up the path

a pantomime in seven cants

boys & girls I hope we’re sitting tight

once upon a curse it's Folkland time

make a wish or flog yr cow the witch

shall sithee now

*

I

fairy tales are born on lonely walks

mustn’t wander far from sight of home

full of wolves & wizards be these trees

keep to the path

come on Jay we're off to seek & hide

though our step mamma with cruel smiles

keeps insisting we'll come to no more

happy returns

run as if we’re drawn like tiger moths

terrified tho' fascinated by

secret flames & glades of Jabberwocks

axemen in hoods

where does criminology come in

what has science got to say of paths

nowadays we kids consume like black

forest gateaux

no religion just on pagan grounds

right or wrong do battle for our souls

undercut the very steps we take

breadcrumbs of truth

II

Jay & I fetch water from a hill

enterprising place to sink a well

Grandma lives where robbers fear to dwell

don’t bears just kill

orphaned girls who mess their lairs & steal

bowls of oats a topsy-turvy world

we’re inhabiting resembles ours

but inside out

welcome back to Folkland sing the bards

find yr inner frog or princess learn

cheating ways from elves & goblins face

monsters down stairs

social media jungles are the new

backwoods no one even needs to leave

home recruitment is on-line just take

tablets for thrills

pop your user name & password in

one day soon you wake up fully trained

only never pinch yourself stay cool

keep to the path

III

latest craze become a terrorist

dig for hidden arms beneath the trees

train to strangle use a sword or bomb

wear a big vest

Nazi folklore planting Gypsies Jews

reds & fairies under kiddies’ beds

woe betide when laptops turn the scape
goats on our heads

Goebbels' make believe comes true the woods

full of sweet & sticky gingerbread

men for hoods in riding gear to scoff

crumbs to those wolves

smell the bloodlust in the human den

tops cremating bony corpses when

sales of Adolf's blueprints hit the roof

speech acts galore

greet the public every morning mad

dogs & Englishmen may stalk in moon

light while four Teutonic horsemen fear

Whittington's cat

IV

It’s a hey diddle-diddle world where

tins of chocolate soldiers run the pile

Humpty Dumpty stands for president

wins by a smile

folksy themed casinos lady luck

runs amock puts money in thy purse

Desdemona Cinderella but

who buttons Prince

daily news that townsfolk read in bed

toads will rule one day it says so here

swop yr cow for beans ye’ll watch 'em grow

under yr eyes

pull the other it's got bellboys on

join the barmy army Hamlin’s pride

keep in line Father Christmas comes down

chimneys a street

Arab wishing for the moon poor Tom's

tiny crutch ice picks my heart thou Grinch

Christian Ombudsmen shall get thee first

die at the polls

V

lost by now ye may not follow me

Folkland breaks the laws of geometry

stories like a thousand nights go on

seasons no end

rhyme & reason sleep across the back

rows of cinemas so long ago

half a pound of treacle toffee bought

Fawkes an old guy

bogey men & women rule for real

charming how these moghuls work their clans

strictly ballroom isn't in it when

ugly meets glam

crows have scoffed the crumbs so what break out

orphaned babes the woods are ours to seek

fortunes go compare yrselves to tits

all ye can eat

London bridge has fallen underneath

Charring Cross's Archers all the king's

men have turned to mice their pie is baked

counting house blues

VI

Christmas ain't a-coming in its owl

goose has laid a rotten egg the rooms

at the inn on half price shepherds have

swum to Berlin

Scrooge has gone to bed without his ghost

let him sleep a conscience off for once

sentimental products shouldn’t sway

how people vote

Banksy's traded in his art for loot

no one gives a monkey’s it's the end

user's right to take a present back

give it the sack

click collect to choose yr favourite fate

no one's forcing ye to cast yr lot

keep it safely pocketed & be

wise on the night

best of three use magic to escape

saddle up yr camel & avoid

'fanticide the vale of kings is wide

keep to the path

VII

happy endings suck ye need a hook

catch the next installment buy my plan

watch it buster tropes like these won’t fly

turkeys will roast

specially in the movies money talks

wiggle room for ass men do the twerk

babe cos Weinstein’s watching from his cell

phone called a friend

Adolf's golden bullet trained the dog

playing dead just wait for series ten

superman returns with Nietzsche's ghost

gods never croak

they just fade to great take Cecil B

here’s another twist for y'all to use

lost in a parallel universe

everything goes

switch from good to evil in a blink

Google glass enables ye to Joe

Ninety every situation go

Matrix for keeps

*

boys & girls I hope we’re sitting tight

once upon a curse it's Folkland time

make a wish or flog yr cow the witch

shall see ye now

not up yr nose!