Tuesday, December 22, 2009



With all this globally warmed snow, it's a wonder anyone's
got time to stuff a turkey - I haven't that's for sure, far too busy
stuffing meself into six layers of thermal pants.
Any road up, let's look after our planet while
there's still enough heat to bake yer mince pies.


Someone said in Africa elephants won’t move,
Til you kick ’em up the arse, when it’s time to prove
Who’s the boss, largest trunk, herder of big tribe,
Leading to fresh water so they can imbibe,
But once on the caravan it’s too hard to stop,
Ev’rything makes way - forest, field and crop,
So although Copenhagen treaty’s very weak,
Whilst poorest nations still play hide and seek,
Some plastic tractor wends its brittle way,
Keeping China fumigating to the USA,
Elephantine millions stood up and marched,
Wind-power champions before earth’s parched,
Peaceful petitions flew in cyber space,
Desmond the Nobel setting up new pace,
Personally appealing to the greater good,
Stop chopping Amazon for a bit of wood !
Vigils all over, calling for what’s fair,
Binding pollutants from fouling our air.
Meanwhile, snowstorms fell right on cue,
Two degrees hotter ? P’raps for a few -
Railed channel tunnel stuck overnight,
Old folk and children had such a fright,
Ice and hail stones kept frozen North,
But Santa’s reindeer still stride forth -
Carols and mincemeat, red furry hat,
Cards from old friends fall on yer mat,
Parties and puddings, pastry and pies,
(Most of which ends up stuck on yer thighs),
Discos and glitter, nuts and mulled wine,
After the Solstice, twinkle stars shine,
Tinsel and Turkey, perfectly formed,
With crisp roast potatoes, globally warmed,
Let’s care for our planet - but just watch out
For greenhouse gas from that brussel sprout !

Merry Christmas everyone !
Luv doris x


Sunday, December 06, 2009



Hey up luvs
I've not chin-wagged for a while cos I've been up to me knee bandage in dementia one way or t'other. Not easy is it ? Us carers have to keep tabs on everything - how much steradent is left ? Is the laundry done ? What about them pills he's s'posed to take and forgets, until he swallows two lots at once and then his blood's too thin - What a to-do ! No wonder I haven't time to write a blooming blog. Here's a little ditty for now. Goodness knows when I'll re-surface fully, but I'll do me best to send you all flowers next Valentine. Meanwhile Happy Christmas !


People often say to me “What on earth is that ?”
Soaking wet and dirty, like a drowning rat,
But when softly fluffy, apricot and white,
She’s the perfect pooch, wouldn’t ever bite.
I reply “special breed” calling her my “Toodle”,
Pure West Highland Terrier jumbled up with Poodle,
Deepest black eyes ever seen in that coochie face,
Little legs flying, greyhounds she’d out-race.
Bounces up to greet me like a coiled spring,
Just to see her smiling makes my poor heart sing.
Lately she’s been leading to the old folks’ home,
(Maybe cos straight afterwards I give her a bone?),
No I reckon she knows more, I can only glimpse,
Unfailing compassion to the one who limps,
Cancer-riddled, nearing death, lungs barely wheeze,
But when he spied Trixie, life became a breeze !
Grinning ear to ear, gently stroking fur,
I swear if she was a cat I would hear her purr,
Panting, sharing private jokes with her deepest love,
Preparing for onward travel up to stars above,
Oscar, Eddie, Bernard too and dear Charlie boy,
For all four of them, playing smart decoy,
Tricked into forgetting all about their pain,
Grieving loss, misfortune, living in the rain,
Teaching present moment peace from purest joy,
And for me does the same, she’s my favourite toy,
Dressing up as Reindeer or Hawaian dolly,
Antlers, Santa coat and hat, flower garland jolly.
Qualified as PAT dog, hospital her scene,
Long as she’s kept sparkling (and her bottom clean!)
Welcomed into hospice giving staff a lift,
Weary after night hours working a hard shift.
Yesterday old Eddie passed, peaceful at the end,
But I know she did her best, helped his heart to mend,
Blessed him with her comfort between tears and muddle,
Never doubt the healing power of a doggy cuddle.

Luv doris, the new age guru x
Email: doristlc@hotmail.com

Tuesday, February 24, 2009



Hello luvs

It's been a whole year I've been silent - well, chatting a lot, but mainly over me garden fence rather than through cyberspace. It's generally more comfy for those of us who live in slippers. I read that a snail can sleep for three years, so I'm doing quite well waking up this early. Any road up, it's been that time of year hasn't it ? Husbands buy flowers, everyone sends cards with question marks, but mostly it's from the other half so not very exciting really. I like to remember them that haven't got any one to love 'em - the lonely and the weak, p'raps the other half has gone before 'em - well, me poem says it all really. Let's look after them - we'll all be old one day.

happy days, luv doris x


Fizzy pop and chocolate decorated hearts,

Bandages and plastered legs, dribble, someone farts!

Matron in a shower cap, Manager's red nose,

Hazel who is nearly ninety strikes a funny pose,

Fluffy waistcoat, patent shoes, jokes about her teeth,

On the outside all made up but what's underneath

Is a fighting spirit, only laughing at it all,

In the Old Folks' home this week we just had a ball.

Sound of Music, Mary Poppins, words we can't forget,

Supercalifragilistic, look we're not dead yet !

People think you can ignore us behind quiet doors,

Neatly washed while someone's apron disinfects the floors,

Spoon-fed tenderly, a daughter sang a little tune,

Over the Rainbow, why not fly me to the moon ?

It's the magic places we can feel between the words,

That's what makes a difference, delicate as birds.

Elderly and vulnerable, but their angels' wings,

Are much closer to the surface untrapped by such things

As pleasantries or how d'you do, masks of sheer pretense,

They have gone beyond all that, muttering nonsense,

But if you will dare to listen to the truth they say,

You will see the method in their madness - yesterday

I just met a lady with a twinkle in her eye,

She was tiny like a star in the nighttime sky,

Searching for the hidden meaning, while she understands,

All there is to really know held between our hands,

Whispering, we sang a song of the Silent Night,

Peacefully caressing all the places of sheer fright,

Lilies scented, teddy bears and a tiny rose,

Which I left upon her table, hopefully she knows,

Though we'd never met before, with her hand in mine,

Ev'ry broken heart just needs a Funny Valentine.

Belting it out at top volume, Catherine enquired

"Are we doing a recording?" - what a shot she fired !

Sharp and witty, on the ball, brought me down to size,

Behind their dementia, they are very wise,

So don't saddle them with labels or inject with pills,

Don't complain about the time it takes and all the bills,

Find the places of connection and before they've gone,

Understand that we're not separate, there's only one,

To discover better ways we can truly live,

Open up your heart to love, and then please just give !

These are lessons I have learnt from my little dog,

She has guided me along through the snow and fog,

Brought me to the place she lives in, when I'm in a muddle,

Heals my pain with boundless love and a gentle cuddle,

Plays at being very silly, adorned with her flowers,

Licks my nose to transmit all her ancient special powers,

A reminder that those to inherit are the meek,

So let's have another happy funny loving week.

luv doris, the new age guru x


email: doristlc@hotmail.com

Wednesday, February 13, 2008



hello luvs,
funny how time waits for no man, nor woman for that matter - though we do like to take our time, (especially when it comes to shopping.) I dunno, someone said lately you can't fix emotional pain with shopping, but then he wasn't a woman. I do like a browse now and then, but not round the blooming internet. Do you remember when you could actually go out and buy something from a real live person ? I think this virtual reality is very dodgy meself, but then I am 82, and in my day I only had a mangle. How life's changed eh ? All these computers doing fancy tricks and sending messages all over the place. I still reckon though if you want something doing properly, don't count on a machine. Not unless it does a very good wash. Right with that in mind, here's one of me ditties about the worldwide web we're weaving. Let's just make sure it sparkles. Happy Springtime, luv doris x


Adobe is an acrobat, he tumbles to and fro,
If you right click on this here link, a document will show,
A picture in the top right box and text down to yer left,
But if you click on left too soon, the page will be bereft
Of just the vital part you need to make yer day go well,
Oh bum ! I’ve tipped me teacup over - Blimey, look at Dell,
All over me keyboard, the early grey has flown,
I’ve got me J cloth out to mop, but too late, screen’s just shown,
A danger warning, - you have just performed a fatal trick,
Yer business hasn’t got a hope, the acrobat’s gone sick !
He’s floating in a sea of tea, he’s got no earthly chance,
Of doing flashy MP3’s or video lap-dance,
He’ll never spread the message of yer bright new bold ezine,
And you stayed up all night to write - inspired and so keen.
The mailing list’s a nuisance too, there’s far too many folk,
Some who use the internet, for others it’s a joke,
So now there’s lots of envelopes and stamps you’ve got to lick,
Then several hundred email links yer finger has to click.
Some just get returned too fast, recipient’s gone away -
He had better things to do than read emails all day.
Time was, it was a pleasure, a message to receive,
But with these blooming computers, it’s like a sack to heave !
The letters that the postman used to bring right to yer door,
You have to carry them yourselves, and every day there’s more !
Oh well, I s’pose it’s just a case of buying more software,
A hundred pounds or two or three, and I’ll not have a care -
A man in the United States will play at Postman Pat,
While I write to me neighbour by clicking Skype free chat.
In the past we used to share a cup across the fence,
But round these parts, community relations are quite tense,
I’ve got Morrocco on one side and Germany next door,
They can’t see eye to eye, it seems they’re plotting the next war,
I’m Switzerland, I’m inbetween, a neutral garden patch,
I’m keeping peace, and “mum’s the word”, but key’s not in the latch.
Any road, I haven’t time to spend with ANY friend,
We’re all too busy typing out “new message” and then “send”.
I wonder if I will forget the sound of someone’s voice ?
If I sit here too long, I might forget I have a choice -
It sometimes seems they rule our lives, the internet’s the boss,
Well, I don’t think it’s right, it will be everybody’s loss
If we forget the human touch, apologies and hugs,
“Adobe, I’m so sorry luv, I’ll buy some bigger mugs”.
I reckon I’m a mug indeed, pretending at this game,
I’m better dancing wild, and living well outside the frame.
The rigid boxes on this screen, they hold my soul in check,
I can’t do acrobatics, I’d be a nervous wreck !
I better find a man who can, so I can stop this farce,
Of sitting here typing all day, it’s all gone to me arse,
I’ve put more weight on, stuffing cake and stuffing anger down,
Playing at a Secretary when I’m just a clown.
I know these New Age ezines are positive and fun,
But how many of those Gurus have got a great big bum ?
I’ve got to go to Weightwatchers, it’s Monday evening’s class,
My tail is right between my legs - it’s trying to hide me arse,
If they ask me what I have done to fall behind and binge,
I’ll tell ‘em ‘bout this acrobat and have a good old whinge.
By flashing all his thighs around and tricking me with lies,
About the things that I could do to make me profits rise,
How could I have been so blind ? Now it makes me cringe,
I can’t be seeing properly, it’s time to cut me fringe.
I reckon that’s the answer, my acrobatic days
Are twenty years long gone now, I’ve been right through that phase -
I tumbled in a circus, and fell over the mat,
Playing at an acrobat in a Policeman’s hat.
It’s time for a new hair cut to let the real me out,
I’m going to dye me roots bright red, stand on the roof and shout,
Whoever’s out can hear me, I’ll spread me news that way,
I’ll open my mouth, wide and big, to bring a brighter day.
It’s sunny on that rooftop, and there’s a great sea view,
I’ll practise Yoga, sing and laugh, to celebrate the new,
Woman, I am here indeed, an apron deep and wide,
Upon the airwaves on my broom, I can surely ride.
Forget Adobe, acrobats, ezine news to get,
It’s far too tangled, I’m not getting caught up in that net,
I’m not spending all my days in front of this small screen,
I’ll watch the weight fall off my thighs while dancing like a Queen !
A secretary I will pay to whack emails about,
And if the stamps need licking, the dog’s tongue’s usually out.
If I need new software, my lingerie I’ll change,
As within, so without, I’ll buy a fancy range.
No doubt the internet will catch up with me one fine day,
I’ll teach it how to bake a cake and relax for its pay.
I’ll show how thought waves pure and light can carry message bound
For hearts that need to open wide and hear my special sound.
There’s laughter in the air tonight, I’ll raise a special toast
To all those fancy websites, their servers and their host,
Behind them there are people, just like you and me,
Bill Gates, he’s my brother, but my world wide web is free !

Monday, May 21, 2007




I read it in the Daily Mail, the paper doily’s dead !
“How can sales have plummeted ?” Asda has just said,
They were once regarded as a pillar of the empire,
Now it seems that people have just put them on the fire.
Made from simple thin white paper, delicately cut,
Soaking up the excess grease before it reached yer gut,
Life without them wasn’t on, when vicar came to tea,
Proudly displayed scones on symbols of gentility,
Adorning cakes, a cheap alternate to the crochet type,
If they go we’ll never manage - all the mess they wipe !
Last weekend, on visiting the market in old town,
Munching Artisan pastry, as we sauntered down,
We got done right out of pocket further up the streets,
Doling out seventeen euros for fruit pastel sweets,
Giggling with sweaty bodies, floury sugar lips,
Guzzling red water melon, juice without the pips,
Not a frilly thing in sight to mop our sticky hands,
The Middle Ages could have done with doilies on their stands !
Mid-week it was our Lyn’s birthday, sixty six to date,
She just put a great big doily on a pretty plate,
Slice of apple custard tart, next to four new pups,
Dumped upon her, as we drank champagne from plastic cups.
How can people be so cruel ? Wobbly on their feet,
These small souls can’t even see, never mind eat meat,
And to clear up after them - it’s a daily grind,
Uses loads of paper too - cleaning their behind.
Reckon I’ll just bite the bullet, and ring Asda’s till,
Place an international order, doilies fit the bill,
Wiping bottoms, cleaning dog pooh, it is all the same,
Keeping up appearances - life’s a silly game.
So, for every accident , help us celebrate,
Come on everybody, put a doily on yer plate !

Luv doris, the new age guru x

Sunday, March 18, 2007



For all the women of the world - in celebration of Mothers’ Day.


Here's a special ditty to let you girls all know,
That I am gunning for you 'cos I love you so.
There's fun inside the ladies, and openness in hearts,
And with fancy brassieres we're special jam tarts,
Sweet upon the outside, cherries on the top,
But if someone interferes, we'd give 'em the chop !
Woman's here for honouring, beauty, bold and bright,
Bringing Mother wisdom to the earth with light.
So take care upon the road where yer journey leads,
And make sure you all can get enough space for your needs,
Time to sit in silence, meditate and pray,
It might just be a precious moment on the lav each day !
Somewhere in great privacy, help you hold yer own,
Shed a teardrop or just get some quiet time alone.
Life out there's so busy, people want yer time,
And some streets are full of hatred, violence and crime -
Never mind, let's send healing, joyful with our love,
And for your protection, wear an oven glove !
When it all gets much too hot or angry voices rise,
March into the kitchen and bake some apple pies,
Scrub the oven, mop the floor, wipe the damage out,
Then put on some jolly music, sing and jump about !
Let yer voices all be heard, not a timid mouse,
It's time for pinny power to come out of the house.
Let the world know mother's strong, with her sacred womb,
And let's have a real good laugh before we reach the tomb !

luv doris, the new age guru x

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

right luvs forgot to tell you about me new course - I've cooked up a right concoction for all you would-be clowns and it's about time we started spreading more joy and love around what with all the nonsense there is going on in the world. So to help tickle the global funny bone, I'm teaching a one year course in "Playful Presence" - visit:http://www.clownwithin.com for all the low down.

"Delighted to offer this training,
I'm sending a call out to those,
Ready to dive in the deep end
To follow the sacred red nose"

see you on the bright side, luv doris x

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