October 6, 2015

 

 

And in the rat holes of dismay,

where ferrets hunt out daily prey,

and gunshots loud, cause shivered spines,

and rabbits flea their safe confines.

 

No warren, a haven, when vicious terriers

set free to instinctively act as couriers,

and naïve pheasants, at a lazy pace,

become tomorrow’s captured brace.

 

With hunters pleading ‘they were born to be dead,

whilst irate Salvationist’s see mists of red.

Who’s right?   Who’s wrong? – Life’s down to luck.

But caught in the cross-fire, limps off one lame duck!

 

And in the Badger versus Bovine debate

so much now sorted; some say too late.

Whilst those with a differing point of view,

still up in arms, as sense and reason stew.

 

So If you’re a lifelong animal lover,

then step this way, but do take cover,

for bullets flying through the air,

cannot distinguish who is there.

 

The Country fox, long since, saw some sense,

and with his cubs, headed for, the urban fence,

to a safer environment, he felt was right;

snuggling up in a wheelie bin for the night!

 

 

 

 

 

 

The house is still standing;

I drove passed, only last year,

and wondered if my forgotten copy

of ‘The Water Babies’ was still in the loft.

 

The nightmare is still in there.

I remember the chair by the sideboard,

where I sat in despair; unable to focus,

too bewildered to care.

 

The past is still in there,

wrapped up in cobwebs, individually rare.

The house abandoned at speed

when bombshells fell out of night air.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh mind that sees me

short of rest,

in the wee small hours;

I do protest.

I need this time

to clear my head.

In the wee small hours

whilst in my bed.

 

Oh mind that keeps me

from shut eye,

in the wee small hours,

disturbed, I lie.

I need this time;

give me a break.

In the wee small hours,

for pity’s sake.

 

Oh mind that sends me

on the same dream,

in the wee small hours,

I awake and scream.

I need this time,

to keep my senses keen.

In the wee small hours

grant me, sleep serene.

 

 

 

 

For some reason which escapes me,

he drove us both to the railway station,

and as he opened the driver’s door,

it fell off and clattered to the ground. 

 

 

 

 

Don’t see them as ancient,

for their hand is outstretched.

Warmth still lives in their hearts,

though ‘time’ faintly sketched.

 

Don’t see them as lost

for they’ve found a way,

to cope with their lot;

every day’s a new day.

 

Take from them their knowledge;

be glad of their listening ear.

Treasure each moment spent,

whilst you still have them here. 

 

 

 

 

and history repeated itself,

as if the prototype had been cloned.

This being long before the electronic revolution,

so there was no-one home when he phoned.

 

 

 

 

She always preferred sitting on the floor,

as she liked to be near to her animals,

and they weren’t allowed on the furniture.

 

 

 

October 3, 2015

 

 

‘Son Of My Father’ – number one,

by Chicory Tip, in 72,

then much later Paul Hardcastle’s

‘Nineteen’, in 85 made it through.

 

Ruby Murray’s ‘Softly Softly’;

I can hear Granny singing now.

And with ‘Release Me’ and ‘The Last Waltz’,

Engelbert Humperdinck took a bow.

 

It’s Madness only one of their songs,

reached the desired top spot.

‘House Of Fun’ taking that accolade,

but 14 other top ten hits – real hot.

 

In 67, Procol Harum had us hooked,

with their ‘Whiter Shade Of Pale’,

and in 71 ‘Maggie May’ made sure,

Rod Stewart hot on the desired trail.

 

Those loyal Men at work from ‘Down Under’,

in 83, put the record straight.   

Then ‘Nothing’s Gonna Change My Love For You’,

sang America’s Glen Medeiros, in 88.

 

Kylie and Jason brought a gift,

‘Especially for you’, in 89,

as well as many separate number ones;

these two hit-makers still doing fine.

 

‘25 OR 6 TO 4’

in 70 made number 7,

but Chicago’s ‘If you leave me now’

6 years later reached, seventh heaven.

 

In 56, ‘Poor People Of Paris’

for Winifred Atwell came good,

and 63 saw ‘From Me To You’

start the Number one, Beatles flood.

 

All singers have a dream,

of making number one.

Sometimes it’s just the opening bar,

that in the memory lingers on.

 

Or a powerful, moving lyric,

that makes the heart swell,

ensuring that particular song,

all the others, will outsell.

 

 

 

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