny hair
Wears a big frown, Gordon Brown
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Pride is what I felt when I saw you on the stage
You've done far more than me when I was just your age
You've grown in confidence and stature
Your inexperience doesn't matter
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1. Those feet didn't walk on England's mountains green

2. Neither was the Lamb of God on pleasant pastures seen
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Double you double you double you dot
Get a load of what she's got
Internet opens lots of doors
To nymphets who have lost their drawers
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Autumn days filled with bitter feelings
Leaves falling, icy wind chilling the bones
Shadows cast long upon the walls
Of once busy - now silent - homes
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