my being I will endeavour
to resist the naff gene.
I can feel it awakening
deep, deep, deep in the very bowels
of my creaking bod.
This is the reason
our latest project...
and as we are off to the seaside today,
I'm ashamed to say I am partial
to a little saucy seaside naff.
An artistically placed piece of driftwood,
a bucket and spade,
a tastefully painted concrete dolphin,
beautiful plastic butterflies to sit on
the wooden mushroom, that I must say,
my gardening guru at Scotney
was horrified to see me buy.
His view of my rusted, flying as if by magic
flowers accompanied by hummingbirds, was priceless.
They lay in wait for Ted, their soul aim in life...
to decapitate him.
Brightly coloured windmills,
A barometer in the shape of a galleon,
Kon Tiki fashioned out of lolly sticks.
Heart-shaped pebbles from the beach slipped
seamlessly down my left knicker leg.
A saucy songstress in red spotty dress reclining on
a deck chair who warbles every time you pass her by.
The list is endless.
I will however draw the line at a gnome
complete with fishing rod.
Heaven forbid that you should think
me a daft tart or worse than that...