Have just done three concerts, one at Grafton Underwood Church and two in Northampton the next one is at the Midland Band club Kettering, for the pensioners Parliament.  have already had bookings for 2013 up to October

Just thought I would share this poem. it was an article in the sun paper about a sheltered housing place having to remove all their garden stuff as it was a threat to health and safety. I sent it to the sun and the editor replied they had all had a laugh with it


                           DON’T GO INTO THE GARDEN GRANDMA
(Written after seeing an article in the Sun newspaper about a sheltered housing place
  Having  to take all the things out of the garden to comply with health and safety)
YOU CAN'T GO INTO THE GARDEN GRANDMA

You can’t go into the garden Grandma
It’s a mine field, don’t you know
The dangers that lie lurking their
Are things you’d never know.
At the sheltered housing complex
In the garden at the back
The man holding his clipboard
Has found health and safety it will lack.
Rose thorns prove a serious threat
As Mabel Isright has found out
She has got a thorn jabbed in her bum
That really made her shout.
The lovely wooden garden furniture
What dangerous stuff to have around
Fred Notright tried to sit upon a chair
And missed and fell onto the ground
The pot plants are all in the way
For the maintenance staff to sweep the track
Granny Sugden went to water one
And strained her blooming back
All the trees that are in fancy pots
Bill Baxter said they can’t be binned
Cos Mrs Everight hangs her washing on ‘em
And he likes to see her bloomers  blowing in the wind
Then he spotted a garden swing,
Good heavens that must stop
When old Mr Wilkins gets it going
He could go straight over the top.
Is that a bird table standing there
In front of the window where they have their tea
They could sit and watch birds mating
And get them thinking thoughts they shouldn’t be
But the real scourge of the garden
Is the greenhouse, be a good thing when it goes
As it’s only ten foot long by eight
The Warden walked into it and banged her nose.
So  the safety man said it all must go
I know what I’m about
I’m an expert on all safety matters
But he fell down the steps on his way out
So the garden is all emptied out
Nowhere to sit to admire the scene
But then again there’s nowt’ to look at
Apart from the marks where things have been
                                                                      David Garrett

 being interviewed by the presenters of 'Open Country' to be broadcast on Radio 4 on Thursday the 3rd of May at 3pm and Saturday the May the 5th at 6 07am taken in Short wood near Oundle

Nick Penny and myself are doing an interview for radio 4 this week about our beautiful county, Northamptonshire.  We are doing it whilst walking through the woods around Northamptonshire

This is a nostalgic poem about life on the farm it is one of the most popular of the country poems that I do

OLD ALBERT

I’d known old Albert all my life
A countryman through and through
He knew every field and hedgerow
And every bird that ever flew
He ploughed fields behind the horses
Broke the clods down with his boot
Lived on the knife edge of the law
As a few pheasants he would shoot
I can see his face up to this day
Cheeks wrinkled, rosy red
Eyes sunken in like pools of fire
Grey hair upon his head
In summer he’d work from dawn to dusk
To harvest corn and hay
In the winter he’d dig ditches
And the thorn hedge he would lay.
I always asked folk how he was
But one day one replied
I got some bad news for you boy
You know old Albert died
My world just crumbled around me
How could that ever be?
A man I thought could live forever
Had lost his immortality.
The hay-barn, that’s still standing
The old stable looks the same
On the beam there’s all the etchings
Upon which he’d carved his name,
I see him sitting on the floor
Cold tea and suet roll his midday snap
And when he’d told us lads his tales
He’d lie back for a nap,
He was the last of the old countrymen
Changing methods was their demise
I still see him spudding thistles
And wielding his sharp scythes
I like to think that he’s still here
Walking with me through the wood
And perhaps one day we’ll farm again,
Yes! Wouldn’t that be good.

Just a week to go before one of my favourite venues, the Oundle festival at the Queen Victoria Hall, after that it is Rushden Salvation army working on a new comedy routine for them now

This is a small poem pretty topical about plastic surgery
A SHOCK FOR THE DOC


Mary Ann went for a check up
At the clinic in the town
She said I have had a few things done
For that I’m pretty well renown
I’ve had my eyes pulled back a bit
And some skin’s been taken out
My nose had some attention
Then my lips I can now pout
Creases taken from my neck
And my boobs made bigger as well
A tummy tuck, that keeps me slim
I suppose that you can tell
The doctor said ‘I take it that’s all yours,
If down below I’ll examine if I can’
She said ‘well  there might just be a problem
‘cos I used to be a man‘.