just waiting for your ideas to kick off...!
THE INNER CHILD...
remembering when you were young
all those days of eternal summer fun
when life was full and free
running around, playing with glee
freedom to do whatever you like
running around, riding a bike
playing games til darkness fell
then home for dinner and treats as well...
how much do you miss those special days
when all you did was sleep and play
and now as the years pass by
how much of that do you continue to try
to keep in your life as age does slow
the spark in your eye, that always glowed
are there things you'll never lose
even as the past you review
do you still have a treat
of ice-cream or some sticky sweets
or secretly enjoy kids TV
pretending it's informative, generally
do you still bounce upon your bed
when no one's looking, then hit your head
leaving you in tears, but no one comes
to a tearful dad or mum
do you love playing on the lawn
rolling around, shirts and shorts torn
mud on your face, that's not a facepack
join in the sack-race, not race to the sack
go all gooey, when approached for a kiss
instead of having a true night of bliss
playing games on your PS3
keeping your manual dexterity
as an excuse for getting older
fighting thee demons and getting bolder
oh for the joys of days gone past
when each moment would never be the last
and now you keep some childhood thoughts
to bring out when you won't get caught
and the end of this rhyme is purely cursory
sometimes, to unwind, just go back to the nursery.....
There is a sweet lady of scottish descent
who admits she'll never repent
or ever be persuaded to let go
of her love for a simple potato...
whether chipped or dipped
in mayo or sauce
her love for spuds will never divorce
diced or spiced or just plain boiled
gently buttered, new and fresh from the soil
sauteed with something a little naughty
or posh dauphinoise, just a little haughty
plain baked, roasted or sliced and fried
her tatty lust is never denied!
A VIEW FROM THE VERANDA...
Sun setting over a vibrant sea
surf pounding to the shore with glee
streams of light glistening in crimson and gold
a vision of beauty to behold...
tidal connections, leaving reflections
rippling across the living reef
nature's own vitality, a scene seen in reality
tempestuous beyond belief...
as each wave, waives its right to delight
to the next vibrant one in line
boiling and bubbling, toiling and troubling
on the surface seemingly so sublime...
this is the view, for me and you
as we sit stunned, open-mouthed and gander
silently still as the oceans power doth thrill
from our sunkissed seats on the veranda...
yet below the surface
of action and friction
lies sanguine stability
painted beauty depiction
where communal humility
and teeming futility
live together in fantasy homes...
and hunter and prey
frolic each day
darting and diving
innocence and conniving
natures friends and foes
in warm water floes
under the surface foams...
compete yet exist together...
and the sad thing we know
is that these reefs fail to grow
and that nothing, even beauty, is forever...
so with this sad contemplation
of human lifes denegration
of everything we see that is living...
one last thought to be shared
if only everyone cared
then nature would be much more giving...
and as the sun falls behind
the night sky now fully defined
with distant stars and full moon...
a cloudless sky overhead
we sit here and dread
that this moment will be over too soon.....
A dark romance is reaching its union
when Sarah and Pete this week get wed...
no bride in white for this loving pair
the dress in purple and black instead...
A sweet vision of unearthly delight
will rise serenely from the night
preparing with style before she dresses
beauty surrounded by fiery red tresses
but this ceremony is no funeral pyre
the flames are just of love growing higher
and when the moment finally doth come
she have Pete’s key ‘tween finger and thumb
the key to unlock his ball and chain
before they kiss in this gothic refrain
and after ceremonial words are said
it’s time to fire the barbecue instead
the cake is unveiled as twin black hearts
with spider-web piping over it’s parts
just be careful what you do with the knife
no blood-letting as you become man and wife!
‘best wishes to Sarah (lil red gem) and Pete’
A personal poem... but for all
When I lost my mother
after she fought cancer for years
through all the highs and lows
and the torrents of tears...
when I spent every moment
of her last few otherworldly days
sat by her side, holding hands
tho' her eyes and mind were in a haze...
when her last breath registered
and her eyes opened so bright
as she looked suddenly upwards
and knew the time was right...
and that final single twitch
of her hand locked in mine
will live with me forever
a special moment in time...
and in the months that followed
I learned to enjoy the bliss
of the memories of a lifetime
of a mother truly missed...
but as time slowly passes
and one's own life must be cared for
I get a message, from my sister
sounding scared like none ever before...
she's been diagnosed with breast cancer
and is frightened to the core
and there are no words of comfort
that can express the hurt anymore...
the future, she's told is not bright
hard radiotherapy is beckoning
her hurt now bleeds all over me
and there is no light in the reckoning...
how can I help her?
through these times of desperation
when she has memories too
of our recent familial devastation...
I'm lost in a fog
of hatred and retribution
but need to guide her to
a happy living solution...
we don't live very near
and visits will be hard to arrange
I'm going to write her a poem
everyday - is that strange?
but if anyone can give guidance
of how we can cope with the above
then my complete appreciation
will be returned with much love...
From a time spent miles afar
full of smiles and wishes fulfilled
there be a desire to visit homely sights
now that sun drenched eve's have overspilled
and thoughts return to sunkissed minds
of green sward hills and running streams
falling rain with biting winds
of chill air breath and nightly steams
to hear echoes through cavernous valleys
take shaded walks in crisp relief
hand in hand with my soul partner
love once imagined now true belief
so sailing by on a tide of joy
much stronger now is the yearning
to come home to one's own ways
thoughts now turned onto - on returning....
Rays of dappled moonlight
dance through the forest trees
leaves rustle and sing within
held by the evening breeze...
and gliding 'tween the ancient oaks
so silent I could've sworn
plowed a vision of glimmering white
the mythical unicorn...
with mane of pure driven snow
and lionine flowing tail
it's beauty ne'er to be surpassed
such to silence a gale...
a creature conceived by love
instead of human fears
a solitary bringer of goodness
from the darkness of tears...
and yet it can never rest
or been seen emerging
in daylight it would be hunted down
entrapped by the scent of a virgin...
in open air, pulled to the lair
and if fed from that poison bait
the unicorn's spirallescent horn
can drain pain afore 'tis too late...
and if one day you may happen to sight
this glowing creature of night's delight
remember this one simple request
never share the site of the unicorn nest...
BELOW THE SURFACE...
Dive-in and flex
let the water take hold
flow with the tide
see seascapes so bold
in this other world
beneath the sea
a clarity in fantasy...
and swimming through the reef nearby
many more sights do you espy
from anemones waving multi coloured fingers
to jellyfish floating with trailing stingers
seahorses so shy and unprotected
flitting then hiding undetected
in the distance you see a patrol
of playful dolphins on a roll
dancing with vibrancy, elegance and grace
joy and glee upon their every face
and lobster and crab scuttling by your feet
making clouds of sand fly afleet
then gliding through like winged messiahs
are the oceans long haul flyers
manta rays a vision unreal
menacingly silent yet gentle to feel
a gentle giant in every way
covering miles of ocean each day
moving in an armada with intensity of reason
towards the place of their mating season
and as they glide from brief interraction
leaving you feeling sublime satisfaction
they pass out of view with a single wave
of each vast wing, a path they pave...
wishing them well on their passage
you turn as you feel a gentle massage
as fairy wings of warm water shoals
pass by quickly as danger unfolds
blue sharks hunting in a pack
ravaging through while the tide is slack
encasing in a murderous dance
a shoal of silver flashing lance
so as the water turns a vibrant red
you move away to tranquility instead...
FOR THE LOSS OF A CHILD...
no right words as sentiment
gone but never forgotten
my child, I was besotten...
tears fall, your voice calls
I hear it, yet fear it
once so sweet and fair
now, never again to be there...
I picture the closeness, tho' now am blind
special memories, ever hurting to find
a reason, no rhyme can replace
that angelic smiling face...
I reach out for you, for your young hand
to hold in mine, as my heart disbands
and breaks into a thousand tears
each one a moment from your momentary years...
those tears I taste and savour to keep
tho' many more from my heart I shall weep
and collect together as your lifeblood to drink
every day, every way, of you that I think...
and they will refresh me with hope anew
that the time here we spent as two
can give us both the reasons for being
so that in life, as in death, we are all seeing...
so even tho' there is no visible face
we are together in time and space
and tho' it hurts so, even to try
I am with you now, and be again when I die...
Pendant pods from topaz blooms
fill the air with filigree perfumes
scented scintillation to make you all a fluster
from climbing limbs, clambering to a cluster
vanilla essence exudes sensual spores
waxing leaves, leave you waning no more
mesmeric magic merges with motion
adding to the sexual potion...
roaming romantically into hearts entwined
setting scenes too obscene in the mind
rousing the carousing to higher heights
delighting the senses with scentsual delights
a fragrant frangipane with ambrosial cream
so your va-i-nilla is full-filled from your dreams...
Boxes, boxes, everywhere
everything but the kitchen sink
can't find a thing, now I'm there
not a kettle to make a drink...
masking tape and bubblewrap
all over the kitchen floor
can't believe I've got so much crap
and there's still a lorry load more...
I rip and tear, curse and swear
and still nothing to quench my thirst
cups and mugs, glasses and jugs
I'm beginning to fear the worst...
towels and curtains, I was almost certain
I'd put the kettle in here
no time to think, must have a drink
so I'm off to the offy for some beer!
A lemming is not suicidal
it's migration is quadrennial
when its population booms
meaning there is no more room
they can head for the sea
desperately trying to get free
and although they can swim
it's not with much vim
and pushed over by a mass of more
many drown before reaching the shore...
from weak spring sun to bananas for fun delight
and daffodils to custard slap-stick and bun fights
through fields of rape and grim teeth agape
and wisden almanacks held together with tape
australian one-day kit and jaundiced fellows
all encompassing, shades passing as yellow...
apple pie with custard covering
sugared sweet sharp grapefruit smothering
melons so juicy, dripping down from lips to chest
and lemons squeezed and grated for zest
pure milk butter, spread on golden toast
lemon marmalade covering bread from the oast...
sunflowers that glower in midday sun
silken honey through fingers does run
alabamababe with flowing flaxen hair
a smile of pure sunlight, I wish I was there
turmeric turning into a curry so nice
yellow saffron to add from a subtle hint of spice...
canaries that sing with sweet expulsions
a hint of yellow to a humdrum emulsion
inkily gaudy highlighters and post-its
aged cheddar and cheesy tit-bits
unripe tomatoes and trendy courgettes
faded lace and thick winceyettes
covering skin that under dappled gas-light
makes me yell - oh! what tasty titillating sights!