Orange juice kiss

A circle of dried, sweet orange juice
Finger to mouth, the taste memories seduce

Memories of that sweet orange juice kiss
Thoughts race to the past and days of bliss

The giggling young angel standing at the bedside
The past and the present, emotions collide

Those glorious hours playing in the park
Warm sunny days before the onset of dark

When long summer day’s end and it’s time to rest
Sweet angel climbs up and lays head on my chest

If there’s one memory that brings me this bliss
It’s the memory of that sweet orange juice kiss

poem by Brian 'Peza' Perrins
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Puckered Lips

Long hazy days of endless fun
Locked arm in arm on strolling trips
Ne’re looking back nor forward either
Ho how I miss those puckered lips

The fun we had just hanging around
No one bothered about time or reason
With friends we share our childhood play
Out having fun no matter the season

When I look back with glazed expression
To see the wondrous life we had
It’s then I realise it had its shortfalls
Where love was lost, days ended sad

But above it all when we were young
Through memories haze, the hops and skips
The beauty of my childhood sweetheart
Lost in sweet dreams of those puckered lips

[...] Read more

poem by Brian 'Peza' Perrins
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Black Country Times - part 1

Or roight me ode mert, erw yaw gewin
Better than me ar bet, om gewin ta rack en ruwin
I ay sin yaw fer a few wicks ar dow think
Ere abart the punch-up last wick, oh my gord wora stink

Ar I did, it wuz a roight bust up I heard, cheirs un bottles flyin
I think aar Bert woz in the thick o it cuz aar Mary wuz cryin
Ar I think he woz, he toed me e nearly spilt is point!
It’s about time they closed the plerce down, it’s a roight friggin joint

Y’ roight thear mert, if ya car av a point in peace
Yaw might as well call it a day, y’ know, call in the police
Y’ wastin y’ time callin the friggin police
They woe cum, too bizi lookin for a bit a peace

Anyway ar gorra gew, it’s benefit day y’ know
Standin in that friggin queue mecks the day gew slow
Or roight aar kid watch erw ya gew, see ya soon ode mate
Om off down the chippie for me tae, ope they put it on the slate!

poem by Brian 'Peza' Perrins
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