I leaned over the side
Of the old canal barge
My face was reflected
With the billowing clouds
Foam from the rudders blade
Was strung out behind us
Now we were slowing down
As we approached the lock
I could see the carp now
Their fins were emerging
I felt a wisp of Sue's hair
As she leaned over me
She touched my shoulder
Her grin reflected below
I'll kiss her at the bridge
Hope her dad won't notice
Normally observant
He watched me like a hawk
But his concern now was
For this boatload of grain
The light filtered away
I spun around quickly
Kissing her sweet lips
Good, she was not surprised
She held on tight to me
We parted as it lightened
I turned round and looked back
His eyes were on me now
Image found at www.kustvaartforum.com
If there's one person
Who gets up my nose
It is surely one
Who is bellicose
Just what does it take
To make friends with all
Oh for heavens sake
Don't get in a bind
Just try to be kind
Getting mad is bad
Image found at www.youthconnect.com
I am so old now
but I still remember Kathleen
and her sweet kisses
My eyes fill with tears
falling like autumn leaves
as I recall her
Crushed now underfoot
in the forest of despair
by time's ceaseless march
It was teenage love
when all spring's joy blossoms out
belying time's round
She left me of course
I rushed to Pandoras side
to be given hope
I'm sure she nodded
but fables play with men's minds
they talk not of days
Now autumn leaves fall
sweet Kate waves to me again
all these years later
I wave back at her
laughing and crying at fate
as we kiss once more
This is a true poem of two teenagers whose lives took separate paths only to find each other again both widowed in their seventies. Although the poem is in haiku format it should be read as a narrative because I even think now in 17 syllable sentences when I write!
Image found at www.pixabay.com
I had an uncle many years ago in England that was a carpenter working on building construction and like most young and able men at that time he was encouraged to join the Army at the start of the Second World War.
He was a single man and owned a motorbike and his life was opening up for him as Britain slowly emerged from the years of the depression hoping for better times to come.
It wasn't long before he was called up to take active service and was enrolled in the Royal Army Service Corps and having some knowledge of driving he became a driver of an army truck.
In my early childhood days I was encouraged to write to him as he served in North Africa, Italy and finally Austria while he responded faithfully giving me reasons why he couldn't send me bullets at souvenirs!
He told me after he had returned safely of his abhorrence of war and the ugly side of service and explained that despite many attempts to get him to accept a higher rank he remained a private thoughout the war.
The reason he said was that he never wanted to be in a position where he might send another human being to his death; luckily he survived the conflict to tell me that himself.
Image found at www.miliblog.co.uk
On way home from school
Liked how he gave us candy
Kindly and smiling
Waving each morning
Seeming to be so noirmal
To all of us kids
And just who could tell
From his outward appearance
He was lighthearted
Then the dramatics
Cops came round to arrest him
What a fuss there was
Kindly and smiling
Liked how he gave us candy
On way home from school
Image found at www.guavatini.com
It was fortunate
That the day my owner died
She was feeding me
Changing my water
Filling my bowl with some seeds
While chirping her way
I looked down at her
Then to the open window
Wind waving the drapes
Fluttering my wings
Cautiously I made my way
Whistling with wild hope
I looked back at her
Sleeping now there in her cage
She would never leave
Image found at www.windycityparrot.com
I am so old now
But take my capsules each night
And dream of the past
And so remember
Those former halcyon days
And our walled garden
Busy bees working
Pollen sticking to their backs
Thanks for the nectar
On this hottest day
Invasion of kakydids
Come to say hello
On scorched driveway
Our active children hopping
Over the chalk marks
Wife tapping the gourd
Nearly ready for picking
I'll not intervene
Take toddler to shops
Oops! Now she is shoplifting
Candy in her hand
That's my crooked mind
Spreading memories again
Of long ago past
I'm back home again
Having an afternoon nap
Still dreaming of you
Image found at www.lerablog.org
