September 1, 2013

 

 

It was Uncle Arthur’s

final bit on the side

that caused his marriage

to wobble and slide.

 

It didn’t help at all

that Aunt Ramona,

for most of her life,

had always known her.

 

They rode bikes together

as school girl chums,

and giggled in class,

and cheated at sums.

 

Little did she dream

that seventy years on,

Arthur would meet Alice,

who’s memory had gone.

 

They were in the same Care Home

sitting side by side,

holding hands across their chairs,

with Arthur’s marriage on the slide.

 

For long suffering Aunt Ramona,

this was the last of many

of Arthur’s wild philandering –

He now even called her ‘Jenny’!

 

‘The silly fool’ she thought

as she sat all alone

on the front seat of the bus –

Arthur’s ways, she couldn’t condone.

 

In a freezing, mucky bus shelter

she’d waited twice a week,

to visit Arthur and her school chum

sitting cosily cheek to cheek!

 

But with her own health now fading,

there no longer seemed the need,

to visit Arthur any longer,

though inside her heart did bleed.

 

 

 

 

August 27, 2013

 

 

It’s the bits

that fit in

the slits

that cause

the trouble.

 

It’s the hits

that stay

in the slits

that cause

the bubble.

 

It’s the gits

without

the wits

who grow

the stubble.

 

It’s the nits

who start

a blitz

that cause

the rubble.

 

 

 

 

The joy of hope ascending,

the doom of love descending.

The high of exhilaration,

the low of realisation.

The thrill of expectation

the hell of decimation.

 

 

 

 

Ill thought out plans

by menace’s

controlling our universe.

 

Instantaneous judgments

by lunatics

making matters worse.

 

 

 

 

Two halves in perfect harmony,

each giving of the other.

Yet, one is clearly undermined,

through control of another.

 

Two halves in equal symmetry,

each a copy of the other

Yet, one is bruised and battered

through bullying from a brother

 

Two halves existing side by side,

complete as Father and Mother.

Yet one accepts being over ruled

to pacify the other.

 

Two halves apart in separate worlds,

each respectful of the other.

Yet, keeping a workable distance

so as not, each other, to smother.

 

 

August 24, 2013

 

 

In the seconds before

the dream starts to fade,

recollect what you can,

of the sense that it made.

 

You will find a reason

why it came to call.

Take solace and comfort,

and love most of all.

 

It is but an angel,

sent on a mission,

to guide you along,

with your permission.

 

The choice to ignore it,

is yours all alone.

Though if you embrace it,

you make it your own.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Never lonely, never blue,

always thinking, just of you.

 

Never recovered from when you flew,

never moved on to pastures new.

 

Ever stronger my love grew,

the longer I was without you.

 

Never sad, nor did I rue,

decades thinking just of you.

 

Ever loyal, not did I woo

another love to replace you.

 

Never searching, ever true,

I found the best there was in you.

 

 

 

 

In a world where wisdom

came, alas, too late,

leaving blatant mistakes

theirs alone to contemplate.

 

And when lost leaders,

were never worth the wait,

and last minute changes,

only came to grate.

 

And when given the chance,

the opportunity wasn’t hatched,

as too much self bravado,

greedily, ego snatched.

 

With no Plan B in place

in case disaster struck,

in the end it all came down

to purely gamblers luck.

 

The dice were so unkind

and yes, also unfair.

In the game of self promotion-

you get nothing for a pair.

 

And now the journey over,

and so futile though it seems,

for at the time, the madness,

caused blindness in extreme.

 

Most onlookers departed,

each shaking a doubting head,

in united disagreement,

and then, in silence fled.

 

And in the end, exhilarated,

the devil took control,

as his victims lay defeated

and agony took it’s toll.

 

 

 

 

Do you want to meet up

in that shady nook,

where, as youngsters and lovers,

of love, we partook?

 

Do you dare to reopen

your memory book,

and relive times long forgotten

that on the back burner cook?

 

Or do you care to resist,

and not even look,

at that time, when as lovers,

of love, we mistook?

 

 

 

 

 

 

When a heart is already broken,

and the biggest loss in life has occurred,

one becomes almost bullet-proof,

lost in a world where feeling aren’t stirred.

 

For to function and operate normally,

and fit into the human race,

one has to act out the motions,

and appear with a smiling face.

 

And although the world keeps on turning,

and tries to gather one up in its wake,

one can only deal with grief in ones own way,

before coming to terms with ones heartache.

 

 

 

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