I’m logging my blog in,
The dolls that I’m floggin
Are going rather slow.
Are you waiting for small ones?
I’ve just done the tall ones
So far, you ought to know.
I’m begging your pardon
I’ve been out in the garden
Painting up my shed.
It has stood as bare wood
Which is not very good
It was doing in my head.
November I swear
Is the wrong time of year
To do painting out of doors.
If the North of the planet’s
The bit you inhabit,
The hemisphere that’s yours.
I will photograph soon
In the dark and the gloom
With some artificial light.
I will photograph some
Much less tall than my thumb,
It will really be all right.
I have finished the paint
I was feeling quite faint
’Cause my fingers had gone blue,
Today, I am muttering,
I should do the guttering
That’s what I ought to do.
As it’s not raining
I am not complaining
I’m out there on the hoof,
Constructing a system
To save rain that’s dripping
And dropping off the roof.
And once it is done
I’ll come back in my home
And turn the heat to ‘up’.
Wipe the drip off my nose
Take the fingers that froze
And wrap them round a cup.
If you are still reading
I thank you, I’m needing
Your patience boys and golls.
When I’m finally warmed through
Well, you know what I’ll do
I will photograph some dolls.