If you mean what you say
And want to play
Disadvantages lay
Ahead straight away
The game is set
The match is met
Place your bet
But don't forget
In this circumstance
It's a right hand world
With nothing left to chance
I know a lot about a little
And a little about a lot
But this right hand world
Has got my fingers in a knot
It seems in all the dreams
That are worth pursuing
The left hand doesn't know
What the right hand is doing
The game is hard
With no holds barred
You punch your card
With your future starred
But you will find
In this right hand world
It's been left behind.
Lyndon Queripel
Forecasting Jude - Jenny Hamon
They forecast the storm
Was coming our way
Batten down the hatches
Or you will pay
Check mooring chains
And shut up the boat
Keep the torch by the door
And a waterproof coat
Chainsaw at the ready
In case of falling trees
Avoid the coast road
And mountainous seas
We’re ready tonight
For storm Jude to hit
I think I’ll retire
And sleep for a bit
Well, morning is here
A few leaves spread around
But nothing to fear
No damage is found
But wait, in our garden
Why did I not see
The wind has up-ended
A JCB
But do not despair
Of this terrible ploy
It belongs to my Grandson
It’s his yellow toy!
Jenny Hamon
Was coming our way
Batten down the hatches
Or you will pay
Check mooring chains
And shut up the boat
Keep the torch by the door
And a waterproof coat
Chainsaw at the ready
In case of falling trees
Avoid the coast road
And mountainous seas
We’re ready tonight
For storm Jude to hit
I think I’ll retire
And sleep for a bit
Well, morning is here
A few leaves spread around
But nothing to fear
No damage is found
But wait, in our garden
Why did I not see
The wind has up-ended
A JCB
But do not despair
Of this terrible ploy
It belongs to my Grandson
It’s his yellow toy!
Jenny Hamon
Scenes of Autumn - Diane Scantlebury
The biting north wind
Brings a harsh seasonal chill,
Scoops up the fallen golden leaves
Letting them swirl where they will,
The drains and lanes
To choke and to fill,
Spiky horse chestnuts
Career and crash to the ground,
Releasing shiny conkers
To roll haphazardly around,
For the tiny, frozen fingers
Of gleeful children to be found,
The air is thick with the reek of bonfires
Thoughts turn
To witches and ghouls,
Halloween, pumpkins and parties
The treat or trick so cruel,
Amusement for the wicked
The shallow delight of fools.
Diane Scantlebury
Brings a harsh seasonal chill,
Scoops up the fallen golden leaves
Letting them swirl where they will,
The drains and lanes
To choke and to fill,
Spiky horse chestnuts
Career and crash to the ground,
Releasing shiny conkers
To roll haphazardly around,
For the tiny, frozen fingers
Of gleeful children to be found,
The air is thick with the reek of bonfires
Thoughts turn
To witches and ghouls,
Halloween, pumpkins and parties
The treat or trick so cruel,
Amusement for the wicked
The shallow delight of fools.
Diane Scantlebury
The City Fox - Judith Anne Finetti
It was on a cold frosty January
Night in Morocco Street Southwark
That the City Fox crossed my path
On his way to Leathermarket Gardens
So sleek with a bounce in his walk
And so confident in his own habitat
I was the one out of place in an alien environment
With plenty of pickings for him from nearby
pubs and take aways
He knew exactly where to eat
Judith Anne Finetti
Night in Morocco Street Southwark
That the City Fox crossed my path
On his way to Leathermarket Gardens
So sleek with a bounce in his walk
And so confident in his own habitat
I was the one out of place in an alien environment
With plenty of pickings for him from nearby
pubs and take aways
He knew exactly where to eat
Judith Anne Finetti
Competition Winner - October 2013
I'm Not Looking For Nemo - Andrew Barham
I'm not looking for Nemo,
Just a safe haven to lay my eggs –
A bit of sand in a warm land
I can scoop out with my legs;
I'm not looking for Nemo
As I follow Ocean currents –
A clear stretch of sea that's free
Of driftnets and plastic debris;
I'm not looking for Nemo –
I've been around too long for that!
My ancestors were strong, my lineage long
Stretching back millions of years ago:
What need have I to look for Nemo?
Andrew Barham
Just a safe haven to lay my eggs –
A bit of sand in a warm land
I can scoop out with my legs;
I'm not looking for Nemo
As I follow Ocean currents –
A clear stretch of sea that's free
Of driftnets and plastic debris;
I'm not looking for Nemo –
I've been around too long for that!
My ancestors were strong, my lineage long
Stretching back millions of years ago:
What need have I to look for Nemo?
Andrew Barham
The Writer's Prayer - Jenny Hamon
Oh dear God please hear my plea
I’m trying to write but it won’t come to me
The poetry’s gone, my brain is dead
Please put some thoughts back in my head
I’ve tried so hard but cannot see
My inspiration has deserted me
The thoughts have gone, ideas amiss
And I am here in a writer’s abyss
I pray that I may see the light
To try to end this dismal fight
To blossom forth with thoughts anew
And write some poetry for you
Jenny Hamon
I’m trying to write but it won’t come to me
The poetry’s gone, my brain is dead
Please put some thoughts back in my head
I’ve tried so hard but cannot see
My inspiration has deserted me
The thoughts have gone, ideas amiss
And I am here in a writer’s abyss
I pray that I may see the light
To try to end this dismal fight
To blossom forth with thoughts anew
And write some poetry for you
Jenny Hamon
Too Warm To Be Autumn - Diane Scantlebury
It’s much too warm to be autumn,
We’re still basking in a southerly breeze,
Summer flowers defiantly display,
As gales strip the leaves
From the trees,
It’s much too warm to be autumn,
We should be wearing boots
Not open toed sandals,
Shivering, turning on the heating
Thinking of Christmas, lighting candles,
It’s much too warm to be autumn,
In the season of flu, coughs and sneezes,
Perhaps it’s the careless intervention of man,
That’s tricked nature
Into doing as it pleases.
Diane Scantlebury
We’re still basking in a southerly breeze,
Summer flowers defiantly display,
As gales strip the leaves
From the trees,
It’s much too warm to be autumn,
We should be wearing boots
Not open toed sandals,
Shivering, turning on the heating
Thinking of Christmas, lighting candles,
It’s much too warm to be autumn,
In the season of flu, coughs and sneezes,
Perhaps it’s the careless intervention of man,
That’s tricked nature
Into doing as it pleases.
Diane Scantlebury
You Left The Party Too Soon - Janet
You left the party too soon you know
You left the party too soon.
How I wish you had stayed
There were games to be played.
But, you left the party too soon.
Still the music played on
Even though you had gone.
There were songs to be sung
And bells to be rung.
Oh,you left the party too soon.
The Orchestra struck one more score
For dancers to glide across the floor.
We had, forever,lost our chance
To take part in one more dance.
Because you left the party to soon.
But life had called time, and
The last hour had chimed.
Your eyes slowly closed
When your spirit rose.
Still, you left the party too soon.
Janet
You left the party too soon.
How I wish you had stayed
There were games to be played.
But, you left the party too soon.
Still the music played on
Even though you had gone.
There were songs to be sung
And bells to be rung.
Oh,you left the party too soon.
The Orchestra struck one more score
For dancers to glide across the floor.
We had, forever,lost our chance
To take part in one more dance.
Because you left the party to soon.
But life had called time, and
The last hour had chimed.
Your eyes slowly closed
When your spirit rose.
Still, you left the party too soon.
Janet
The Sea At L`Ancresse - (A beach for all seasons) - Judith Anne Finetti
The sea at L`Ancresse
A constant in my life
How many sandcastles has it carried away
During my lifetime?
The Duplo Lego of littoral art
A simple beach, no pier or bobbing boats
But a slipway which makes every
Swim at high tide a special treat
How many dog walkers and their dogs
Have left their footprints there?
Only in the winter months of course
And how many novice surfers have taken
Their first hesitant steps with the waves
Which are kindlier than at Vazon
With the big boys
How many lovers in my lifetime have
Walked across that sand at sunset?
And how many ice lollies have melted
In its baking sun?
Small children always promise they will finish them
And how many picnics have been enjoyed
On a table which is washed clean twice a day
Crumbs are not a problem and
What`s a bit of sand in your sandwiches?
And how many horses have enjoyed a canter
On soft sand after the hard tarmac of the road?
And how many skylarks have soared above this beach
With their heart lifting song?
And how many of the primitive folk
Who lived on the nearby headland
And up on The Doyle have gazed at this same sea?
So long ago
There is something comforting about the endless pounding
Of the waves
Month after month
Year after year
You can rely on it
Puts things into perspective somehow
Judith Anne Finetti
A constant in my life
How many sandcastles has it carried away
During my lifetime?
The Duplo Lego of littoral art
A simple beach, no pier or bobbing boats
But a slipway which makes every
Swim at high tide a special treat
How many dog walkers and their dogs
Have left their footprints there?
Only in the winter months of course
And how many novice surfers have taken
Their first hesitant steps with the waves
Which are kindlier than at Vazon
With the big boys
How many lovers in my lifetime have
Walked across that sand at sunset?
And how many ice lollies have melted
In its baking sun?
Small children always promise they will finish them
And how many picnics have been enjoyed
On a table which is washed clean twice a day
Crumbs are not a problem and
What`s a bit of sand in your sandwiches?
And how many horses have enjoyed a canter
On soft sand after the hard tarmac of the road?
And how many skylarks have soared above this beach
With their heart lifting song?
And how many of the primitive folk
Who lived on the nearby headland
And up on The Doyle have gazed at this same sea?
So long ago
There is something comforting about the endless pounding
Of the waves
Month after month
Year after year
You can rely on it
Puts things into perspective somehow
Judith Anne Finetti
A New Day - Jenny Hamon
As the first orange glow of the morning
Appears behind Herm’s shore
There’s renewed hope for this new day
And aspirations we cannot ignore.
The dawn brings new resolutions
To live life full to the brim
Catching the joy and sunshine.
To ignore this would be a sin.
Let’s live with our cup half full
With all the good things we’ve achieved
And make our lives worth living
By finding ways to succeed.
So before the sun sets over Cobo
Let’s look at the day that’s just passed
And savour the good things that happened
With a smile, and hope it will last.
Jenny Hamon
Appears behind Herm’s shore
There’s renewed hope for this new day
And aspirations we cannot ignore.
The dawn brings new resolutions
To live life full to the brim
Catching the joy and sunshine.
To ignore this would be a sin.
Let’s live with our cup half full
With all the good things we’ve achieved
And make our lives worth living
By finding ways to succeed.
So before the sun sets over Cobo
Let’s look at the day that’s just passed
And savour the good things that happened
With a smile, and hope it will last.
Jenny Hamon
You Wake Me - Diane Scantlebury
You wake me with your love,
Bring in the dawn
With your gentle kisses,
You make the birds
Sing for me,
As the gloom gradually
Transforms to light,
And the room is filled
With the fragrance of your body,
You spark my tired brain to life,
Arouse me with your teasing
Until my limbs quiver,
And my skin glistens
In the half light,
You wake me with your joy
Stir me to magical euphoria,
I am alive and alert now
No longer dreaming.
Diane Scantlebury
Bring in the dawn
With your gentle kisses,
You make the birds
Sing for me,
As the gloom gradually
Transforms to light,
And the room is filled
With the fragrance of your body,
You spark my tired brain to life,
Arouse me with your teasing
Until my limbs quiver,
And my skin glistens
In the half light,
You wake me with your joy
Stir me to magical euphoria,
I am alive and alert now
No longer dreaming.
Diane Scantlebury
Love - Shannon Shell
I loved you, but I could not wait forever.
I made my choice,
But you would not make me yours.
In some delays, a year’s as good as never.
As what is lost no change of heart restores.
I love you still, but I cannot think of you
Without the bitter longest of regret.
This too will pass, I know and time renew.
The innocence one needs to love,
You were my once,
That never comes again.
A happiness untouched by any pass,
Whatever comes next with the stain
Of knowing well, this love might not last.
Goodbye my love! I hope someday you’ll be ripe for the love
You could have for me.
Shannon Shell
I made my choice,
But you would not make me yours.
In some delays, a year’s as good as never.
As what is lost no change of heart restores.
I love you still, but I cannot think of you
Without the bitter longest of regret.
This too will pass, I know and time renew.
The innocence one needs to love,
You were my once,
That never comes again.
A happiness untouched by any pass,
Whatever comes next with the stain
Of knowing well, this love might not last.
Goodbye my love! I hope someday you’ll be ripe for the love
You could have for me.
Shannon Shell
The Butterflies Are Still Dancing - Diane Scantlebury
It’s October and the butterflies
Are still dancing,
Nature is confused
So am I,
Everywhere cobwebs sprawl and glisten,
While an armada of clouds process across the blue
Nonchalantly sailing by,
The leaves turning brown and crisp
Flutter down to the grass
Soaked in dew,
Delicate annuals continue
To bloom and flourish,
Not sure what to do,
It’s still warm
As summer tries to linger,
Yet the sun rides low
In the autumn sky,
Days shorten to be grasped
By dark’s shadowy fingers,
So the butterflies dance this last hurrah
To nature’s law defy.
Diane Scantlebury
Are still dancing,
Nature is confused
So am I,
Everywhere cobwebs sprawl and glisten,
While an armada of clouds process across the blue
Nonchalantly sailing by,
The leaves turning brown and crisp
Flutter down to the grass
Soaked in dew,
Delicate annuals continue
To bloom and flourish,
Not sure what to do,
It’s still warm
As summer tries to linger,
Yet the sun rides low
In the autumn sky,
Days shorten to be grasped
By dark’s shadowy fingers,
So the butterflies dance this last hurrah
To nature’s law defy.
Diane Scantlebury
November 19th 1918 - Alan Marquis
`It’s December next month lads,
and at last there’s nothing to fear.`
`All over by Christmas they said,
though they didn’t mention which year.`
`We’ve a parrafin lamp to see by,
as we write our letters home.`
`no more reason to march anywhere,
never again any cause to roam.`
`A charcoal stove a’glowing,
filled for a change with fuel,
if we sit almost inside it,
there’s relief from cold that’s cruel.`
`And across the way out there,
the foe have no more hate.`
`They’re doing the same as us,
raking embers from the grate.`
`Abandoned are the weapons of war,
no bullets or bombs in the night.`
`Thoughts of peace have substance now,
sleep well my friends, sleep tight.`
R.I.P. John Duquemin, John Rihoy, George Robert. who served with 245 ( Guernsey ) Troops Company RE.
All three perished as a result of Carbon Monoxide Poisoning on the 19th of November 1918.
Alan Marquis
and at last there’s nothing to fear.`
`All over by Christmas they said,
though they didn’t mention which year.`
`We’ve a parrafin lamp to see by,
as we write our letters home.`
`no more reason to march anywhere,
never again any cause to roam.`
`A charcoal stove a’glowing,
filled for a change with fuel,
if we sit almost inside it,
there’s relief from cold that’s cruel.`
`And across the way out there,
the foe have no more hate.`
`They’re doing the same as us,
raking embers from the grate.`
`Abandoned are the weapons of war,
no bullets or bombs in the night.`
`Thoughts of peace have substance now,
sleep well my friends, sleep tight.`
R.I.P. John Duquemin, John Rihoy, George Robert. who served with 245 ( Guernsey ) Troops Company RE.
All three perished as a result of Carbon Monoxide Poisoning on the 19th of November 1918.
Alan Marquis
Things That Go Bump In The Night - Lyndon Queripel
"What was that?"
"When?"
"I heard something then."
"I didn't but . . . ."
"Quiet. Just listen."
"What?"
"Shhhh."
"You were dreaming, it's not . . ."
"Yes, there it is again."
"It sounds like . . ."
"No, it can't be."
"I thought you'd. . ."
"How? You had the key."
"I'm scared !"
"What about me?"
"You're a man."
"I am? Last night you said. . ."
"Don't disagree."
"But. . ."
"You'll have to get out of bed."
"It's dark. I can't see."
"You know the way."
"I don't know why these things
Don't go bump in the day."
"Oh, while you're up I think. . ."
"You'd like a drink"
"Please."
Lyndon Queripel
"When?"
"I heard something then."
"I didn't but . . . ."
"Quiet. Just listen."
"What?"
"Shhhh."
"You were dreaming, it's not . . ."
"Yes, there it is again."
"It sounds like . . ."
"No, it can't be."
"I thought you'd. . ."
"How? You had the key."
"I'm scared !"
"What about me?"
"You're a man."
"I am? Last night you said. . ."
"Don't disagree."
"But. . ."
"You'll have to get out of bed."
"It's dark. I can't see."
"You know the way."
"I don't know why these things
Don't go bump in the day."
"Oh, while you're up I think. . ."
"You'd like a drink"
"Please."
Lyndon Queripel
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