Wednesday, 29 January 2020
My Dog
I looked at my dog and he looked at me
He was a great friend as all dogs should be
I knew he had a few things on his mind
Like when's the next meal
Or shall we go out now and rabbits find?
We had a large garden with much to do
Happy when I worked there he'd come out too
But when told to go outside to cock leg
Straight way rushed outside
As never did we even have to beg
Dogs are quite crafty have great sense of smell
When we checked, he disappeared, did not tell
Later this happened again and again
Not to return home
He would chat with dog down the street named Wayne
Sometimes they would both run down the river
Have swim and play then come back the skiver
Totally exhausted after their trip out
Slept in his basket
For an hour or two, the old roustabout
As our road led to open fields and stream
The neighborhood was every dogs dream
His trips with Wayne often with me in tow
Was fun for me too
My wife did say that my face was aglow!
Image found at www.pixabay.com
Sunday, 26 January 2020
The forest darkens
The sun was asleep this winter's evening
And a chill wind blew though each forest tree
While a lone wolf by chance now crossed my path
And a merry owl blinked his eyes at me
The trees darkened but the owl gave no hoot
Darknesses cloak took his time to swagger
He took off to find some prey to bother
He knew that without a light I'd stagger
Oh where was the bright moon this cloudy night?
I stumbled into tendils hanging low
There is slim chance I'll escape from the trees
What on earth is this itch below my knees?
Not sure this is the place where I came in
Yes it is, I see where my car is parked
It's underneath the old acacia tree
Think I should be home by half past three
Image found at www,pixabay,com
Labels:
Forest,
Poetry,
Poets and Storytellers,
The Sunday Whirl
Visiting Grandma
The cups rattle
Here comes the tea
We are visiting grandma don't you see
The house is dark
The lights don't shine
They're not put on 'til dinnertime
She thinks we're deaf
She shouts at us
She's lost her hearing aids not us!
Good she is back
Brings in a tray
As her best china's on display
Filled with pleasure
She pours the tea
Now she splashed it on wife and me!
She shouts out loud
She's much to say
Visitors are few down her way
Brings out album
Of pictures old
Strange people huddled in the cold
She nods and smiles
Her past recalled
Reliving moments quite enthralled
Rain in England
And snow in France
Her eyes light up as memories dance
Her fingers move
It's time we went
She clings to us her back is quite bent
Few weeks later
Heard that she'd died
We were sad; harmless Gran, we both cried
Image found at www.pixabay.com
Wednesday, 22 January 2020
The sea's salty smell
Summer holidays once took us to sea
Mum and Dad and my brother don't you see
Went to grandparents with whom we did board
Which those days was all that we could afford
If the sun decided to shine for us
We would walk to the beach or take a bus
To sit on the sand or the pebbly bit
Depending entirely what the tide saw fit
In those days I hadn't been taught to swim
So to wade in the shallows was my whim
Or collect shells and pebbles that looked good
To show to Ma while she prepared food
The promenade I'd walk with no cares
While parents dozed off in their deckchairs
I'd try my hand on the small putting green
Or ride the sideshows though still not a teen
Later on I went to the coast alone
With cousin we walked miles being windblown
Going to flicks despite were underage
Were both tall so never caused an outrage
Many years have passed since those long gone days
Married now with kids of our own, hip hurrays
A distant country is where I'm now living
But the seas salty smell is still giving
Image found at Pixabay.com
Tuesday, 21 January 2020
The cups rattle
The cups rattle
Here comes the tea
We are visiting grandma don't you see
The house is dark
The lights don't shine
They're not put on 'til dinnertime
She thinks we're deaf
She shouts at us
She lost her hearing aids, not us!
Hear the rattle
Brings in a tray
As her best china's on display
Filled with pleasure
She pours the tea
Now she splashed it on wife and me
Aloud she shouts
She's much to say
Visitors are few down her way
Brings out album
Of pictures old
Strange people huddled in the cold
She nods and smiles
Her past recalled
Reliving moments quite enthralled
Rain in England
And snow in France
Her eyes light up as memories dance
Her fingers move
It's time we went
She clings to us her back is quite bent
Few weeks later
Heard that she'd died
Harmless Gran, we were sad and both cried
Image found at www.pixabay.com
Sunday, 19 January 2020
Australia's summer
Australia has a different view
Of weather in the calendar year
As Christmas time is always warm to hot
As well as being one of good cheer
But this year the country had fires all round
Summer is such a dangerous time
As all the trees and scrub are tinder dry
And sure as eggs the sad death bells chime
Almost anything will set trees aflame
As we and wildlife flee the drifting smoke
A lightning strike or a motors exhaust
Will start the blaze, I tell you its no joke
The smoke and blaze on the far horizon
Sets hearts pounding with tremulous fear
To stay and wait to try and fight the fire
Or seek safety at least ten miles clear
Whatever you decide, must do it now
As the fire engulfs all in its way
Those that fled will sure break their hearts
Those that stay...may die, have nothing to say
Image found at Pixabay.com
Saturday, 11 January 2020
The coming of age
Age calls like the cooing of a dove
Even when young you hear it's soft sound
Hoping that it has good news for you
Then later its persistent chatter
Is so much like a salesmans natter
Hush, hush! The young you now calms it down
The futures is not so far away
You know it's possible any day
Like a sweet siren's beguiling lips
As she touches you with soft finger tips
That feeling stirs up sense not yet felt
You change at once to future's sweet call
To put away all those childish things
As love grasps so now you have no hope
Bound to be caught on her slippery slope
Image found at https://pixabay.com/photos/serch/mermaid/?pagi=4
Labels:
Love,
Poetry,
Poets and Storytellers,
Sunday Whirligig,
Youth
Wednesday, 8 January 2020
First time I kissed you
The very first time I kissed you
and felt the warmth of your lips
touching mine, I knew it was you
that I must have by my side
true enough a few months later
you now were my blushing bride
For there is no life such as this
to find a lifetime partner
no matter those early struggles
the joys of being part of you
and seeing our children born
this love that will last our lives through
Image found at https:''pixabay.com/images/search/married%20couple
Words selected were Felt, Touch and Warmth
Saturday, 4 January 2020
Home is people
The church bells are ringing calling us to prayer
I held my mothers hand as we made our way there
The streets were full of shadows as dawn was so shy
Felt cold despite my coat, wished in bed I'd still lie
I spied the spire now rising tall above the town
Dad glanced at his watch, hated being late, face a frown
He'd served in the war and liked punctuality
As mournful bells stopped ringing we made our entry
We found our seats at the side just as the choir sang
Stood up when the priest spoke, then the service began
He talked of Jesus's birth and dying on the cross
A crib was set up, candles lit and brass all gloss
The service lasted quite some time, I fell asleep
Cuddled up with mum I do not recall a peep
I woke when hearing the final hymn when sung
The we all left the church and bells of joy were rung
I had heard nothing of baby in the manger
Or how Jesus preached to all despite the danger
But was eager to get home to open presents
Now years later somehow it all seems to make sense
What a strange world we live with war and peace still here
War is encouraged to weaken and install fear
Much false news spoke often, wild rumors reign supreme
Feuding is encouraged and peace but a wild dream
But home is full of people and they all love me
So while mother makes our lunch I play happily
Father Christmas brought presents sitting by the tree
Christmas is great for boys and I was only three
Image found at Pixabay.com
Labels:
Childhood,
Christmas,
Church,
Poets and Storytellers,
Sunday Whirligig
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