September 30, 2014

 

 

I saw a dog

sat on a trampoline,

keeping it’s

underbelly clean,

 

and free from damp

and dirt and grime,

basking in the sun

waiting for mealtime.

 

 

 

 

There’s a cottage that will do for you,

that’s become vacant, due to the death,

of elderly spinster Miss Bromsey-Howard,

but when you see it, don’t hold your breath.

 

It’s tucked away at the rear of the pub;

just up the hill, and off to the right.

She never allowed anyone entry,

so prepare yourselves for a mighty fright.

 

The only form of heating you’ll find,

is by way of an ancient cast iron range.

And I advise you to visit in daylight,

as under your feet, will run creatures strange!

 

It’s where American soldiers found shelter,

and survived many a wartime air raid.

And where her mother entertained them lavishly,

whilst Bromsey-Howard was with his brigade!

 

The soldiers supplied ‘smokes’ to the villagers,

and kept the lassies in nylons, so fine.

And some said that Miss Bromsey-Howard,

was born with a yank through her spine!

 

So if you’re looking for a place historical,

and are prepared for many set-backs.

The price should be very agreeable,

if you can live with a good few, wise cracks!

 

 

September 29, 2014

 

 

Their thoughts

quite different,

as they stroll along

in mutual harmony.

No need for words;

each one quite

content with loves

silent rhapsody.

Although their talents clash,

they choose to agree to disagree;

giving space where needed,

as they stroll along

hand in hand,

in disciplined harmony.

 

 

 

September 24, 2014

Whilst listening to

the air so still,

that swirled around,

as if at will,

She heard a buzz

within her head,

and turned, and said,

‘Is that you, Ted?

 

That moment came

through the air so still,

from Ted, a reminder,

to forgetful Lil’,

that it was six weeks,

since he be dead,

and his beloved goldfish,

had not been fed!

 

That prompt, one of many

through the air so still,

(often telling her not

to forget her pill),

proved that the love,

felt by, her faithful Ted,

lived on beyond the grave,

and he was by her bed.

 

 

 

 

As dawn approaches and

the morning noises kick in,

and the body awakens

to the clang, of industrial din.

It is good to know that sleep

befell a cluttered mind,

and after hours of restlessness,

peace, was there to find.

 

Another day, another hope,

another flower to see.

Another prayer said quietly,

that free from grief we be.

As onward goes the fight

to heal the scars of time,

where signs now in evidence,

that we are past our prime.

 

Another day, one day at a time,

caught up in the daily grind.

Then a kettle boiling madly;

a pleasure so defined.

A cup of tea, a mug of tea;

the best start to the day.

Followed by the aroma of bacon,

to set us on our way.

 

 

 

 

A bond so strong is broken;

now the process of letting go.

Until we meet again, my heart,

no other love shall know.

 

 

 

 

Bright colours shine and dance like fire,

awakening dormant, past desire.

 

In duplicate, a wide division;

a trick that comes with double vision.

 

Yet heartache hidden, too cold to melt

a frozen block, that God’s hand dealt.

 

And all the weepers and the wailers,

stand by the dock, waving to their sailors,

 

Some may return, but no guarantee;

a fickle ruler, is that tempestuous sea.

 

No favouritism, no chosen one,

can escape their fate, from this day on.

 

So with saddened hearts they turn away,

as tears like rainfall force their way,

 

from welled up eyes, that almost say

‘Please bring my loved one, back someday’.

 

And in agony they homeward flock,

to sit-out the wait, for the dreaded knock,

 

at the door, by he, officially sent to say,

‘Forgive the news that I bring today.’

 

Though they pray each night on bended knee,

a homecoming re-union, there may never be.

 

And bright colours shine and dance like fire,

awakening dormant, past desire.

 

In duplicate, a wide division;

a trick that comes with double vision.

 

And heartache hidden, too cold to melt

the frozen block, that God’s hand dealt.

 

 

 

 

 

September 20, 2014

 

 

On the darkened path

to a fetish dream,

laid bare, emotions,

in agony scream.

 

When a brilliant brain

spinning out of control

seeks out mercy’s angels

who, half naked stroll,

 

around him,

menacingly tantalising,

in an awakened dream,

that left him fantasising.

 

(The power too great

at such a dizzy height.

The loneliness up there,

in towers of ivory white.

 

The expectation unreal,

at summit level.

Daunting is the path;

haunted by the devil.)

 

So for just one hour

they occupy his mind,

wrapping him in silken threads,

as his hands, they tightly bind.

 

And offered by the matrix;

life’s gas and air,

when pain too great, and life,

too much to bare.

 

Releasing pent-up stress;

so great the power.

Cometh the man,

cometh the hour.

 

‘Do with me what you will;

exploit my every whim.

Release my pent up stress.

Turn down the lights to dim’.

 

‘Too much, too much,

oh god, too much.

The sight of all that flesh

that I dare not touch’.

 

‘My own High Priestess;

the Ruler of the day,

make me sit and beg;

I promise to obey’.

 

‘Beat me to a pulp,

with your feathered wand.

I promise to be good.

I promise to respond.’

 

The supreme Goddess of Love,

bring me to my knees.

You have my heart and soul;

my only wish to please’.

 

Gone are unanswered emails

left for tomorrow,

in this world where dominance,

strips bare, life’s sorrow.

 

until strength found

once more, to carry on,

in this relentless world,

from where we’ll soon be gone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh the joy of a witness

when insanity strikes;

the convenient bystander

that no defence likes.

 

Oh the happiness felt

when support is around;

the willing comforter there,

when little sense found.

 

Oh the justice at last

when all looked but lost;

the angel in disguise

on a path indeed crossed.

 

 

 

 

 

And she the one

who favoured thrift;

a steadying oar,

when the boat adrift.

 

And she the one

who favoured caution,

and knotted ends

to life’s contortions.

 

And she the one;

a safe pair of hands,

who balanced the books

before final demands.

 

And she the one

who others took for a ride,

when in an act of greed,

committing, professional suicide.

 

And she the one

empowered by need,

took hold of the reins

and did succeed.

 

 

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