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Thursday 1 January 2015


I've lost count of which day it is of Christmas with the Crooked Cats, but I do know that it's Day One of a brand new year.  May I take this opportunity to wish you all the very best for 2015.  May it bring everything you have ever dreamed of.  Apart from that nightmare about being molested by a giant mutant earwig.  

In the meantime, I hope you have more success than this:


Each year in December I say the New Year
will, for me, be a brand new beginning,
but years of experience make it quite clear
that whatever I try, I’m not winning.

Three years last December I promised myself
that I’d try to be kind and forbearing,
but when that old biddy barged into the queue
it was all I could do to stop swearing.

Two years last December I made a firm vow
that I’d concentrate more on my writing,
but as the rejections which flowed in implied,
it needs to be made more exciting.

A year last December I firmly resolved
that I’d lose weight and get myself fitter,
but less than a week without chocolate or chips
left me ravenous, twitchy and bitter.

Last year in December I vowed to cut down
(I don’t smoke, so that bit wasn’t hard),
but when the champagne toasted in the New Year
it caught me completely off guard.

With so many failures, I know very well
that my will-power just goes to the wall,
so on this occasion I’ve firmly resolved
to make no resolutions at all.             



  1. You clearly wrote this with me in mind! Fabulous poem, Sue, I just love it.

  2. Hello Sue, have just discovered your blog via Facebook Blogging group - I like its quirky style. Have a look at my Hastings Battleaxe some time!