November 19, 2012

 

 

Incidentally,

I forgot to mention

– All will be well.

Go with my blessing child.

Carry my love in your heart.

We’ve all been to hell,

but the nightmare is over.

I promise you that from now on

– All will be well.

 

 

 

 

Like seashells on the beach,

people come in all shapes and sizes.

Each beautiful in different ways,

and full of hidden surprises.

 

 

 

 

 

They were on a different level,

caught up in a faster zone.

She had a full life with her husband,

just at the time Mum were left alone.

 

They were actively upwardly mobile

in the fast-track business flow,

just when life came crashing

down around them, and hit home

with a thunderous blow.

 

Choosing between the two of them,

both needing her in equal measure,

spilt her heart down the middle,

often causing them both displeasure.

 

It was a no-win situation that comes

with the wretched number ‘three’.

Being impossible to divide into two,

Oh, what misery three can be!

 

 

 

 

 

They lived in exile,

but took solace from

knowing their parameters,

and in many ways,

enjoyed a more settled,

fulfilling life.

 

 

 

 

Their love sure stood the test of time,

their loyalty never wavered.

Though enduring many an off beat crotchet,

they had a love that never quavered.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I passed your favourite tree today,

the one you always marvelled about.

You often wondered of its age,

and wisely knew it would see you out.

 

 

November 6, 2012

 

 

There’s a spare one under the mat

just by the rear door,

and another behind the bench

on the greenhouse floor.

 

There’s one hidden in a plastic bag

pressed into the old hydrangea.

Some worry about my security,

but I don’t think I’m in danger.

 

There’s one held across the road

by a very friendly neighbour,

and one held by the milkman

who sort of has it as a favour.

 

There’s one kept by the Vicar

in case I’m locked out after church,

and my brother also has one 

in case he’s ever in the lurch.

 

There’s one hooked above the cat-flap

inside the utility door,

and the gardener has a duplicate, inside

a bag of fertilizer called ‘Growmore’.

 

Under a shammy, in a bucket,

just by the outside tap,

is another for the window cleaner

who’s such a lovely chap.

 

The one I haven’t mentioned,

is held by him who can’t be named,

who first came round on his pushbike

to flush my drains out, so he claimed!

 

 

 

I asked her if she’d ever

‘googled herself’,

and she replied ‘Only when

your Grandad was away in

Africa during the war’.

 

 

 

 

 

When you’re young and in love

and passion is hot,

there’s no greater pleasure

than when he’s gripping your bot.

 

When you’re aged and wobbly

and passion is forgot,

there’s no greater feeling

than when he is not.

 

 

 

 

 

There’s nothing quite as impressive

as a swanky hanky

when a sneeze he is trying to catch.

A tissue just won’t do

and a manky hanky, makes one,

away from him, want to detach.

 

 

 

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