Helen’s poems

Helen with statue in Rome

Helen with a statue in Rome

My return to Old Blighty is on the horizon and I’m looking forward to seeing everyone again.  One friend, who I desperately miss, has creatively expressed her feelings about my homecoming.  With her boss on annual leave she productively used those five precious days to compose poetry.  Each morning this week I’ve woken up to a lovely little ditty and, in recognition of her recognition of me, I’ve decided to post them.  So here they are ….


Her hair so glossy like an Afghan Hound

Her bum so peachy, so squashy and round

Her eyes they pierce you through your soul

She’s a full-grown frog, she’s no tadpole

Her laugh so sweet, like an amusing ass

Her humour so dark, so filthy, so crass

She is my Angel, my Princess Simone

When she reads this crap she’s bound to groan

Lone Wolf

The lone wolf prowls through the night

Her strength, her power, her force, her might

She captures men with her mighty chest

They can’t resist, they give it their best

But her tender heart betrays her tale

Would she like to partner with an alpha male?

Her Skilled Prowess

Helen eating cake

Helen eating cake

The panther strikes at 8pm

That’s when Step class begins for them

Her fluid moves, her skilled prowess

Is she real? They wonder, they guess

Their envy shows, they can’t hide it now

“She’s so damn good, that effing cow”

But she cares not, she’s in the zone

Those insecurities, they have flown

She’s with the music, they are at one

The rest all vanish, set with the sun

But the class must end, it goes too fast

The panther grins, she’s had a blast

Queen of Step

She loved to step

She loved its groove

She had the gift

With nothing to prove

She laughed at those with two left feet

Who tried so hard but missed the beat

Helen boarding the Orient Express to Brighton

Helen boarding the Orient Express to Brighton

She’s the Queen of Step

She wears the crown

She’s so damn good

It makes others frown

Their Shared Moon

The glow of the moon in the sky above

Draws their gaze, they think of their love

Friends apart, their bond can’t be broken

Their shared moon, their friendship token

It’s their connection when they feel low

Distance will make this friendship grow

But not long now, just a few weeks left

The English one will be no more bereft

Her Aussie friend will return to this land

And once again they’ll be a merry band

10 responses to “Helen’s poems

  1. Nicola Cressey

    ‘Her Skilled Prowess’ rocks! It’s the way you enter the room that puts everyone in their place, Simone. They dare not take yours, after all.

    • Ha! Yes, I think you know the ‘look’ people get if they attempt to place their Step in ‘my’ position. I find it astonishing that this has continued to happen at the gym over here – I have ‘my’ spot and no one goes near it!

  2. Crack-a-jack!! That Helen…. vintage frocks by name vintage words by nature! Great!

  3. Ha. I started reading and it said poetry and I thought “Argh, not poetry!” It’s the English teacher in me. And then I started reading. And laughing. It’s very you Simone. She obviously knows you quite well. I can imagine spending my boss-free days in the same way. The photos are hilarious as well.

  4. This lass is a genius, genius I tell you!

  5. Wow Helen you are truly a great poet 🙂 and stunning to boot!

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