Wednesday, November 25, 2015

The old dusty bottle

Edmund had kept the precious bottle of wine for many years in a cool dark place saying "We'll open that on our anniversary" to his wife Jean but sadly she sought the company of angels before that event.

Heartbroken, even he forgot that old dusty bottle now aged to perfection in the cellar and became a recluse living in the past.

Old Man Time's hand then too reached down for Edmund for him to pay his respects to those in heaven.

Edmund's family came down from up north to the funeral and dispose of the furniture and effects but there was nothing they wanted except a few family photos.

So they arranged for their father's next door neighbors, the Burke's to arrange the disposal of everything else and told them to take anything they fancied and even paid them for that service.

Jim Burke and his wife happily did that as they had been friends with the old couple for many years and soon the place was emptied except for the cellar and they were surprised to find a bottle of Australian Penfold Grange 1971 wine there worth the best part of $1000 waiting for them. 

Image found at

Working hard

Oh what strange creatures we are
Living our lives without a care
Playing, laughing here and there
Learning, toiling
Eyeing, flirting
Losing, hurting
Until that day
We find the one
That now makes our world complete

Then we two unite as one
Working hard out in the sun
Resting when the day is done
Digging, sowing
Blooming, growing
Loving, making
Birthing, rearing
For we're the ones
Surviving now in our embrace

Image of "L'Angelus" by Jean-Francois Millet found at


My thoughts are jumbled
No longer can I see straight
Age wearies me now

Mirror where am I?
My illustrious past gone
Gurgling down the drain

Young man do you hide?
Gone my habitual ways
Frail in mind and limb

I scent treachery
Where have all the flowers gone?
I feel so weedy

Lover where are you?
Pretty girls all in a row
They look not on me

Image found at

Saturday, November 21, 2015

Break of Day

It was now early morning
I looked across the valley
A mist was rising, drifting
Throogh the shadowy treetops
Sun's brilliant morning light
Revealing hidden treasures
Now before my watchful eyes
While her warmth enlivens all
The secret world before me
Silver sparkling water falls
Into the abyss below
Birds sing their holy carols
To the new born break of day
Tidings of great joy for all
My flesh quivers with delight
Wild nature tames even me
Strolling over that hill's pass
My happy face glows with tears

Image found at

Winter's coming

Now far from the barbaric world
I hide in my forest retreat
Late afternoon stroll with my friends
Blackbirds whistling in the bushes
Autumn leaves snowing from the trees
Now whirling around at my feet
Rhythm of the woodpeckers beak
Making ready his winter home
Pantomime performance takes place 
As squirrels stash their winters feast
Their cheeks full moving back and forth
Overhead the stillness now pierced
By hunting birds of prey screaming
Like arguing bawds in a city street
It's been a bad day for business
Setting sun now darkens my path
I breathe in the scent of evening
Nearby owl ruffles his feathers
Preparing for his long night shift
But I feel calm now all is well
So I make my way slowly home

Image found at

That inescapable fact

She knew that the truth
Was that I loved her so much
And so tenderly

We were miles apart
In our age and our thinking
But that changed nothing

Just to kiss her nose
Even to brush her long hair
Would be a delight

To breathe in her scent
To walk along holding hands
Never letting go

So we were in love
That inescapable fact
Was not lost on us

There for us always
We do not talk about that
It's all about trust

Image found at

Thursday, November 19, 2015

The Girl from Bridge Street

When I was young I lived in a small town with small town people with petty ideas about who was OK and who wasn't.

So those who lived across in Bridge Street were somehow not like us for there was a class divide except that Maisie Young was in the same class as me at school and when I looked at her she looked right back at me and smiled.

I used to walk her home and once over the bridge with the river running below I dared to hold her hand for it was soft and warm and that put a smile on both our faces.

It was my brother that told on us to my Dad who shook his head and I looked across at Ma who for some reason was looking down not saying a word as Dad raved on about finding a better class of girl to walk home with.

Later on as I was helping her with the dishes, putting them away and sorting out the cutlery she whispered to me, "I came from Bridge Street son, your Dad has forgotten that.

Childhood romances don't often last and that was such a long time ago but even today I think of her and wonder what lucky man married her.

Image found at