Hobbo's Poems
A quirky look at life from a Yorkshire poet and his dog's perspective
Old Soul Mates
Posted on 16th May 2022
Old Soul Mates after our sexual shenanigans the laughter the loving the fun we can be quiet together for you my dear friend are the one
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Sunday morning
Posted on 14th May 2022
Sunday Morning Birds belt out their standards from a neighbouring tree as we cradle cuddles and a stay-in-bed tea. A heady aroma sharing post-nooky yawning, life's simple treasures on a sundayspringmorning.
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Sweetheart
Posted on 14th May 2022
Sweetheart You were the cherry on my icing, my sweet and sticky bun until I was deserted and now my love, that scone!
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Lonely hearts ad
Posted on 7th May 2022
Lonely hearts ad Old man - slightly obsessive Seeks other half - spotlessly clean Age or good looks not a factor But ideally responds to 'Hi, Jean.'
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The honeymoon
Posted on 1st May 2022
The honeymoon With her ankles peripheral in vision, The young man was set on his mission To have and to hold As in stories of old, Cementing their love with a frisson.
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Arable Romance
Posted on 17th Apr 2022
Arable Romance A farmer who's looking for love Is keen, a young girl to enrapture To share all his acres of land And add to his coupling a tractor. His ad in the lonely hearts says, Landed gent, seeks a girl with X-factor, Please enclose photo of you, Or, better still, one of your tractor.
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Springtime
Posted on 1st Apr 2022
Springtime Fresh sap is rising in the trees, sweet honey running for the bees. The birds are singing in the breeze and lovers all have grass-stained knees. For spring has sprung it's in the air, old Mother earth lets down her hair and pretty girls with shoulders bare will soon have need of new pushchair.
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A night in
Posted on 16th Mar 2022
A night in Jeremy took Joanne skating Suggesting afterwards, they ate in; With the hope, it might mean mating. Agreeing, Joanne thought a date in Could lead to romance worth 'A' rating Deliveroo girl though was late in Kept the young couple a-waiting, Expecting for this, a berating Received instead but mild placating. Soon as they'd done masticating, Parents came home, relegating Their plans to the bin, frustrating
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The press of time
Posted on 15th Mar 2022
The press of time If we were blessed with unlimited years, none of times whispering press in our ears, chance for reflection, to pause, take a breath, no nagging thoughts of inevitable death. My darling, I'd love you, at first from afar, spend a Millenium admiring your star, another light year before I told you my feelings, enclosed in a sweet billet-doux. Centuries more, I would take to describe your beauty of which, long before I imbibe, I'd gladly spend aeons, singing your praise, decades explaining, you brighten my days. Time though is short, for we all turn to dust, live life while we can and must do what we must. We both of us know that all things come to pass So let's make some babies, here now - in this grass.
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The old sofa
Posted on 12th Mar 2022
The old sofa If you could tell your tales, you would have many things to say about the people, bad and good who over time did lay along your padded, comfy length to watch their latest soap, relying on your springy strength to sneak a naughty grope. How much true passion have you seen, discretely, you stay shtum my faithful friend, that's why I'm keen to simply park my bum.
Hobbo's Poems 