I look out of my window
And what do I see ?
Poor tiny children in misery.
Rags and tags,
Hands begging, eyes emploring,
Please give me a chipati
I need it, I'm starving.
You promise tomorrow
Yesterdayis a word forgotten and never spoken.
These poor little children a rag for a bed.
The sky is illuminous,
Bright orange the sun,
The palaces and beauty surround everyone.
The contrast of beauty and ugliness is rife,
This is India the reality of life.
Elizabeth Fisher
Pondering On My Peas - Jenny Hamon
I planted peas the other day
All neatly in a row
And since that day I’ve waited
For my peas to grow.
I’ve propagated peas before
And watched them grow a treat
But these just do not want to grow,
I think it’s lack of heat.
I’ve waited for a few weeks now
But nothing’s reared its head.
I wonder if they’re too cosy
All tucked up in their bed.
Now I’m getting to the stage
Where I should start to see my peas,
So I begin to poke and prod
Where my peas should be.
There’s not a pea in sight,
Not even the remains
Oh what has happened to my peas?
Have they dissolved in all the rain?
Perhaps they have grown downwards
Instead of to the light.
Maybe my peas have travelled
As there’s not a pea in sight.
Maybe they’ve gone to Pakistan
Or even down to Perth
But one thing is for sure
They’re not here in my earth.
Jenny Hamon
All neatly in a row
And since that day I’ve waited
For my peas to grow.
I’ve propagated peas before
And watched them grow a treat
But these just do not want to grow,
I think it’s lack of heat.
I’ve waited for a few weeks now
But nothing’s reared its head.
I wonder if they’re too cosy
All tucked up in their bed.
Now I’m getting to the stage
Where I should start to see my peas,
So I begin to poke and prod
Where my peas should be.
There’s not a pea in sight,
Not even the remains
Oh what has happened to my peas?
Have they dissolved in all the rain?
Perhaps they have grown downwards
Instead of to the light.
Maybe my peas have travelled
As there’s not a pea in sight.
Maybe they’ve gone to Pakistan
Or even down to Perth
But one thing is for sure
They’re not here in my earth.
Jenny Hamon
The Old Brown Carpet - Kathy Figueroa
Hurray! I don't have to vacuum
The old, brown carpet, anymore!
At last, I managed to get it
Removed from the dining room floor!
It wasn't at all difficult
Deciding it really must go,
Its age was indeterminate
But many years of use did show.
Once, it might've been quite stylish
And served to enhance the decor,
But I couldn't wait to lug it
Out of that room and through the door!
Perhaps it was quite attractive
Back when the dinosaurs did roam
But it was a big dust magnet
That I wanted out of my home
Always emitting fuzz and lint,
Maybe 'twas made of such ..and dirt.
I knew that it just had to go
When it made my eyes start to hurt.
Now, if you should chance upon me
And I'm wearing a great big smile,
It's due to my jubilation
About the dining room ..floor tile!
Kathy Figueroa
The old, brown carpet, anymore!
At last, I managed to get it
Removed from the dining room floor!
It wasn't at all difficult
Deciding it really must go,
Its age was indeterminate
But many years of use did show.
Once, it might've been quite stylish
And served to enhance the decor,
But I couldn't wait to lug it
Out of that room and through the door!
Perhaps it was quite attractive
Back when the dinosaurs did roam
But it was a big dust magnet
That I wanted out of my home
Always emitting fuzz and lint,
Maybe 'twas made of such ..and dirt.
I knew that it just had to go
When it made my eyes start to hurt.
Now, if you should chance upon me
And I'm wearing a great big smile,
It's due to my jubilation
About the dining room ..floor tile!
Kathy Figueroa
Labels:
Kathy Figueroa,
Poem,
Progress
Little Life - Diane Scantlebury
You didn’t ask
To be here
Little life,
So delicate, so fragile,
There were hopes
And promises for you,
We all waited
So long for you,
Little one,
What potential
You could have had,
You could have reached
The heights,
Or experienced the lows,
Breathed the air,
But life’s struggles and twists
Were not for you,
Little sweetness,
You didn’t make it
Into this world
Full of its own craziness,
Now only your memory
Is left
And our sorrow.
Diane Scantlebury
To be here
Little life,
So delicate, so fragile,
There were hopes
And promises for you,
We all waited
So long for you,
Little one,
What potential
You could have had,
You could have reached
The heights,
Or experienced the lows,
Breathed the air,
But life’s struggles and twists
Were not for you,
Little sweetness,
You didn’t make it
Into this world
Full of its own craziness,
Now only your memory
Is left
And our sorrow.
Diane Scantlebury
Labels:
Diane Scantlebury,
Mortality,
Poem
Butterfly Lovers - Diane Scantlebury
Up and around
Over and down,
Who observes them?
They don’t care,
Locked in ritual frenzy
Butterfly lovers,
Trace giddy circles
Into the air,
Nature’s calling
Driving them onwards,
They have no choice
But to follow,
For its life that inspires
Butterfly desires,
To continue the cycle on.
Diane Scantlebury
Over and down,
Who observes them?
They don’t care,
Locked in ritual frenzy
Butterfly lovers,
Trace giddy circles
Into the air,
Nature’s calling
Driving them onwards,
They have no choice
But to follow,
For its life that inspires
Butterfly desires,
To continue the cycle on.
Diane Scantlebury
Labels:
Animals,
Diane Scantlebury,
Poem
RDA Volunteers - We Need You Please - Jenny Hamon
Image Source: Jenny Hamon |
This week is volunteer week and I wrote this poem to try to persuade people to volunteer as a helper with Riding for the Disabled. I sent it to the RDA headquarters and it has been placed on their facebook page today. I then thought I should show people not connected with RDA that we need volunteers and maybe they could join us.
If anyone is interested in helping the RDA please contact them using the details found here.
RDA Volunteers...We Need You Please - Jenny Hamon
Please take a moment to read my rhyme here.
We’re on the lookout for people to volunteer.
Someone who has some time to spare
To help people to ride and show you care.
The charity I mean is RDA
Oh can you explain please I hear you say.
Riding for the Disabled is our name,
To help people with problems to ride is our aim.
By giving your time you help someone achieve
Small things in life and they learn to believe
That they can be brave and allay their fears
With the help of the pony and our volunteers.
The ponies are specially trained for the task.
They are laid back and happy and will do as you ask.
Their nature is such that they want to please
And give to the rider the confidence he needs.
The bond between rider and pony will show
In so many ways that we may not know
But by helping a rider and giving him praise
The rider gains so much in so many ways.
They say “many hands” and that’s what we need,
Two people to side walk, another to lead,
To keep riders happy and safe while they ride,
And to talk and to guide while you walk alongside
If you are able and can give us your time
We will be grateful and you’ll fit in fine
You will have your rewards from the riders you meet
And to interact with the ponies is always a treat.
So if you are willing to give it a go
Please contact your local group or someone you know.
We will welcome your help and train you to do
A job that’s fulfilling and fun for you too.
Jenny Hamon
Labels:
Disability,
Jenny Hamon,
Poem
The Cockatiel’s Lament - Suzanne O'Keeffe
A bird perched on its tree, its clawing needling on the branch,
How doth the moth get passed the honey bee when the glade is but a trance,
Where do you go my lovely, where does the trail of thoughts get sold?
How doth the cockatiel sing its melody to unveil its cloth of golden stole?
And down its sweeps in the air so gaily and free,
Til loves cloth of glory got its stitches unto thee.
But to unknot the ravels of heavens mighty thread,
This bird must choose its life to be free or happily wed.
Across the daisies he sweeps his wings out two and fro,
Searching for his lover where doth the beauty go,
She’s hidden among the emerald shield of duvet cotton leaves,
She’s the mystery of heavens missing cloth of threads of cupids weave.
Her eyes tell have many tales, her feathers unwithered by the past,
The last of the ladies she is the one in a million platinum grasp.
Alas he drifts among the sea cliff his melody changing with the waves,
Why should such a beauty love give a chance for his behaves?
But doth the cockatiel discern how love’s unravelling present lies,
It sown the threads of “her choice” into her own beauty’s eyes,
Unto these threads begin to sow and needle life’s quality quilt,
Where these two birds lament each other unto a standards stilt.
She plucks among the dandelions and blows their florets across the air,
Hoping that his eyes will turn to compose a cupid cumulative stare.
Hovered in the air the taraxacum seeds float freely and frolic,
Where two hearts meet and cause an epidemic systolic.
The melody is in tune alas, the quavers are now in match,
A song of ever lasting peace is now on heaven’s door latch.
Suzanne O'Keeffe
How doth the moth get passed the honey bee when the glade is but a trance,
Where do you go my lovely, where does the trail of thoughts get sold?
How doth the cockatiel sing its melody to unveil its cloth of golden stole?
And down its sweeps in the air so gaily and free,
Til loves cloth of glory got its stitches unto thee.
But to unknot the ravels of heavens mighty thread,
This bird must choose its life to be free or happily wed.
Across the daisies he sweeps his wings out two and fro,
Searching for his lover where doth the beauty go,
She’s hidden among the emerald shield of duvet cotton leaves,
She’s the mystery of heavens missing cloth of threads of cupids weave.
Her eyes tell have many tales, her feathers unwithered by the past,
The last of the ladies she is the one in a million platinum grasp.
Alas he drifts among the sea cliff his melody changing with the waves,
Why should such a beauty love give a chance for his behaves?
But doth the cockatiel discern how love’s unravelling present lies,
It sown the threads of “her choice” into her own beauty’s eyes,
Unto these threads begin to sow and needle life’s quality quilt,
Where these two birds lament each other unto a standards stilt.
She plucks among the dandelions and blows their florets across the air,
Hoping that his eyes will turn to compose a cupid cumulative stare.
Hovered in the air the taraxacum seeds float freely and frolic,
Where two hearts meet and cause an epidemic systolic.
The melody is in tune alas, the quavers are now in match,
A song of ever lasting peace is now on heaven’s door latch.
Suzanne O'Keeffe
Labels:
Animals,
Love,
Poem,
Suzanne O'Keeffe
Undefeated - Diane Scantlebury
You disfigure our bodies
Invade our organs and bones,
Yet your name is always spoken
In hushed, secretive tones,
We acknowledge your existence
In others without prying,
What we fear most
Is the thought of dying.
But the dying is easy
Survival is hard,
It’s a struggle to stay positive
When dealt life’s final card,
But I will not allow you
My spirit to defeat,
Cancer I’ll not march
To your cruel beat!
Diane Scantlebury
Invade our organs and bones,
Yet your name is always spoken
In hushed, secretive tones,
We acknowledge your existence
In others without prying,
What we fear most
Is the thought of dying.
But the dying is easy
Survival is hard,
It’s a struggle to stay positive
When dealt life’s final card,
But I will not allow you
My spirit to defeat,
Cancer I’ll not march
To your cruel beat!
Diane Scantlebury
There Are No Words - Aindre Reece-Sheerin
There are no words for a love won, cherished and lost
For the emptiness, I feel inside, in my head, in my routine
And God and you know how much I hated, routine
But I always felt safe, warm and needed when you were there
There are no words, for the shorter shopping list
The missed off treats for those picnics in front of the fire when the rains came instead of the planned, sunshine
And not watching our favourite programme on the BBC
There are no words for the pregnant pauses now in conversations, when friends accidentally mention your name
And then freeze, not wanting to hurt me, but not realizing that I need to hear your name, not just in my head or when I call you in the night
There are no words, for I cannot express, how much I miss you
There are no words, to describe the intensity, the anger I feel
There are no words, to share what I would do to have one more hour
There are no words, There are no words, there are, no, words
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
For Anna Heim
For the emptiness, I feel inside, in my head, in my routine
And God and you know how much I hated, routine
But I always felt safe, warm and needed when you were there
There are no words, for the shorter shopping list
The missed off treats for those picnics in front of the fire when the rains came instead of the planned, sunshine
And not watching our favourite programme on the BBC
There are no words for the pregnant pauses now in conversations, when friends accidentally mention your name
And then freeze, not wanting to hurt me, but not realizing that I need to hear your name, not just in my head or when I call you in the night
There are no words, for I cannot express, how much I miss you
There are no words, to describe the intensity, the anger I feel
There are no words, to share what I would do to have one more hour
There are no words, There are no words, there are, no, words
Aindre Reece-Sheerin
For Anna Heim
Labels:
Aindre Reece-sheerin,
Love,
Poem
Competition Winner - May 2013
The Signs of Indecision - Adrian Osborne
Image Source: John Buchanan |
The image above is called 'Rude Awakening '. It was taken by John Buchanan.
Competition - May 2013 - The Signs of Indecision - Adrian Osborne
Sometimes ? You'll reach a crossroads in your life,
To the left ? the grass seems greener,
To the right ? unwanted strife ?
You can't continue straight ahead ?
You're unable to U-Turn ?
You're standing at a crossroads,
and your "choices" seem to "burn" ?
These are just the "shattered signs"
of the fragile human mind !!
We forget, sometimes, the simple truth -
"Be Good, Have Fun, Be Kind" !!
Be careful when you choose your route,
Apply those "Golden Rules"
A road walked any other way ?
Is a path that's trod by fools !!
Sometimes ? it's hard to do what's right,
and that awkward question ? "begs" -
"Can you make an omelette,
without the use of broken eggs ?"
In reality ? That question makes "A crossroad within choice" !!
In reality ? we simply need to seek our calmer "inner voice"...
The answer ?
discard all questions "at the crossroads in your mind",
it doesn't matter which route you choose !!
Just "Be Good" - "Have Fun" - "Be Kind" !!
Adrian Osborne
Labels:
Adrian Osborne,
Competition,
Doubt,
Poem
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2013
(218)
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June
(10)
- A View From My Window In India - Elizabeth Fisher
- Pondering On My Peas - Jenny Hamon
- The Old Brown Carpet - Kathy Figueroa
- Little Life - Diane Scantlebury
- Butterfly Lovers - Diane Scantlebury
- RDA Volunteers - We Need You Please - Jenny Hamon
- The Cockatiel’s Lament - Suzanne O'Keeffe
- Undefeated - Diane Scantlebury
- There Are No Words - Aindre Reece-Sheerin
- Competition Winner - May 2013The Signs of Indecisi...
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June
(10)