Toms Poems.

                                                                                                     Toms Poems.


After each of the poems I put on this blog I will do a short write up just to explain it, if it is not obvious. The one below  does speak for its self, I think?

                                                                              1.

                                                                       The Poem.

                                                                        

I've always wanted to write, for people to read,

Not much to some, but it seemed to be my need.

 

So, what would I put, did I have something to say?

I didn't want the picture to be all too grey.

 

I could talk of my life, and things I have done,

That could be boring, and not please some.

 

Or be a story teller, and speak of my dreams,

But when on paper, it's not always as it seems.

 

What about the wrongs in the world, and to put them right,

It's a good idea, then again maybe not so bright.

 

What about poems, and to make words rhyme.

That's it, and to give no care for the time.

 

Some verses that I've have read in the past,

I find them hard to understand, right to the last.

 

I've tried to make these poems as simple as I can,

Maybe that's because, they come from a common man.

 

I hope you enjoy the words, as the pages you turn,

I had fun writing them, and also, I did learn.

 

                                                                    June 1988.      

                 

                                                                           2.

 

                                                                 The Albatross.      

                                                   

                     

It was in Southern seas that I first saw him glide,

He followed our ship, never trying to hide.

 

So graceful he looked as he flew to and fro,

Always knowing which way, he would go.

                                                                                                                                            

He never seemed tired or in need of a rest,   

Just as well, it was far from his nest.

 

Hardly a flap came from those long slender wings,

He had great ease of doing things.

 

As the sun went down on his back at night,

What a picture it made what a beautiful sight.

 

His wings were black his plumage white,

So those colours can live together and be all right.

 

Soaring so high he would fly for the sky,

Then dive to the sea as straight as a die.

 

He never stopped not even to eat,

But some of those fish would be his treat.

 

Two thousand miles we could be from land,

But that flying wonder never needed a hand.

 

How could God make such a creature as this?

Then give man a gun, just to kill for his bliss.

 

In those Southern seas he was always there,

I would like to think, he had not a care.

                                                            January 1985.    

This was inspired from when I used to travel to the Falklands, for two weeks by ship from Cape Town, South Africa, it was always there. It was almost hypnotic, I spent hours just sat watching it.   

                                                               3.

                                                  Sir Captain Tom.

                                            

We had never heard of him before the virus came,

But a hero he was already along with many others, who never came home.

He walked for the nurses, doctors and all those who had helped us so much.

Each day the country watched him go around and around.

He had such spirit and inspired so many when times looked so dark.

He sang a song, which got to the top.

He said “we would never walk alone,” and that we did not.

The whole world knew his name, and money came from everywhere.

He had a much-deserved sword put on his shoulders.

A very humble man who liked to laugh, and we laughed with him.

We didn’t know him for long, but he touched us all.

Rest in peace, Sir Captain Tom.

                                                         February 2021.

I wrote this poem when Sir Tom Moore died in February 2021. I think the words above say it all of what happened, but what an inspiration this great man was to so many. 

                                                                          4.

                                                     Does any of this make any sense?

                                                  

As I’ve walked though life things never cease to amaze me,

Each waking moment could bring a new surprise.

We can plan things we are going to do, then wake up one morning and find it has all changed.

New people come into our lives and this could be for good or bad.

Who knows what will come at us next?   

Never did those people think they would go up those twin towers for the last time that September morn.

But it’s up to us to make the most of life, as we never know when it will end.

Try to bring a little happiness to our fellow humans, to make people smile for a while.

We would have no problem spending billions on bombing an “unfriendly country.”

But we can’t feed half the world.

We put man on the moon a lifetime ago, yet in some places a family have to walk miles for a bucket of water.

We are meant to be intelligent and educated, yet we use that learning to kill each other.

When will we all understand that when we are cut, we all bleed red blood?

No mater what colour, race or creed we are, we should be given the chance to live in peace.

Life is for living and to enjoy, not to hurt others.

As the song goes “spread a little happiness as you go by,” try it today, you may feel good.

                                                                            October 2002. 

I wrote this about a year or so after 9/11, it is now January 2022 and things don’t seem to be much better in the world, in fact at times I think things are worst. Will we ever be able to live together in peace? We can all live in hope. 

                                                                                        5.

                                                                            The Abduction.                                                                                                

                                                          


My first day at school was one I’ll never forget,

For not many four-year olds had to be dragged, I’ll bet?

 

I wasn’t hurting anyone by playing at home all day,

I had made believe friends with whom I would play.

 

Then the bombshell dropped when my Mum said to me,

“It’s school tomorrow,” what a shock, no longer would I be free.

 

I protested a lot, and said she was interfering with my human rights,

Not really, I just cried a lot and that was out of fright.  

 

I sobbed in bed that night, thinking my world had come to an end,

And what was this rubbish about the best time of my life and meeting new friends?

 

I ask you, what did my Mother know of such things as this?

I would use plan ‘A,’ as I was about to resist.

 

I would refuse to get dressed that very next morn,

Better still, hide my cloths before the dawn.

 

But that fell though as the shelf I could not reach,

Was I really to be taken away, for them to teach?

 

A uniform was put on me, with much a-to-do.

Maybe I was going to prison and not to school?

 

My Mum had her own plan, as I lay stiff on the floor,

She got her heavy, Mrs Field from next door.

 

They picked me up, as by arms and legs I was caught,

But you’ll be pleased to know, every inch of the way I fought.

 

Oh, the panic that went though me as the big gates got near,

I would never see my home again, that was now the fear.

 

Into the classroom I kicked and screamed as I was not being coy,

And how dare that teacher to tell me, “you are being a silly little boy.”

   

When was the last time two roughens came and took her away?

What did she know of my plight, to her I would like to say?

 

And as if enough disasters had not befallen me that day,

On top of all that, my Mother left me and went away.

 

And would you believe that the talk was of dolls, as next to a girl I was sat,

She didn’t want to hear of my abduction, so I told her she was fat.

 

I did try to escape but found I could not, 

But by me, that first day will never be forgot.

                                                                     October 1984.

I think the poem above says it all. I may have used a bit of “poetic licence,” but over all it is not far from the truth. My Dad died when I was 4 (1956) and we moved to west London, Bedfont, Middlesex from south London. I had two older sisters, and my Mum had to work, so that was it, I had to go to school. When looked back at that day I realised just how bad I had been, so this is me taking the 'micky' out of myself, I deserved it. But as I said, by me, that first day will never be forgot!  

I think I may have felt like the person in the photo above.    

                                                                       6.

                                                         The Virus – Part 1.

                                                             

 Where did it come from?

We have been told a country, but none of us was expecting this!

Life was normal, well as normal as life could be.

Then all of a sudden it changed, possibly for ever.

Food hard to get, last seen mainly when bombs were dropping.

People queuing for everything and of course toilet rolls.

Governments have made mistakes,’ but this is the unknown.

Lockdown has been so hard for so many, “not another day of this!”

Mental health for many has been pushed to its limit, and beyond.

Lots of people have left us, many far too soon.

As for those who ask the questions, they say on our behalf!

My answer to that is, we heard more negatives than positives.

And asking the same question many times over.

People walked many miles, but didn’t get far, but raised much needed money.

We came to know what Zoom was, as we chatted with loved ones.

Most of us did as we were told, but of course there are those who will never do that.

Many jobs disappeared, some maybe never to be seen again.

We had the unsung heroes, which came in many forms.

They sat by beds, gave us food, kept the peace, and much more, but many paid the ultimate price.

We have seen many bad things in our lifetimes, but nothing like this invisible assailant.

                                                               April 2020.

                                                                       7.

                                                         The Virus – Part 2.

                                                       

 How long will this go on for, when will it end?

Will it ever end?

A New Year has come, but not much to cheer.

Christmas was cancelled until another year.

Holidays are forgotten as we watch the snow fall.

We would like to feel the sun again.

Here we are in ‘Lockdown Three.’

It is now sounding like a film trilogy.

They say there is light at the end of the tunnel,

Let’s hope it not a train coming the other way!

Vaccines have been made.

But now our neighbours across the sea are moaning who gets it first.

Have they got the hump, as we are not in their gang anymore?

Do you think life will ever be the same again?

How many tiers will we have to go through,

Before we can have a beer, without a substantial meal?

So many things had been taken for granted in the past?

To hug, kiss or shake a friend’s hand.

Or just to sit and talk about the load rubbish that we used to.

This will end, we don’t know when at the moment, but end it will,

Let hope we can all meet when that time comes!

                                                        January 2021.

                                                                 8.

                                                     The virus – Part 3.

                                                     

I can’t believe another year on and I writing one of these again.

Christmas and New Year have come and gone.

Not as bad as the one before, but still not good.

If we wanted to meet, we had to be negative not positive.

As a rule, the good side of that is the other way around.

Many people did the right thing, and got the needle.

Unfortunately, there are many, who have the needle, about having the needle.

They think they know best.

As for the people who make the rules.

Let’s say it seems there is one for us and many another’s for them.

It has been almost two years.

At the start our main man said, “it would be over by Christmas!”

But which one? That he is yet to divulge.

In a short time, we have seen many things we have not before.

We had the “pingdemic.”

This made many turn the app off.

The last thing they want is a ping, then no work to pay the bills.

We had some people who must think they are the most important in the world.

As these rules do not apply to them!

We have had many different strains of this virus.

It comes from many places around our globe, which one is next?

People want to fly away.

But that may leave them in a hotel they do not want, or afford!

Again, we have lost so many, too soon!

I want to believe that I will not be doing one of these next year.

But who knows, I may see you then?

 

                                                       January 2022.

There is not a lot more I can say that I have not said above. I did say to someone once, "I am totally fed up with this now." And they said, "don't you think we all are?" They didn't need to take it personally.

     I will say it again, lets hope I am not doing this, this time next year. As they say, fingers crossed.

                                                                  9.

                                                                     Love.

                                                             

 
What is love? It can take many forms.                                                                                                        

Love as a Mother, Father or brother and sister,                                                        

it can be of something we enjoy,

Going fishing, playing golf, driving our car.

Or even wearing that old hat or coat that we love.

It could be for that favourite place.

A place we love to be, to sit or walk, to look around.

It maybe of a drink, a wine or a food we love to taste.

We mostly think of love for another person, again, many forms this may take.

To be in love with a person can be one of the greatest things in our life.

To have that person on your mind all day,

To be on another planet when you think of them, talk to or see them.

You want to do things for them, be with them, care for them,

To make them feel safe.

If that feeling is returned it can put you on cloud nine.

But to feel this way and it not returned, can make you feel so very low.

If you have told them expecting great news back and it does not come,

A bigger fool you could never feel.

Is it an embarrassment, it seems like one is wearing one’s heart on their sleeve?

In some cases, a person can fall in love with another very fast.

For others it has to grow, and that can take years.

The worst kind of love must be for another who we cannot tell.

Never let them know how we feel.

Love should be a thing of joy, something for us to behold.

But there again a person who has never made a mistake,

Has never done anything.

Love can take many forms; I hope you feel one, at some time or another.

                                                                   May 2002. 

I thought we should lighten the mood a little after the last three poems.

                                                                         10.

                                                  I am Only a Volunteer!

                                                   

“I am only a volunteer,”

That is what these people say.

Let’s have a look at what some of these people may do.

They could be on the end of a phone, when a person sees the end in sight.

They could be by an ambulance when the goals go in on a Saturday afternoon.

They could turn up at a person’s door when a victim needs support.

They could feed people when they have got no home.

They could be in a court to send bad people away.

They could be on a boat at a poor country and give aid too many people.

They could be out in the cold helping people get their jab.

They could shop for a person who cannot do it their self.

The list goes on and on.

This country, possibly the world?

Would be on its knees without the people who say,

“I am only a volunteer!”

                                                              December 2021.

Again, I think it the words say it all. As someone once said to me, “once a volunteer always a volunteer!"

                                                                         11.

                                                             How Lucky I am?

                                                     

Oh, I have that job to go to tomorrow, people say.

Well at least that person has a job, with money coming in.

 

Oh, it is so cold here in the UK this winter.

There are some places in the world where people can not go out that time of year.

 

Oh, how the NHS is so poor, I had to wait so long.

There are many places where you have no money, you have no doctor.

 

Oh, I am fed up with this country, I will go in the street and protest.

A person can do that here, go to some counties and do that, and see what happens.

 

Oh, I am fed up with that car of mine, but can’t afford another.

In some places people have to walk many miles to work, for very little.

 

Oh, I am so fed up with our politicians.

At least we were able to vote them in.

 

We all moan and groan about things, some more than others.

But we are very lucky to have been born here or counties like this.

 

                                                           December 2021.

I look at things around the world and I am very happy with living in the UK. If I could change one thing about this country, which I can’t, it would be the weather, warm all year around!

                                                                             12. 

                                                                 A Glint in the Sky.

                                                          

A giant beam of light did shine from the sky,

The morning sun did peak though the clouds so high.

 

How bright it did shine on the glens so green,

Dew did sparkle like a great diamond ring.

 

Then out of the clouds like a jet fighter plane,

Towards the ground that golden eagle came.

 

As if it would crash he dived so low,

Then made for the sky as he flew to and fro.

 

How graceful he looked as he circled around,

But that large hooked bill will grab things from the ground.

 

And as for those piercing eyes, they are really so keen,

There’s little he’ll miss below in the green.

 

Large broad wings will take him on a long soaring flight,

For he will be in search of pray until the last light.

 

When the sun it shines, his golden plumage will glint,

With one quick turn he will spark like flint.

 

Don’t dare to challenge, as he is very strong,

Yet when he glides he is like a sweet love song.

 

With claws that resemble a sharp cutting knife,

His foe is lucky to escape with their life.

 

He has been a symbol of power for many a year,

You can understand why, as he shows no fear.

 

It’s only fitting that a creature as majestic as this,

Should grace a land that has known such bliss.

 

                                                                     May 1988. 

I wrote this after seeing a documentary on TV about the eagle  and was so very impressed.

                                                                           13.

                                                             From Start to Finish

                                                          

Many a mile we had sailed from land,

With the task ahead, we hoped God was at hand.

 

We had left our families on a tearful day,

All because we wanted to earn some pay.

 

Long days at sea, no sign of life,

Made one think , of family and wife.

 

We were heading for a southern shore,

Where not long before, had seen battle roar.

 

Men had come and men had died,

Now it was our turn, no time to hide.

 

Would we make it or would we fail?

That we would find out, as we took to the trail.

 

The first day that I saw that wind-swept land,

I thought to myself, this isn’t so grand.

 

Land before that had only seen cattle and sheep,

Now they would have giant tracks running past their feet.

 

 But there was work to be done no time to spare,

Let’s build roads, the foreman said with a glare.

 

Virgin soil was turned by day,

Then we sat and drunk some of our pay.

 

We would laugh and cheer, we all looked pleased,

But deep down inside we had other needs.

 

But those thoughts had to be put to one side for now,

As there was an airfield to be built, and they had said we knew how.


Some days were warm some very cold,

But that cutting wind was bound to make you look old.

 

We built a new camp so we could all live together,

But some of those men would bring you to the end of your tether.

 

And as for some was it their first time away from home,

Poor things looked like a dog that had just lost its bone.

 

Then we had the suited men, who said they would make us rich,

Well let’s just say they got up to some dirty tricks.

 

Give us all you have got they would say,

We’ll do things for you, you won’t forget this day.

 

But empty promises were soon forgot,

They were just happy to get their lot.

 

The summer was gone when the snows they came,

And my word chilled feet can give much pain.

 

Long cold days and freezing nights,

The end of this job seemed well out of sight.

 

So, work we did, and time went fast,

We looked to the future and forgot the past.

 

But the pressure was on, the job had to be done,                                              

So, there wasn’t time to have much fun.

 

Mental and physical pain was felt by some,

While others looked on as if they were dumb.

 

As time got nearer we worked day and night,

Things had to be done for that in coming flight.

 

When toil was done the plane it landed,

Let’s drink to success, the glass was handed.

 

You’ve done a good job the boss said with a grin,

But did he expect us to take all that in?

 

We had done as we had been asked; it was time to go,

So, bags were packed this was the end of our show.

 

There were many memories none to be forgotten,

Some were good, but others rotten.

 

The island had seen change lets even hope gain,

But let’s be fair, it will never be the same.

 

We got our pay it was time to be jolly,

But would any of this ever of happened, but for one mans folly?

                                                                      March 1985

This was the poem I wrote while I was working in the Falkland Islands, from December 1983 until April 1985. It is also in my book, The Lads from the Pleasant 'B' Team.

                                                                              14.

                                                         T I A B. (This is Africa Baby)

                                                               


 We meet at field base on a sunny day,

We had come to work, without any pay. 


We worked inside and out, as we had to train,

Just as well this time of year there would be no rain.

 

We had long hot days and freezing nights,

When the ventures would arrive seemed well out of sight.

 

But arrive they did and many came.

We played icebreakers and many a game.

 

We were told the rules we had to obey,

This is what you must do, is what they did say.

 

And as for sex drugs and rock and roll,

Dai did say, no man no!

 

With our new charges under our wing,

We set off to the projects, it was time to sing.

 

For a trek in that hot sun you would need no coat,

But be careful, you don’t end up like a mountain goat.

 

We built an elephant dam and a brand-new school,

And the kids they’re thought it was, “cool man cool.”

 

Toilets, fire towers and poachers’ lodges all went up,

There was no time to sit on your arse, as we had to be tough.

 

Most of the ventures were really good fun,

But there was the odd few that it wouldn’t hurt to give a good kick up the bum.

 

Much work was done in a country that to us its people had been so kind,

So, let’s hope that something worthwhile has been left behind?

 

When I leave no more Soya will I consume,

And when I sit on a real toilet, I will hum a happy tune.

 

I won’t be sorry to go home when it all ends,

But one thing I have got, is a lot of new friends.

 

                                                                        July 2002. 

This poem was from the 3 months I spent in Namibia South West Africa with Raleigh International. The photo above is at the school where we built two new classrooms and a store. 


                                                                               15.                                                        

                                                                  The Wilderness.                                                

                                                             

How long had I been walking in this wilderness?

I don’t know, weeks months, years? It had been a long time.

With hot gritty burning sands below my bare feet, rocks that cut and the yellow ball in the sky that burned my back.

I had come across oasis and had the odd rest.

I met other people, we chatted then went our different ways.

I knew I had to keep going, to where I was not sure, but to stop for too long would be to give up and that I could not do.

Vultures were above me in the sky just waiting for me to fall, so keep going I did.

For many miles I kept walking mainly with my head hung low.

Then one day out of the blue I looked up and saw you in front of me.

I ‘am not sure what made me think you were the right person to walk with, was it your smile, the pretty face the happy chat, I don’t know maybe all, but right I knew it was.

We stopped and talked, laughed and had some fun, before I knew it we had started to walk together.

The walking was still not easy but now I knew that if I tripped over a rock I had you to help me up.                                                                                                               

We walked for many miles and as we shared our fears and worries of being in the wilderness alone, then journey became easier.                                                            

Was it the helping hand we gave each other or was it the arm around the shoulder, or just knowing we were there for each other.

Wrapped up in our joy for the other we did not notice at first, but the hot sand had turned to soft cool grass below our feet.

We stood and looked at the town before us, was this the end of journey together?

As we looked into each other’s eyes we knew the answer.

Good things should not come to an end if it can be helped.

No this was now the start of a new journey, together, on into the town and beyond to take up new challenges that lay before us, together. 

                                                                              March 2001.

This poem came from talking to a person who's marriage  had broken up and they were on their own for some time, they found it very hard and likened it to being in a wilderness. They then met a person who was in a similar situation. They then, "walked together!"

                                                                                        16.

                                                                           The Lonely walk.

                                                                      

For work I have trundled for many a mile,

And sore fingers I got, after jobs I did dial.

 

That walk can be lonely, tiresome and long,

It would be easy to give up, but you have to be strong.

 

But one thing keeps coming back to mind,

No work tomorrow, and that's not so kind.

 

Buy papers galore, and scour the pages,

All you want is to earn some wages.

   

In rain and snow, you have to walk,

Oh, just for someone for you to talk.

 

How boring it is with no reward,

A monotonous task it could well be called.

 

But trudge, trudge, trudge, you have to keep on,

Sometimes it helps to hum a song.

 

"Sorry sir, no vacancies this week,"

To ask, they think you have a cheek.

 

It's always nice to have a lay in bed,

But it's not so good when there's mouths to be fed.

 

But it's nice when there's someone you know that loves you,

It helps to have a person like that who will see you through.

 

There can be two, three, four million or more,

But when it you, oh boy can it be sore.

 

You have to keep on, as you never know what's around the next bend,

Just keep going, as I ' am sure you'll come through it my friend.

                                                                    April 1985.

I wrote this in the days when I had to go out looking for work. I haven't  had to do it for a long time, and I think it is different these days with agency's and the internet etc. But I still remember those long "lonely walks."

                                                                          17.

                                                                    The View.

                                                            

I sit in the shade of the balcony above,   

I laze and watch the things that I love.

 

The ocean beyond, is so deep and wide,

On the sands the children play on the slides.

 

Big ships, small ships, they sail to and fro,

I am always wondering where they will go?

 

An old man walks he walks his dog on the beach,

He may leave something that will make you retch.

 

The sun it beams down on ice cream that will run,

A greedy tongue licks it up to go in their tum.

 

Waves lap in, as legs they go, jump,

Miss their landing and they will come down with a bump.

 

Courting couples, they walk hand in hand,

Then stop and write “I love you,” down in the sand.

 

Kick-kick-kick, balls go up in the air,

Fly-fly-fly, the room with kites, they will also share.

 

Arms of a swimmer go around like a fast paddle boat,

He passes his friend, who’s just happy to float.

 

Eyes they pop, as a young lady takes off her tube,

Then she stops, realizing she may be making a boob!

 

Young men they pose with bodies all tanned and brown,

And they all seem to think they are the best in town.

 

The deck chairman comes around for ten pence to sit,

A lady nips in front, for to pay, she would have a fit.

 

The sun it goes down, the crowds drift away,

They’ve had their fun, it’s been a nice day.

 

I lay back and sip at my cup of tea,

I’ve had fun today, and its all been for free!

                                                               September 1987.

I suppose this is me doing a little bit of dreaming. When we go away on holiday we always try and get a hotel room with a balcony near the sea. Very relaxing.

                                                                          18.

                                                                      Apples.

                                                           

The sun it shone on a summer’s day,

When two little boys went off to play.

 

Would it be cricket, a game in the park?

No, it was off to scrump apples, just for a lark.

 

Down, sun kissed lanes, for the orchard they were bound.

When doing their work, they would have to make not a sound.

 

From the gate, inside they did peer,

One gave the wave that the coast was clear.

 

The two young bandits nipped between the trees,

The were looking for windfalls, amongst the leaves.

 

Apples were gathered into greedy little arms,

They didn’t know they were about to have an alarm.

 

For the farmer was coming along their way,

So, it wasn’t long before little legs were running away.

 

Apples went tumbling as they made their way to the gate,

Had they have been caught, it wouldn’t have been so great.

 

Later they ate apples as they sat by the lake,

But the next day, guess whose bellies did really ache? 

                                                                      June 1989.

This poem may be about some young lads I heard about , when I was young?

                                                                             19. 

                                                                    The riverside.   

                                                       

The sun it twinkled on that sparkling water,

A swan floated past, and did not falter.

 

The banks were lined with lush green grass,

Plants and flowers were growing, and bees buzzing fast.

 

The shade of that old oak kept me cool,

One or two leaves were about to fall.

 

Fishes they jumped with a look of greed,

I think they were looking for a little feed.

 

The silence was broken by a small motor boat,

A fisherman laid back, and watched his float.

 

A small fellow popped his head out of his house,

Then in a flash he was gone, was that a mouse?

 

Two lover they walked in a sweet embrace,

I see a squirrel vanish, without a trace.

 

I lay back, as it is nice to just laze,

How peaceful it is here, to sit and gaze.

                                                                      July 1988.

I hope the words above say it all, what it is like to just have a relaxing time in the sunshine.

                                                                             20.  

                                                                  Trip of a lifetime.

                                                  

The world we live in is a beautiful place,

Now let’s forget the troubles and others people’s race.

 

Many of us will see little of it, and that may be our fate,

So, close your eyes and come with me, quick before its too late.

 

We’ll cross the Channel and stop in gay Parie,

Look at the Eiffel Tower, and other wonders you will see.

 

In Amsterdam you could walk among the tulips in a field,

Smell the air with perfume it is filled.

 

There’s the splendour of the Alps, the glaciers go up high,

The snow-covered peaks that almost touch the sky.

 

In Venice we can see the arts, and treasures, that the Italians keep with pride,

Then lay back in a gondola, as on the canals we take a ride.

 

It’s time to take a rest, upon a beach in sunny Spain,

Or look out in disbelief at the vast and open plains.

 

Now we put to sea, as we cross the North Atlantic,

The Big Apple is where we land, to see their latest antics.

 

Life goes so fast there, at such a hairy pace,

It takes some keeping up with, if you join that crazy race.

 

We head out West, across some dry and dusty land,

There’s a Canyon below, and yes, it is that Grand!

 

In San Francisco there are hills and marvellous sights,

And that Golden Gate, how it shines with all it’s lights.

 

Let’s go down South to where the Aztecs used to rule,

They wouldn’t know it now, with the buildings, oh so tall.

 

The West Indies next, without which this would be incomplete,

 Palm trees, sea and golden sands, for me this is treat.

 

A long river, we’ll sit upon its banks, as we turn up in Brazil,

The birds and their colours will give you such a thrill.

                                                                                                         

 Deep down South and around the Horne, those winds can blow a gale,

Now we’re North West bound across the sea, again we’re on the trail.


There’s a giant flat top mountain to greet us, as we roll up on the shore,

Let’s go up country and we’ll see wild animals galore.

                                                                                                       

There’re those vast falls, and the lake that runs out below,

You could see the fishes, as they swim in and out the flow.

 

Now to the Valley of the Kings, their riches they do hide,

We can stand and look, but will not go inside.

 

Back to sea again, to find some Kangaroo,

That Opera House, and a big giant bridge, you may give out a coo.

 

Back up in Asia, there’s much to see and do,

We could ride upon a rickshaw, that’s just for me and you.

 

We could see the Tai, and the Great Wall, and stop off in Tibet,

There’s a mountain near, you co   uldn’t climb, I wouldn’t mind a bet.

 

Last on the trip, is a sometimes cold and snowy land?

We’re in Red Square, but it’s time to go, so hold me by the hand.

 

We’re home again, in God’s green and pleasant land,

We saw some lovely sights; you can really say is grand.

 

Many places we did not see, but it gives me a thrill,

Now my wish to you, is one day you’ll go for real.

                                                                     September 1985.

We live in a wonderful world, when we are not fighting each other! This was just my idea of a bit of fun to see some of these places. 

                                                                                21.

                                                                             Work!

                                                          

It was seven o’clock that wet and windy morning,

Phil got on his bike; he was sleepy and also yawning.

 

Some miles away his boss was about to start his day,

For him it was the ‘Financial Times’ and breakfast on a tray.

 

When he arrived at work, Phil was soaked to the skin,

He had worked late last night and had whiskers on his chin.

 

Clean-shaven his boss climbed into his brand-new car,

His legs would not ach because he had peddled too far.

 

Old rags Phil did don for his work on the site,

Fr there was concrete here, and it was not yet light.

 

In the office with ease the man he did go,

And to the girls he had a new car to show.

 

With much to do, what was rain and what was sweat?

All Phil knew it was early yet, and that he was so wet.

 

Now for the boss, he was to take in lunch today,

After the wine he wouldn’t be to grey.

 

By the time dinner came, our friend, was in need of a rest,

But there was far more to be done, which would put him to the test.

 

The ‘Subie Boss’ was now in a daze,

He turned up on site, his eyes all a glaze.

 

Phil had to see him, as more money he needed

But the words that he begged were just not heeded.

 

“I just can’t afford to give you more,” the boss he did say,

“Oh, the new car, is just for less tax to pay.”

 

“And as for the race horse?” Oh, that’s just a hobby for the wife,”

Phil wishes he could have that kind of strife.

 

His day it ends and he is back on his bike, in the rain that is still pouring,

Then it’s home to baby-sit, that no doubt would be boring.

    The boss is rushed by his wife, as they mustn’t be late for the do,

But when he holds out the new dress he brought her it makes her coo.

 

Phil gets a kiss from his wife, who is off to work to make ends meet,

He then sits down to soak his sore and aching feet.

 

One was born to rule, the other to be ruled,

But they’ll both be the same, when to heaven they are called.   

                                                                              May 1985.       

This may come across as very cynical of me, but it is very true of things I had experienced and had heard about. Also bearing in mind I wrote this close to 40 years ago. Have things changed much? You tell me?   

                                                                                       22.

                                                                          Chalk and Cheese.    

                                                                     

There’s a country far off, with a large rock on its southern shore,

How majestic it looks, if you have never seen it before.

 

It covers a land that looks lovely and grand,

But don’t be fooled, unless you have seen it at first-hand.

 

It’s a land that is so prosperous, one could even say rich,

So why is it that some are so poor, they have to sleep in a ditch?

 

Who has the right to say a person is second class?

And have they had a chance? You would be right to ask.

  

Nine times out of ten they have had none at all,

Because of what they were born, they didn’t get a good school.

 

One has it all, and is it really their land?

The other has roots, but has to hold out their hand.

 

If you have flown across there in the big silver bird,

“Look at the right,” the pilot you would have heard.

 

“There’s an opencast mine, down there below,

But don’t look to the left, as them we don’t want to know!”

 

Some rabbits must have better hutches than them,

So, this rule they have, we should all condemn.

 

It’s like chalk and cheese to see how they all live,

Peace is a gift to them, I would like to give.

 

It’s about time we all got together to unite,

Because the colour of our skin, does not make it right.

 

Cut any race and red blood is what we will bleed,

So, let’s try and live together, with you I plead.

 

When the clouds cover that mountain so high,

It may just be because, it’s giving a sigh.

                                                                                                             May 1984.  

I wrote this when I was working in the Falkland Islands, we had travelled  through South Africa, which at the time (1983) was under the rule of  apartheid. This has gone now (2022), since the early 1990's but it left a very deep impression on me, which was not good, as I hope you can tell from this poem. 

                                                                                                                   23.                                                                  

                                                                                                                Karen.

   

It's a beautiful thing to hear a baby cry,

They are saying, "I am alive," it's not a sigh.

 

I once saw a beauty a sleep on a bed,

She had big blue eyes and blonde hair on her head.

 

She gave a small moan and a look of greed,

I suppose she was thinking, where is my feed?

 

As time went by, day by day she did grow,

If only we then we knew her secret, we now know.

 

Her brain may not have been the same as a child of her age,

But to hear anyone say she was different, would fill you with rage.

 

She may not have able to run, jump or leap,

But like all of us, she was one of God's little sheep.

 

So why do we have to label people these days?

Because in her world she was happy in her ways.

 

She would never cause pain, hurt or kill,

Unlike her so-called betters, who would, just for a thrill.

 

One day she was taken not so well,

The tears in our eyes, they started to swell.

 

Then God's angels came and took her to play,

Now she is in his garden and is happy and gay.

 

The time she was with us may not have been all bliss,

But she was well loved and cared for, take joy in this.

 

So please don't mock such a person as this,

Give them a big hug or even a kiss.

 

This may all sound sad, but no need to cry,                                                     

But do remember, but for the grace of God, there go I.

 

                                                                                                        April 1988.       

This was a poem I wrote for my niece Karen, who passed away on the 1st of August 1970 at the age of 8years. I hope the words say it all?  

                                                                                                              24.


                                                                                                    The Hidden Jewel.         

                                                                                                 

The palm trees ringed the lagoon so clear,

Sun danced on the surface, the peace you could hear.

 

Like a mirror, that eye of the heavens bounced back to the sky,

And deep below in her bed that oyster did lay..

 

She had a rough hard irregular shaped shell,

But warm inside her a grain of sand did start to swell.

 

Two hinged valves will guard that little gem,

And the Mother is soft enough for both of them.

 

Like a new skin its layers will start to grow,

Then in time, like a beacon it shall glow.

 

When fully grown a Kings ransom it may collect,

For this mollusc gives a gift that would grace the most elegant of necks.

 

Its brilliant gloss resembles the Northern Lights,

And similar to ice it may shine so bright.

 

And as for that hard exterior, it will soften any heart,

For given in kind, it will make its mark.

 

That miracle below must be a gift from above,

For the way it is made, it does show much love.

                                                                                                              June 1986.

                                                                                                                  25. 

                                                                                                       Ships in the night.

 

       

Two ships may pass in the dead of night,

Just give out a toot, then vanish from sight.

 

The crews may never know who the others are,

Like two people may meet, then drift off afar.

 

That chance encounter may occur at an unexpected time,

And why to you? There's no reason or rhyme.

 

Eyes could meet, followed by a smile so shy,

Or a small chat that gives a twinkle in one’s eye.

 

At that moment harps will play in heaven above,

For you will know that you have found your love.

 

Love at first sight is not always a good thing,

But like a beautiful choir your heart could sing.

 

Signs and signals will be made oh so clear,

Feel that knight within you, that knows no fear.

 

Your heart will beat like a base drum in a band,

And you may feel a fool when back to earth you land.

 

Then like those ships, you will pass along your way,

And upon that cloud, you will no longer stay.

 

When the facts sink in of what might have been,

You pulse rate will quicken, put your head in a spin.

 

At one time in your life this may happen to you,

It's a moment to savour, should this come true.

 

                                                                                           November 1990.    

                                                                                                       26.

                                                                              

                                                                                 Global Warming.

“We’ll be alright,” this was said for many years.

“Oh, it is just extra rain, or a long hot summer.

But as the years have gone on we know this is not the truth.

People are saying we must do things before it is too late.

Many would say "it already is!"

The top people came to a COP, to sort it out,

But they come in jet planes and one had 85 cars!

There are places in the world where rivers are killing many.

And fires are destroying everything in front of it.

Yet they still dig the ‘black gold’ out of the ground.

Which makes the skies above so dark that it starts to cry!

When will it end? Some say we have only got two hundred years left?

I would like to think that will not be the case.

We can all work together so that it will change.

But to do that, we must think of others, and not just ourselves.

 

                                                                                  November 2021.

There is not a lot more to say than I have above.

                                                                                           27.

                                                                        

                                                                                          Thief of the night.    

 

The sun goes down as the evening it dawns,

Dark will come, as night it looms.

 

Front doors are locked for sleep ahead,

Young ones are safely tucked into bed.

 

Like a blanket from above, silence covers the town,

Shower drops hit the flowers, but does not drown.

 

All is now quiet, not a sound is heard,

Not even by a small flying bird.

 

But not all is asleep, as there’s movement around,

In the woods beyond, something moves in the ground.

 

Two eyes look out to survey the far-off scene,

The thief of the night crawls out of the green.

 

Four little paws they pound towards a near bin,

Give him a few seconds, and he’ll be in.

 

He stretches aloft to nudge up that lid,

Bang! It toppled over, as on it he slid.

 

Gradually he inches towards his prey,

That half-eaten bird will be his meal the next day.

 

A sudden noise stops him dead in his tracks,

Good hearing is not a thing that he lacks.

 

He looks at that ginger Tom with such a glare,

It’s a look to say, “have a go, if you dare!

 

With a look of contempt, the Tom passes into the night,

I wonder what he will get up to before the light?

 

After that disturbance, he decides it may be best to go,

As he wouldn’t like to lose his prize to any foe.

 

He turns and vanishes like the speed of light,

Then our thief, he disappears into the night.

 

                                                                                                             July 1989.       

I wrote this after a fox in our garden at the time caused us and neighbours a lot of  trouble at nights.


                                                                                                          28. 

           

                                                                                         Whose lives do we touch?

 As we walk through life, we meet many different people.

Some for a while, some for not so long.

For some it may seem when we have passed, that nothing has changed.

But that is not always the case.

Sometimes we know, if we or someone changes lives.

It can be seen, people we know have changed.

But for others change is silent.

A word to a person, who thinks about it later, and sometimes can’t even remember who said it?

The way a person conducts their self, lets hope its in a good way.

Any of us can change or have input to another, and never know it.

If a person is to take something from us, let’s make it good for them.

We can choose to be anything in life, lets choose to be kind! 

                                                                                                   May 2020.

I wrote this last year and it was from thinking how we and others change other people lives, it happens a lot more than we realise at times, lets hope it is always for the better!

                                                                                                                  29.



                                                                                                    The Home     Coming.

The mist was down on that autumn morn,

It was early yet, not quite the dawn.

 

I saw the lights as they came into sight.

I was hoping to get there before it was bright.

 

Many a bumpy mile I have travelled for this day,

It was going over in my mind what to say.

 

The road it twisted and turned down to the town,

This was no time to put one’s foot down.

 

The sun was rising as the car came to a halt,

It stopped quite gently, not with a jolt.

 

The big grand house looked down on me there,

It had been a long time, so I found I could stare.

 

I knocked at the door, then felt queasy inside,

“God man, you may have quit, but you’ve still got your pride.”

 

The door it opened, there she was,

The love of my life, she wasn’t even cross.

 

She grabbed me, then smiled and started to cry,

I saw a small tear running down from her eye.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me, write or phone?

Oh, I don’t care just as long as you are home.”

 

She leapt into my arms, I could hardly stand,

Then we walked into the hall as I held her hand.

 

The children came running when they heard I was there,

I had presents to give and stories to share.

 

But my mind went blank as they all spoke at once,

With my mouth wide open, I must have looked like a dunce.


“Give your father time,” my wife said with a glare,

He’s come a long way; do you think this is all fair?”

 

The children they calmed, then sat by my side,

Mind you, that was only after I gave them a ride.

 

We talked and played, then kissed a lot,

This was a time never to be forgot.”

 

When the night it came I tucked the babes into bed,

It’s a shame I had to work away for them to be fed!

 

But now that was all over, once and for all,

I would now be able to listen to tales from school.

 

With the women I loved, I sat by the fire that first night,

The smiles on our faces, told us the future was bright.

                                                                               

We had been through the pain of being apart,

But now we had money, we so we could make a new start.

 

I liked what I saw as I looked at my wife,

Now I was thinking, “oh boy, this is the life!

 

No more lonely nights of staring at four blank walls,

When you think of it, we must have really been fools.

 

It’s sad that a man should have to leave his family for them to survive,

But we have done our bit, and thank God we are all still alive.

 

Never again will I leave them, not even for pay.

It was good to be home, for ever and a day.

 

                                                                                                 August 1985.

I wrote this the year before I went to work in Algeria, it is not about me as such, but I know what it is like to work away from home for a long and to be away from family and friends. As do a lot of people!

                                                                                                           30.

                                                                                             Percy the penguin.

                                                                                         

It was a cold winters day, as I walked on that far off beach,

I put my hand in my pocket and took out a lovely big peach.

 

As I started to eat I saw something coming my way,

He wobbled from side to side, it was a penguin that was astray.

 

I stopped and waited as his big feet flopped along,

There must be others, and I wondered where they had gone?

 

He stopped and looked, then gave a stare,

Did he have a tale of woe he wanted to share?

 

He had a big fat belly that almost touched the ground,

And big black wings, but he couldn't fly around.

 

"Hello Percy penguin," I said as I gave him a little grin,

He laid his head sideways; did he take this in?

 

"Where's your mum and dad, have they left you alone?"

The sad look in his eyes told me he only wanted his home.

 

How sorry we both felt when a cry came from the sea,

He looked at once to see what it could be?

 

Percy's family they came running, to see who was his new friend?

But he went to meet them so our little chat came to an end.

 

They flopped off to the sea, was it just for a bath?

To see those big flat feet, flop along, could only make you laugh.

                                   July 1986.

                                          31.

                                                                                                                                     

                              A Slice of the Cake.

 When days grow long, it's nice to walk in the sun,

Or take the family to the beach for some fun.

 

Or just go out in the garden to have a laze,

Even have a beer and end up in a daze.

 

I'd hoped this kind of life could go on forever,

But there is so much we would have to endeavour.

 

For there are some who want the whole cake, because of their greed,

Just pick up a paper and about this you can read.

 

No matter where we come from, be it red or blue,

But to blot out the sun, can this really be true?

 

To do away with things we have come to love,

Whatever happen to peace, and that flying white dove?

 

So, we put our faith in a person when we put down a cross,

They'll do things for us, but what will be the cost?

 

I think its time they realised we just want to get on with our lives,

And we wouldn't be able to go underground into one of their hives.

 

I don't expect us to leave our back doors open at night,

But with what has gone before us, shouldn't we have better sight.

 

We can find plenty of money to light up the sky,

Yet I can hear the rumble of tummies along with a sigh.

 

The three wise men tried to sort out the muck heap,

But when the sheep started to listen, they were put to sleep.

 

The cake is big enough for a little slice each,

So please share it about, instead of making us reach. 

                             June 1987.

I wrote this 35 years ago, and it is about the greed in the world. I would have thought at the time that this amount of time into the future things would have been a lot better. I look around and I might be right to think, they are worst!

                                       32.

                        Spring and Autumn.

                 

A cry of a new baby was heard in that spring of 1901,

For a beautiful young lady had just born a son.

 

"Isn't he lovely?" to his father she said,

But he was thinking, it's another mouth to be feed.

 

By no means were they rich, in fact you could say poor,

It took him all his time to keep the wolf from the door.

 

As a baby our boy learnt to walk with his feet so bare,

And he would have to do that later as the shoes they had to share.

 

What they did give him love and affection,

But there were times in his youth when he needed correction.

 

But if there was one thing he was not, and that was bad,

Oh, but to see a young man march off to war, that was really sad.

 

To do his bit for his bit for king and country he felt so proud,

But when the bombs went off near him he nearly cried out aloud.

 

But survive he did and he fought so well,

Even if in the trenches his feet did swell.

 

Not so many brave men came home that went by his side,

But a smile on his face showed much pride.

 

It was a "land fit for hero's," or so the posters said,

So why were there day's when he could hardly be fed?

 

That gentle young man had been taught how to kill,

Yet no one had taken the time to show him a skill.

 

When there was work to be had, he was the first in the line,

But there was not much about, that was the crime.

 

He lost both of his parents in one awful year,

Even a brave young man could not fight back a tear.

 

Sadness was put aside for joy, as a way to compensate,

For he met a shy young lady that he thought was just great.

 

They had no money to go out, not even to ride,

So instead they walked together by each others side.

 

They had found a love that would have to be fed,

So, as you guessed, they were soon to be wed.

 

They would not be the first to be married without a pound in their pocket,

But they had a front door, so at night they could lock it.

 

As time went by their hearts were filled with joy,

As they could now share their love with new baby boy.

 

Times may have been hard but worst was to come,

For yet again our friend had to pick up a gun.

 

For twice in a lifetime he marched off again,

Only this time he really did fear it may be the end.

 

Many a long year he was away from his wife,

And the day he was wounded he thought he would pay with his life.

 

But in good hands he managed to be nursed back to health,

Yet in all this time he thought of his family and never himself.

 

What a joyous day it was with his family when they were reunited,

And the smiles on their faces showed they were delighted.

 

But five years from home is a long time to suffer,

So, it took them some time to get used to each other.

 

That they did, and how well it was done,

And he said in anger, never again would he pick up a gun.

 

Unlike the last war, there was work he could find,

But to toil long hours can become such a grind.

 

As the years went past, labour he did,

He needed the money to bring up another kid.

 

They never grew rich, but times did get better,

Then one day he sat down and opened a letter.

 

He cried with joy, as he the lines he read,

"We've got a grandson to his wife he said

 

They both hugged and kissed as to them this meant a lot,

And who do you think were the first ones to rush out and buy a new cot?

 

To the new born they gave much, and plenty was done,

It was a way of making up for what they could not give their son.

 

They had not been able to share the fun of their child in the war,

But now they could, so they did by the score.

 

The lines on our friend’s face grew longer each day,

He was getting old, but it's not easy to say.

 

Then he knew the saddest day of life,

As one morn he woke, to find his still sleeping wife.

 

Oh, the pain that went through him and he felt the grief,

The tears ran from his eyes as he bent to lay his wreath.


But time is a great healer and friends helped a lot,

But by the look in his eyes, by him she would never be forgot.

 

As he sat by his fire you could tell it was time to reminisce,

For the days gone by, you knew he would surly miss.

 

By this time, he had young grandsons by his side,

He told of his memories, and they knew he had not lied.

 

My father and I saw London's first tram,

And I remember taking your father out in his pram.

 

He had seen two world wars and men on the moon,

Also, many other things that went by, oh too soon.

 

In the autumn of his life he closed his eyes to sleep,

But those memories of him, I shall always keep. 

                        February 1986. 

This was loosely based on my Grandad's life, who was my mothers father. My father died when I was 4 years old, and while we did not live that close to them, he and my grandmother did a lot to help us. They were hard times for he and people of  his age to live through. This is a small tribute to a person who I felt was a great man!

                                33.

             

                 Month by Month.   

 On that first day in June, the sun did beam from the sky,

Warm in a cot, a new born babe gave out a small cry.

 

When July it came, it was hot and dry,

The babe a smile, but also a tear in her eye.

 

That August the sun did shine, but the storms they did bang,

The little one rolled over, and Mum had nappies to hang.

 

Damp and shorter days came with September,

Our lass gave her first laugh, which was a time to remember.

 

That October was wet, but sometimes bright,

The babe sat, and took note of the light.

 

November was cold for the winter to come,

In the mirror she thought she had found a chum.

 

Cold and frosty it was that Christmas morn,

But she was just happy to pull hair, when she awoke at dawn.

 

The new year brought days that had a snap in the air,

We saw her crawl, then stand by a chair.

 

The snow lay thick that St Valentine’s day,

She opened a box, then started to play.

 

The winds they blew, as in March they do,

Our lass knew her name, as she gave out a coo!

 

April was as cold, and as wet as could be,

She repeated my name, as I smiled with glee.

 

We saw some sun as May it came in,

Our little monkey could make a din.

 

The sun it beamed, as it had one year before,

One candle awaited her, as she walked through the door.                       

                         July 1989.     

Another one that I wrote many years ago. I  remember being in a conversation regarding how much a new born is able to do in it's first year. So I put that first year together with the seasons.

                            34.

                      

                       Dreams.

 I’ve won the pool’s, I’ll be one of the idle rich,

Well, until you wake up, and that’s the hitch.

 

Or break a world record, and be the talk of the town,

How would you look, when you wear that crown?

 

To climb Mount Everest, and be top of the heap,

Run a marathon, or a record-breaking leap.

 

Or maybe just put some pennies in an old jam jar,

So, you can save up, and have your very own car.

 

We all have dreams, no matter how big or small,

So, hang on to them, and who knows, you might walk tall?

                       August 1988.

These are just dreams!

                        35. 

                 Little Monkey.

              

I saw a little monkey in the zoo,

I wasn’t quite sure what he was about to do.


He swung from a branch, and went to and fro,

I wondered if he knew which way he would go.

 

He went up and down, then around and around,

Bang! He fell, and crashed to the ground.

             

                 September 1985.

I used to call my daughter Jean a little monkey when she was young as she was always messing about, I think that is where this comes from.

                          36. 

     

           

                         

               What is a friend? Part 1.

 

Over the years I have known many a folk,

Somme have been good and others a joke.

 

As the saying goes, a friend in need is a friend indeed,

But some would barter them for their own greed.

 

Never be fooled by how much one may appear to be liked by another,

You can be guiled, even by one’s own brother.

 

I knew such a person, whom I thought of as a friend,

Alas, that’s not the way it worked out in the end.

 

I will try to be brief, I also hope plain,

But as I think back, it gives me much pain.

 

When we first met, he was like a sheep that was lost,

I among others tried to cheer him, no matter the cost.

 

Improvement was seen by many he knew,

I saw it myself, as I stood back to view.

 

When you know someone is not happy inside,

It’s good to see them come out, and no longer hide.

 

But as the years they passed, I was given advice,

Oh, how I wished I’d listened, just once or twice.

 

But no, I knew better, and was taken in,

I should have known that was such a false grin.

 

It was too late when I found he would lie to even family and wife,

So, for a person to do that, what would he give for my life.

 

Then it came that I had something he wanted so much,

So, he lied and cheated, and made much fuss.

 

He got what he wanted at my expense,

But did he really think I was that dense?

 

“It wasn’t me,” he said with another false smile,

But prove it I did, and that only took a short while.

 

Now I am pleased to report, for him it all went wrong,

So no longer can he whistle such a happy song.

 

Now many know him for what he is, now he can be teased,

God does pay debts without money, for this I am pleased.


So be cautious until you can find a friend you can trust,

Because when the knife goes in ones back, it can be with great thrust.

 

                       January 1985.  

Its nearly 40 years since I wrote this poem. Reading back on it I sound very bitter, I was at the time and very upset. But that was a long time ago, I thought I would put it in as others may feel the same way at some point. The next one which is, What is a friend? Part 2, is a lot more cheerful.

                             37. 

            


   
             What is a friend? Part 2.

We’ve heard of a friend that was not so keen,

But the next time around I wasn’t so green.

 

So, what is friend you may ask yourself?

For a start they wouldn’t worry about your wealth.

 

It’s a person that would be there in need,

And you know they wouldn’t worry about your creed.

 

They would try to be jolly, when they know you are down,

Even if they could well be wearing a frown.

 

I must admit I have known many a such mate,

And the feeling you get inside is just great.

 

Don’t worry where they are from, or colour of their skin,

Because when you find that close friend they can be closer than kin.

 

Have different points of view, even argue right is wrong,

But as long as you can trust them, you’ll sing a happy song.

 

A friend may pop up in the most unlikely place,

But don’t make your choice by the look of their face.

 

Hold them at arm’s length, until you know they are the one,

To save yourself a lot of pain, as wrong is easily done.

 

But don’t want it all one way, you must meet them half way there,

As you may find they also have problems they’ll want to share.

 

So, try and do them a good deed in return,

And you’ll find they’re the kind that will never see you burn.

 

A friend could be a he or maybe a she,

But if you look after them, you’ll see a smile of glee.

 

So, look after a good friend, no matter what ever,

Then you can rejoice in the fact you can do things together.

 

Oh, what a joy it can bring, to have a friend you can trust,

And don’t have to look behind you in wait of that great thrust!   

                                             

                      January 1985

                            38.

         

                      Sports Day.

 

The tension was mounting as the runners took their marks.

When they leave the line, there could well be sparks.

 

The race was on, when the starter gave the sign,

The hungry athletes, they flew off the line.

 

Legs and feet, they pounded along the track,

For want of trying, there was not a lack.

 

Determination on those young faces was oh so clear,

But for the one that came last there could be a tear.

 

The one we were rooting for was now in the clear,

And when she broke the tape we gave such a cheer.

 

It was not the Olympics, but her face it did beam,

And the winner was our five-year-old, daughter Jean.

I think the words above say it all! 

                       June 1985.

                                39.

                   

                          All Seasons.

 

Oh, beautiful tree just standing there,

I would pick your fruit, if only I dare.

 

I see you in all seasons of the year,

When it’s cold, do you want to shed a tear.

 

It seems no time since you were a twig in the ground,

Now you’ve grown so big and round.

 

The storms they come, and you stand and stare,

You sway a bit, but you’re always there.

 

The blossom that decorates you in Spring,

Makes you look such a handsome thing.

 

When the sun comes, your small fruits will appear,

And how you look after it, makes you such a dear.

 

Then make your fruit so crisp and sweet,

I can then eat it on my garden seat.

 

The windfalls come, and they fall to the ground,

They make a noise, you can hear the sound.

 

You shed your leaves for the new one’s next year,

And the proud way you stand, you have no fear.

 

Oh, beautiful tree, you’re always there,

I bet you have some secrets to share.  

 

                       May 1988.

                            40.

            

               Best day of the week.

 

Monday’s the day we all seem to hate,

But it’s nearer another pay day, and that we all rate.

 

Tuesday it comes, and funds are low,

If you run out of petrol, you may need a tow.

 

Wednesday’s the day when you lend a quid or two,

But it’s Thursday tomorrow, and the week just flew.

 

Hooray! It’s here, when they hand out the pay,

Until next week it’s our best day.

 

                         November 1986.

This goes back to the days when I  used to get paid weekly on a Thursday. It seems a very long time ago.

                                     41.

         

                                 Adam.

 

There’s a big dog I know, that lives near by,

If you also knew him, you would laugh till you cry.

 

“Walk boy” and he would sit, “sit boy” and he will walk,

And the way he looks, you may think he could talk.

 

For ripping a curtain, he would get a good telling off,

He would lay his head sideways as if you were soft.

 

A lump of cake, he would love to eat,

Then turn his nose up at the best of meat.

 

When he’s been bad, he will look like he is dumb,

But what joy he gets if you rub his tum.

 

He might be big, but to see a cat or mouse,

He would turn and run, and hide in the house.

 

He wouldn’t bite, as he does things with ease,

But watch out that paperboy, if again he does tease.

 

Is he human or is he a dog, I ask with care?

I often wonder when he sits in the chair.

 

Woof woof he will bark, if he thinks you are foe,

But he’s all right with us, because Adam we know.

 

                                June 1988.

This was my sisters families dog. We did not live far apart when they had Adam, and we used to take him for walks and look after him at times, he was a lovely dog.

                                      42.

                       

                     The Faceless Monster.

 

It must have been the darkest hour, as I lay fast asleep,

I had been enjoying rest that had been so very deep.

 

How comforting it is to feel so warm and safe,

that was until I saw what could have been my fate.

 

Because not for the first time I awoke with a scream,

For once again I had experienced that very bad dream.

 

At the outset I am deceived, as it is always so nice and clear,

But come the end, well, I only know fear.

 

The time is warm, with the sun so bright,

I have things about me that are my life.

 

Joy and laughter fill the air,

One could be fooled into thinking, I have not a care.

 

Then the big dark shadow makes the sky go grey,

For that gigantic faceless monster is coming my way.

 

Its size is so vast, that it seems unreal,

Then it takes my possessions as if it will kill.

 

It is one big mass of outstretched arms,

With sticky little fingers that are itching its palms.

 

Backed in a corner, I shout, "go away," as if in alarm,

But then a gentle voice makes me feel calm,

 

"Do not be frightened, there's no need to worry,

We have only come to take some more of your money!"

 

"You took it all last time." I cry out in pain,

"Yet you keep coming back, again and again!!"

 

"But your poor and must stay like that,

So, hand it over, there's a good chap."

 

In my temper I yell, "no more will I pay,

I refuse flat, now what do you say?"

 

"If that is the case, well, you leave me no choice,

I must pass you along, to an even tougher voice.

 

"Got you this time," it roars as it pull's me in,

Then they all shout at once so I don't understand a thing.

 

Then before I knew it, I pinned down to the ground,

And with red tape was tightly bound.

 

"My knight in shining armour, for him I shall send."

"Oh, don't be silly, we've already got you accountant friend."

 

Oh, those hands, they really started to squeeze,

Then with me it started to tease.

 

"This could be the time when we really kill,

No," said another, "we'll just hurt for our thrill.

 

It inflicted more pain, then let me go, all torn and broke,

But warned it would be back, and go for the throat.

 

Away it went, looking for someone else to chase,

It was then I realized, it was even more than two faced.

 

                               September 1986.

This was from the days when I was self-employed. It is just a bit of fun.


                                            43.

                              

                                 Treat of the week.

 

There's a weekly job, my wife thinks it’s top's,

But I am not so sure when I am dragged around the shops.

 

We rush in and out as if there will be no next day,

"I want to go home," is a thing I dare not say!

 

It could be so hot that it puts you in daze,

Or the snows may be down to give your face a glaze.

 

But there's shopping that has to be done,

So, with fingers crossed, I hope the next is the last one.

 

But that's not the case, as again I am led,

If I moan I am told, "we've a family that has to be fed.

 

Feet they ache as to the supermarket we trot,

My temperature rises as under the collar I get hot.

 

Now it's to sweat, as its trolley pushing time,

I must resemble a race driver on the starting line.

 

We're off, I meekly join the crazy track,

I am a bit scared of the other drivers, and that's a fact.

 

But my navigator, she pull's me along,

We turn right at the eggs and we're going strong.

 

You dare not stop, not even to rest,

As some of these drivers have passed no test.

 

We head for the cakes with me thinking, "the M1 has nothing on this,"

My co-driver consults her map, no sorry, her list.

                        February 1989. 

                                  44.

                   

                       Fly on the Wall.

 Buzz, buzz, buzz, one minute he’s there, the next his gone.

But he’s always buzzing away with his song.

 

Buzz, buzz, buzz, he’s here, he’s there and on the floor,

That little marvel can go where nothing has gone before.

 

Oh, for a day just to have his lot,

It would by okay, as long as you didn’t get the swat.

 

Just think of the things you could see and hear,

Some that would make life a little more clear!

 

There are some peoples on whose wall you could sit,

And if you stayed while, you could see if they are fit?

 

Or fly into the office of ‘Spot the Ball,’

You could become rich, by being on their wall.

 

An exam to sit, you could do it with ease,

You could be in and out, just like a breeze.

 

The corridors of power and where you could end,

But shivers down the spine that could send.

 

To not know of somethings may be best,

Because to hear, you may wonder who is the pest?

 

So, buzz, buzz, buzz, we ‘ll leave that fly on the wall,

But what a surprise, if only they could tell all. 

                           July 1988.

                                 45.

             

                            What’s Love?

What does that word mean? I would like to know,

Some think they know, but find it hard to show.

 

Is it when two people are together, and dare not be apart,

But also, there must be trust to be in each other’s heart.

 

Maybe it’s when your head is in a spin, after being hit by Cupid’s Arrow,

But when you come down to earth, you may find that path is very narrow.

 

Or when you’re young, there’s puppy love as it is called,

But with you, could end up, finding out that you’ve been fooled.

 

Some people find it oh to easy to say, “I love you,”

So, think to yourself, are these words really true?

 

Most of us will get bitten at least once, or so it seems,

So, we will all have our own ides of what that little word means. 

                             March 1990.

                                    46.

                       

                         "Yak-yak-yak."

 

"Yak-Yak-Yak," two women at the door,

"Yak-yak-yak," they talk of things that might seem a bore.

 

"Have you heard of Mrs W, and her varicose veins,"

"Yes, and what about her kids who play around dirty drains."

 

"Yak-yak-yak," they can always put the world to rights,

"Yak-yak-yak," with them the future could be so bright.

 

"If I were in charge I would cut the tax's today,"

"Then bring down the prices so there would be less to pay."

 

"Yak-yak-yak," for character reference, to them you could send,

"Yak-yak-yak," so long as they're not the ones you ever offend.

 

"Look at her over there, she's nothing but a little tart,"

"Don't let your Fred see her, or it will do in his heart."

 

"Yak-yak-yak," no harm from them, would they ever mean,

"Yak-yak-yak,” and you could always be sure their house was clean.

 

"Oh, I was in her house, oh what a pen and ink,"

"And did you see all the dirty dishes she lets lay in her sink?"

 

"Yak-yak-yak," if you take your dog for a walk, steer clear of their path,"

"Yak-yak-yak," cause if he leaves something behind, you dare not laugh.

 

"That dirty dog's been up to his tricks again,"

"And he walked into it, did my Len."

 

"Yak-yak-yak," some things may be better kept from their eye's,

"Yak-yak-yak," but about you be the truth, and never the lies."

 

"He's got a bit on the side, that one who thinks' he's a toff,"

"If my Fred did that, I'd cut it straight off!!"

 

"Yak-yak-yak," two women at the door,

"Yak-yak-yak," they talk of things that they seem to adore. "yak-yak-yak!"

 

                           July 1989.

This was a joke poem, from days gone by!

 

                               47.

     


                       The boxer.

 Jab with the left, and now with the right,

The trainer shouted, with all his might.

 

Now dance around and weave your spell,

You’ll put him away before the next bell.

 

A big right hand landed on his opponent’s chin,

The new boy wonder was jumping around the ring.

 

“You’ll soon be champ, I’ll tell you now,

The trainer called out as the boy had his shower.

 

“You’re the best I’ve seen for a long, long time,

No longer will you be fighting for nickel or dime.

 

The crowds they cheered as he made for the top,

And no one ever thought he would be a flop.

 

He was soon to be wearing that golden crown,

And that was when he started to wear a frown.

 

“Look at the state of you” his trainer did yell,

“You’ll never be fit to go out at the bell”.

 

“What’s happened?” He asked when he did calm,

Then he saw the marks upon his arm.

 

“Oh, my God, you silly young fool,”

“Why do that, when you could have kept so cool?”

 

“It was because I wanted to look like a big brave boy,

Then with me they did start to toy”.

 

“They have got me hooked just like a fish,

Just to turn the clock back, is all I wish”.

 

“But you’ve walked a path of no return,

No big money now will you ever earn”.

 

“The crowd will cheer you on no more,

Cause like the loser you are, you’re on the floor.”

 

He was on his own, when the habit he tried to kick,

But it was to late now, as he had really been bit.

 

From a fit young man, to a haggard old tramp,

He never knew how close he was to being the champ.

 

If that dammed needle comes near your arm,

Turn away fast in great alarm.

 

There are good things to be had with a clear and sober mind,

So, turn away from evils, or into the ground you will grind.

                         May 1986.

I wrote this for a friend of mine, who died of the above. 

                              48.

             

                        Night Out.

 Oh, what a noise, when you hear that music blare,

As you walk past, you may well give a glare.

 

For on street corners that the kids now dance,

Will they hurt themselves, you think at a glance?

 

To move the giant radios they use, could be a strain,

For the size of them, you might be better off with a crane.

 

The kids they jump, then spin and twirl around,

When on their heads, will they screw into the ground?

 

The language they speak, you may not know,

Cause with back spins and belly-copters, around they go.

 

They have battles, but thank God, that is not a fight,

And the different colours that dance together, can only make the future bright.

 

One dances to the beat, while the rest guard them in a ring,

Then the next one takes over with a roll and a spine.

 

You may think this is all very silly, and they may end up stiff,

But it’s better than fighting, or going off for a sniff. 

                              October 1988.

                                       49.

                

                       A Day to Remember.

 

The big red bus was packed with many a smiling face,

For where we were going, to us was a heaven of a place.

 

And for a small boy, the only way to travel was upon my Grandads knee,

I looked and listened as my elders and smiled with glee.

 

The talk was of one thing only, as we made for our holy shrine,

And in our hearts, we knew we would beat the ‘Red Devils,’ this time.

 

“White Hart Lane,” the man shouted as we made for our weekly treat,

It was all he could do, to avoid the stampeding feet.

 

Rosette upon my chest, and rattle in hand,

I am proud to say I marched with such a jolly band.

 

The crowd upon the terraces, was oh so very large,

But it was unheard of then, for the fans to make a charge.

 

Balloons and streamers filled the air, as our teams they took the field,

The noise about us was quite intense, and we knew this wouldn’t yield.

 

Like the troopers upon the stage, they were there to entertain,

Unlike some we have come to know, who only want to gain.

 

The all-time greats, Charlton, Jones and Danny boy,

With those defences, we were sure they were about to toy.

 

But the Daddy of them all for me, was that little cockney lad,

The fact we have no one like him today, would make you sad.

 

He would jink and turn, was the ball tied to his feet?

To say I saw Greavsie play, for me was such a treat.

 

For the men in white, the goals began to pour,

And as for that little wizard, what a goal he was about to score.

 

It was on the halfway line, that the ball he did collect,

The only way it was going, was in the opponent’s net.

 

We joked with the man next to us, who was wearing red and white,

“It’s only a game,” he smiled, “I only came to see the sights!”

 

The game was over, the team we loved had gone and won five nil,

Oh, what a joyous and happy day, that’s why I remember it still.

                    April 1989.

                          50.

             

                       The Race.

 

Take your marks and toe the line,

The starter shouted, as he checked the time.

 

The gun cracked into the still air above,

Our man ran off as he gave a small shove.

 

Around the track, then out of sight,

They followed the road which bent to the right.

 

This was a marathon task, in which he would get no rest,

Like other things in life, he would be put to the test.

 

His feet would pound out mile after mile,

Legs would ache, it would be hard to smile.

 

He said he would not give in, not even when it got rough,

Because when you want something, sometimes you need to be tough.

 

Water it ran from him, like it would from a fall,

Oh, to be first this time, he could really walk tall.

 

As the minutes ticked by the weaker he got,

How far had he come, he had really forgot?

 

He wasn't in front, but it was within reach,

If he could do it, about it he could teach.

 

He was fighting hard as his goal was the lead,

It was some time before he saw his feet had started to bleed.

 

It was only then he could feel the pain,

He could give up now and blame the strain.

 

"No," the pain he would he would push to the back of his mind,

He now didn't see the faces as beside the road they lined.

 

"Is it twenty I've done?" His head was in a spin,

"I must keep going, I am determined to win."

 

When the pain barrier he hit, it was like a wall,

Now it was will power, so there was no way he would fall.

 

"Push, push, push," he had to shout to himself,

"Push, push, push, I won't be left on the shelf."


His second wind came like a breath of fresh air,

Now he could really run, as he had not a care.

 

Pain it was gone, when more tired runners he did past,

He now knew he could win, and he was game for the task.

 

He was now so pleased, that he never gave in like many before,

He had been beaten, but he picked himself off the floor.

 

Such power gushed through his veins when the line came into sight,

But there was still one to pass, it was going to be tight.

 

The gap had to be closed, with just a few yards to spare,

They had come all that way, now it would be won by a hair.

 

He thought he may drop, as he drove for the line,

Then his chest broke the tape, he'd made it in time.

 

He had nearly been dead, now he was full of jest,

He was the first to console who he had beat, in the red vest.

 

An underdog he had been called, not given a chance,

But he took up the challenge, and picked up the lance.

 

That proud young man was carried shoulder high,

The best time of his life, he started to cry.

 

He had nearly given up, when he was feeling down,

But he kept going to wear that golden crown.

 

Victory is defeat turned upside down,

So, don't give up, or you'll be wearing a frown. 

                                   January 1989.

                                        51.

                 
              

                                The long Walk. 

 “I can see them, they are up there.”

The man pointed to the crowd that had just come into sight.

“Yes,” came the reply, “lets go and greet them.”

The people ran to meet the others.

They had food, and boots, for tiered and bleeding feet.

They meet the marchers and gave them food and drink.

They helped them rest, until they were ready for the last bit.

They marched behind them as the end they neared.

They flew flags in the air above them.

From Jarrow the walk had been so long.

This was a hunger march, of that have no fear.

We all moan when things have gone on strike.

But for those who came before, we would have a lot less today.

Remember those brave marchers.

                                     November 2021.

The poem above is about The Jarrow March – 5th October 31st 1936, also known as the Jarrow Crusade. This was an organised protest march against unemployment and poverty in Jarrow in the 1930’s.

    My Grandad William Crisp told me that he and other union men walked out of London to meet the marchers with boots, food, water etc for them, and then walked into London behind them.

                                              52.  

                 

              We are all the same age. Just at different times.

This man said to me, we are all the same age, just at different times.

What does this idiot mean?

We are all different ages!

He was born 50 years before me.

Yet he say’s we are all the same age, I need to know more.

We are the same age, just at different times.

What I asked, are you mad?

No, we were both born, but at different times!

We both went to school, but at different times!

We will both fall in love, but at different times!

We both will both get ill, but at different times!

We will both feel pain and joy, but at different times!

We will both die, but at different times!

I stopped him there, as his thinking hit home.

As we are all the same age, but at different times!

                        June 2022.

I am not sure where I first came up with this, or where from? But the first time I said it was to a younger chap in a pub with my daughter Claire one night. And the truth is, "we are all the same age, just at different times!" For all of the above reasons.

                              53.  

                    

                 My life, 70 years on.

In June 1952, Our Queen became our Queen.

102 days later, I came into this world.

What has happened in that time?

For me and the world, I would say a lot, let’s have a little look.

That same year we saw the Mousetrap for the first time in London.

Along with the start of the UK records charts.

What was the first number one I ask?

In 56 Rock and Roll sweeps the world, and I lost my Father.

Shortly after I started school, at four years old!

In 61 my team did the double, that was great fun.

In 62 we had the Cuban Missile Crisis,

We thought the world was going to end.

In 63 we lost JFK, but good news was around the corner, if you were English that is!

In 66 we saw Nobby dancing as Bobby picked up that 12-inch bit gold.

Two years later I went to work for the first time at 15, that was to last for 51 years.

Not the same job!

The 70’s saw Punk Rock and a family for me.

It also saw a jubilee for our Queen.

The 1980’s saw a war in the South Atlantic and work there for me also.

We also had another arrival to our family!

The 90’s came fast with more wars to follow.

This decade went fast as fireworks brought in a new millennium. 

This came in and shortly after two towers crashed to the ground.

I had a new wife as I pressed on with a new life.

Our ways changed a lot, as we had phones in our pockets.

Cars that can drive themselves, but people still stop work for more pay.

The Queen saw in 70 years along with me.

But the world still can’t live together, that’s the biggest upset for me.

A lot has happened in that time, not always happy.

It could be a lot better,

But it could also, be a lot worst!

By the way the first number 1 was “Here in my Heart” by Al Martino.

                     September 2022.

                                54.

             

             Where Has This Year Gone?

Where has that year gone, I hear so many say?

It is September now, where has it gone?

It will be Christmas before you know it.

The shops are full of cracker’s, and the clocks have not gone back yet!

How fast does life go?

I was at school for ever.

It seems like that, if you have issues, that is!

My teens and twenties, also seemed forever.

Then I turned thirty,

Then a month after that I was forty,

Then fifty-two months later,

Before you know it,

Six score and ten had passed.

In the scheme of things,

We are here for just a blink in the eye.

But in that time,

Let’s try to do, what is right to do.

        September 2022.

                 55.

                                         

           I Love Music.

I was born a month or so before the UK charts came to us.

The radio was always on as ‘Rock and Roll’ entered our lives.

Elvis went to the “Jail to Rock.”

Chubby helped us, “Rock Around the Clock.”

The “Sixties” came!

And, “Oh how they did Swing!”

We saw so much, from,

The Beatles and Stones that Rolled,

And we were on a Cliff, when we went on a, “Summers Holiday.”

And if a person was really quiet, they could hear, “The Sound of Silence.”

Another ten years were gone,

When we ate some American Pie,

One can only “Imagine” what John was signing about?

And of course, Jimi walked “All along the Watchtower,” with his “Machine Gun!”

As the next decade came, we went “Underground,”

As we did not know what was coming?

Was that because of all the “Madness?”

In 88, Mike and his Mechanics said “goodbye,” to his father,

In the Living Years.

In those years, Stevie, “Just called to say, he loved us.”   

When another ten years, they had pasted,

Robin Hood, refused to leave number one.

But, “I will always Love You,” and “Love is all Around,”

Were, not far behind him.

All of this has been such fun,

And I have not even touched on opera, or the musicals.

We could go to, “South Pacific” or “Oklahoma,” for that.

Or who knows, have a “Love Story.”

The list could go on and on, but guess what?

I love music.

This came to me one Friday night when I was working on my poems and had BBC4 on watching an old concert of Simon and Garfunkel.

                                 September 2022.


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