June 10, 2012

 

 

She wanted a staddle stone

for a head stone.

She was barmy

Hated anything smarmy!

 

And there it was-

A stone mushroom.

It looked bizarre

Hurrah

Her way of saying tarah.

 

It stood covered in moss,

near to a black granite cross.

So weird

So feared

 

Ungodly, unnatural,

but ‘so her’ to the end.

Never one to pretend.

She was a hell of a friend.

 

 

June 7, 2012

 

 

She always was quite different.

Her mind was so untamed.

From the womb she came screaming,

‘freedom’

Or, so her Mother claimed!

 

She always was so carefree.

Nothing really fazed her, ever.

She always had the solution.

In fact she was very clever.

 

She was on another planet,

to her normal fellow man.

She loved her moments of solitude,

which not many say they can.

 

You could never tie her down,

her heart, it was on loan.

She was generous to a fault,

but her time, it was her own.

 

I don’t know where she is now.

One day she just blew away.

But I’m better off for knowing her,

she makes me smile on a gloomy day.

 

 

May 15, 2012

 

 

To tell the truth, I lied before.

I didn’t think you’d get to know.

It simply was to save my skin.

But even so – it was a sin.

 

 

 

May 4, 2012

 

 

Yesterday a large mushroom

Appeared on their chair

It looked all forlorn

Just sitting there.

 

It was delivered by their neighbour,

A funghi to know.

He knows the difference between toadstools

And other things that grow.

 

It’s many a year since

These presents first appeared

They were younger then

Alarmed and somewhat feared!

 

 They knew he picked them for his wife

A pretty lady with much class,

He fried them up with bacon

To give to his bonny lass.

 

 So they watched and waited

And kept the mushrooms for a day.

Then peeped over the fence

To make sure the folks were OK.

 

They must have had their mushrooms

At breakfast, they knew.

And they still appeared cheerful

As good neighbours do.

 

 So with their worries over

They felt it was fine

To fry them with garlic,

Olive oil and red wine.

 

This season has been plentiful

With mushrooms by the score

One mushroom in particular

Was bigger than their door

 

So it is with many thanks

They say ‘Please bring them when you can’

Now their caring, generous neighbour

Is known as ‘The Mushroom Man’

 

April 29, 2012

 

 

It takes a while

To really fit in

Before you feel

Content within

 

It takes some time

To feel secure

And be at peace

And sure as sure

 

Slowly, you will

Get to know

The people,

As they come and go

 

Then one day

The newness gone,

With your friends

You feel at one.

 

There’ll be some,

More than others

Who you’ll feel,

Their friendship smothers

 

So keep your counsel!

Be on your guard.

And soon they will hold you

in high regard

 

 

 

April 20, 2012

 

 

It was never really over,

For there never was an end.

In a crisis they would get in touch,

They were still each other’s friend.

 

It wasn’t really unfinished business.

For sex had long since gone.

It was nice to have someone out there,

They could sometimes lean upon.

 

To meet would be foolhardy,

To love would be insane.

It’s a mistake in life to ever go back

And always ends in pain

 

But it’s nice to chat, every now and then

And bring each other up to date

Who knows what the future holds for them

No one knows their fate!

 

 

 

 

 

March 29, 2012

Sometimes in life we meet someone,

Who turns our world around,

By giving us back our self respect

And scraping us off the ground.

 

Sometimes in life we meet someone,

Who is really on our side.

And makes us feel complete again,

By giving us back our pride.

 

Sometimes in life we meet someone,

When our fortunes are running low.

And I’m glad that when it was happening to me,

That you I got to know.

 

 

 

In our lives we have lots of pals,

And acquaintances by the score.

I don’t suppose that we ever know,

Which of those we really bore.

 

But how many people

Can we really call our friend?

Who’ll support us through thick and thin

Right to the end?

 

A real friend will tell us that we are wrong,

Knowing that we will shout.

They’d rather be truthful and make us see sense,

Than see us look a fool – I’ve no doubt.

 

A friend can be candid but still remain loyal.

And at times drive us right round the bend.

But they’ll always listen at the drop of a hat,

And always our problems they’ll mend.

 

 

A true friend is priceless

A solid rock,

Upon whom we can always depend.

 

 

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