Time For A Funny One

A Woman Rugby Player…

There was something about Emma that reminded me of Frank.

I couldn’t put my finger on it, but she smelled quite rank!

It could have been the odour that oozed from her body,

Or that she liked gutting fish in her spare time as a hobby.

As she drew nearer I could stand it no more!

I ran onto pitch not opening the changing room door.

There was mud underfoot with rain threatening to pour

But as she followed the smell grew more and more.

She played Hooker with me as the Tight-Head,

At the first scrum I passed out; almost dead!

I recovered to see her make the winning score,

So we married that day and we don’t wash anymore…….Boom, boom.

© 2015, Danny Kemp. All rights reserved.

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About Danny Kemp

I was at work one sunny November day in 2006, stopped at a red traffic light when a van, driven incompetently, smashed into me. I was taken to St Thomas' Hospital and kept in for a while, but it was not only the physical injuries that I suffered from; it was also mental ones. I had lost confidence in myself let alone those around me. The experts said that I had post-traumatic stress disorder, which I thought only the military or emergency personnel suffered from. On good days, I attempted to go to work, sometimes I even made it through Blackwell Tunnel only to hear, or see, something that made me jump out of my skin and that's when the anxiety attacks would start. I told my wife that I was okay and going regularly, but I wasn't. I could not cope with life and thought about ending it. Somehow or other with the help of my wife and medical professionals, I managed to survive and ever so slowly rebuild my self-esteem. It took almost four years to fully recover, but it was during those dark depressive days that I began to write. My very first story, Look Both Ways, Then Look Behind, found a literary agent but not a publisher. He told me that I had a talent, raw, but nevertheless, it was there. His advice was to write another story and that I'm delighted to say, I did. The success of that debut novel, The Desolate Garden, was down to sheer hard work, luck, and of course, meeting a film producer.
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