August 15, 2012

 

 

At the core of all this madness,

there is you.

My saviour and protagonist,

my lover and my rock.

The one who shares my burden,

and helps me to take stock.

 

At the centre of my world,

there you are.

Ever present, ever stable,

and there to take the flack.

The one who’s at the front line,

to guard me from attack.

 

 

August 11, 2012

 

 

 

Subtlety wasn’t her forte.

Tact was beyond her too.

She just jumped straight in with both feet,

as they squirmed and watched her stew.

 

 

July 27, 2012

 

 

Hiya, Sweetie, thanks for the note,

as usual, hand delivered!

You took the time to go outside,

when most of England shivered.

 

I got to thinking, that’s it’s been some time

since my poetic mind awoke!

We’ve been running hither and thither,

and inundated with folk.

 

Now that can be a blessing,

as I’m sure you know that’s true!

But in this crazy, madcap world,

there’s no time for what we want to do!

 

Everyone’s so heavily committed,

to trying to make a buck.

But after working flat out,

the rest is down to luck.

 

So at times when we go missing,

or retreat to staying in bed.

It’s simply because we’re knackered,

that word just popped into my head!

 

The luncheon was quite splendid,

and the ladies found you charming.

But when one asked you if you drove,

I did find that alarming.

 

Was she looking for a set of wheels,

to ferry her about?

She doesn’t know you’re 90,

of that, I have no doubt.

 

The speaker was very human

And in good ‘nick’ for his age.

His wife is nineteen years younger,

but to go into that – I’d need another page!

 

 

 

July 26, 2012

 

 

It was his choice to be

remote and unreliable.

He preferred to remain

uncontactable, depriving

the world of his wisdom

and energy.

He felt almost duty bound

to exist in an all encompassing

cocoon of ideology.

His complexity made him all

the more fascinating.

He was master of his artistry.

A deep and passionate thinker.

A beautiful person locked

within his own universe.

 

 

July 23, 2012

 

 

He sat on his backyard step every day,

smoking two cigarettes at once,

with a bottle of cider to hand.

He would hurl verbal abuse at

anyone who dared to pass by.

Sometimes he’d leap up and

dance around them, like the

devil possessed.

But he endeared himself to the

local folks who knew him to be

harmless.

Then one day he died.

And that back street

lost all it’s soul.

 

 

 

July 13, 2012

 

 

The words she said

came back to haunt me.

At the time I dismissed them

as futile and meaningless.

But the words she said

were profound and should

have been listened to.

 

 

July 9, 2012

 

 

Mourners and weepers,

and some not caring less,

joined forces together and

prayed for owd Tess.

 

 

 

Has the penny dropped yet?

Is the picture clear?

Do we have to spell it out?

Are you as thick as you appear?

 

 

 

 

Familiar accents

bring a tear to the eye,

for hometown yearnings

and times gone by.

 

True northern warmth,

never diluted by rain.

The place of one’s birth,

with love, floods the brain.

 

 

June 27, 2012

I knew him when he had nothing,

 and he was just a snotty nosed kid,

who played in the street with the rest of us,

and lost his marbles down the grid.

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