October 18, 2012

 

 

I visited her today, and was touched

by her engaging gentleness, her

request that I should hold her hand,

her look of love so approving that

said ‘I understand’

 

A passer by who seemed to know her,

said ‘Hello’ and asked who I might be.

She replied ‘I can’t remember his name,

but I know he’s a part of me’.

 

 

 

 

 

When all is said and done,

as decades travel on, the

mind reflects on happy times,

and confirms you are the one.

 

 

 

 

The forgiveness shone from his eyes.

His lingering blink spelt out defeat.

In this game of mindless competitiveness,

he was a push-over, so easy to beat.

 

 

 

October 16, 2012

 

 

The ‘speed daters’ are here

with their opinionated ooo’s and aaargh’s,

and us having no say in the matter,

sitting helplessly, caged behind bars.

 

 

 

 

Come to me, my wayward minstrel.

Rest your head against my chest.

Refuel your tank and find your equilibrium,

and in some ‘home time’ invest.

 

 

 

 

Talk her round, give her the

same old bull.

Promise her the moon, and a

glass that is always half full.

 

 

 

 

 

He took early retirement

to spend time with his wife,

but discovered that she

had an established life.

 

 

 

October 13, 2012

 

 

Never was anything so obvious,

so greatly overlooked.

Never was there anyone so

answerable, who should have

been taken to book.

 

All too late the alarm bells rang,

though some, it seems, knew all along,

and yet the most believable were

told their theories were wrong.

 

The impossibility of the situation!

Small voices too meek to protest!

The glamour surrounding the persona,

a wolf in sheep’s clothing was dressed.

 

Over his head hung a question mark,

each to a man, thinking the same,

yet no-one daring to be the whistle-

blower, leaving the perpetrator free

to exploit his game.

 

Common sense said it was happening,

an unease, was felt en masse.

At last the truth will be outed,

a reputation now shattered glass.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

October 11, 2012

 

 

Sitting them all in front of needle-less

sewing machines

is enough to make anyone think they are

losing the plot?

 

 

 

 

They just did it, and did it,

and did it some more,

til it ran it’s course –

both knowing the score.

 

 

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