January 22, 2014

 

 

I’m in my mothers head,

as my thoughts I re-arrange;

and am now paying the penance

for when I gave her short change.

 

I’m in my mothers mind,

understanding all too clear;

how without any intension,

I caused her many a tear.

 

I’m in my mothers’ world.

Through her eyes I now see;

how unconditional love,

for a child, just has to be.

 

 

 

 

The tune, ever reminiscent,

bringing a moment so sweet,

as memories flood back in an instant,

causing the foot to tap out the beat. 

 

Though the memory now has faded,

(the mind, sadly a recorder without a tape.)

wonderful times are somehow recalled,

that, as yet, haven’t found an escape.

 

 

 

 

 

Knowing how to be together

and to comfortably intertwine,

is worth more than riches could ever buy

and thankfully works for me and mine.

 

Knowing how to stay together

when others try forcing you apart,

takes a combined effort of achievement,

worth every beat of the heart.

 

 

 

 

 

Attention to detail has now

all gone to pot.

Slackness and sloppiness

in evidence, where once not.

 

A quick touch of paint,

a polish and dust,

now replaced by shabby chic,

full of woodworm and rust.

 

A tut-tut often heard

from a generation past,

as kids reclaim all the junk,

that was thrown out with aghast.

 

 

 

January 15, 2014

 

Two leaves that touched

then fluttered by

fell to earth

from treetops high.

 

Both without identity

though with finger prints,

and changing colours

of matching tints.

 

Perhaps there was hope

they could re-unite

with the help of a breeze

at the dead of night.

 

Maybe once again

their paths could cross

so as to build a life

on settled moss.

 

Not too long left

each knew they had

before in frost

they would be clad.

 

If only they could

think the same,

and shelter from

the pending rain.

 

What would each do

the other thought,

recalling the lessons

they had been taught.

 

Then, as if by magic

instinct came,

to both, at once –

each thought, the same.

 

 They both had seen

a nettle bush,

under which to sit

to avoid a crush.

 

One instinctively knew,

by now, that the other,

would float straight to it

for protective cover.

 

And two seconds after

the first landed there,

the other arrived

and they became a pair.

 

written by Harriet Blackbury

 

 

 

Don’t let him anywhere near your nibbles,

as his eyes will start to glow.

As soon as you put them on show,

he will sense them before you know.

 

He will grab handfuls of your do-dah’s,

as well as crisps, for which he’s yearned.

And to top that, your nuts he’ll snatch,

just as soon as your back is turned.

 

 

 

 

He was very musically minded,

from the day that he was born.

At nine he withdrew his savings,

and bought himself a horn.

 

He was very passionately inclined,

and did five children spawn,

then was forced to have the snip,

so back he went, to playing his horn.

 

 

 

 

One compensates

for the other.

It’s how couples

interact.

Each one taking

on separate

responsibilities

and drawing

on strengths

in a silent pact.

 

It’s how lasting

relationships evolve.

Each completing

their able task.

True; no two

marriages

are the same,

but the ones

that survive,

in glory bask.

 

 

 

 

 

 

With his future

hanging in the balance,

and the very next game

deciding his fate,

the referee makes

one wrong decision,

and the job’s bollocks’d;

all hope of fairness, too late.

 

 

 

 

 

He was known as

Uncle Erasmus,

and locals trusted

him with their life.

 

But a shadow,

ever watchful,

tracked him from

Bude to Fife.

 

A new identity

he had taken,

when first he

left his wife.

 

He lived in fear

of being exposed,

as his leaving

caused much strife.

 

 

 

 

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