Another lazy Sunday morning
And I’m lying in my bed.
Suddenly with no warning
You’re running through my head
Try to shake away the thought
But still the images persist
Think I’m falling, must be caught
But you’re so hard to resist
Said I wouldn’t do it
Go through all that pain
Hearts been shattered, life in tatters
Could I take the risk again?
I’m acting like a love sick kid
You’ve really touched my heart
When we meet like we just did
I never want to part.
Know I should be old and wise
But you make me feel so young
For me you were a big surprise
Haven’t felt this way for so long
At last I’m looking forward
Instead of living in the past
I’m full of optimism
Just hope that it will last.
Tony Robert
Ships Passing - Rosemary Parrott
In my teens I used sit at my bedroom window on the hill near the Castel Church at night, watching the pinpricks of light that marked the movement of shipping along the horizon: cargo ships with their collection of lights at one end and a masthead light at the other, and cruise ships, not so many in those days, with a row of lights from stem to stern and between the masts, not dreaming that I would ever have the chance to go on one myself.
Several times now I’ve seen the caption on the cabin screen `You are now entering the Casquets gyratory system’, as if it were a roundabout on some motorway, and gone up on deck to watch as I go past Guernsey. I watch the row of lights in the distance and wonder if there is another restless teenager sitting at that window, watching my light creeping along the horizon and longing to be free.
My poem, 'Ships passing', is included in my most recent book 'Lanterns in Wet Leaves' which has just been published.
Ships Passing - Rosemary Parrott
No moon,
Hardly any stars;
A row of dark oaks
Stand firm before
The window,
Giant prison bars
Causing me to cry:
“Let me go,”-
But silently,
Inside my head,
So that no-one else will know.
Distant pinpricks of light
Inch their way
Along the edges of the sky:
Green ones
On their way to England,
Red, bound for
The Bay of Biscay
And beyond;
While in systematic round,
The lighthouse
Combs its corner
Of the night
With rhythmic,
Bright
Sweeping finger.
Rosemary Parrott
Several times now I’ve seen the caption on the cabin screen `You are now entering the Casquets gyratory system’, as if it were a roundabout on some motorway, and gone up on deck to watch as I go past Guernsey. I watch the row of lights in the distance and wonder if there is another restless teenager sitting at that window, watching my light creeping along the horizon and longing to be free.
My poem, 'Ships passing', is included in my most recent book 'Lanterns in Wet Leaves' which has just been published.
Ships Passing - Rosemary Parrott
No moon,
Hardly any stars;
A row of dark oaks
Stand firm before
The window,
Giant prison bars
Causing me to cry:
“Let me go,”-
But silently,
Inside my head,
So that no-one else will know.
Distant pinpricks of light
Inch their way
Along the edges of the sky:
Green ones
On their way to England,
Red, bound for
The Bay of Biscay
And beyond;
While in systematic round,
The lighthouse
Combs its corner
Of the night
With rhythmic,
Bright
Sweeping finger.
Rosemary Parrott
Summer 2012-07-15 - Pat
Clouds scudding across blackened skies
Bursting to shed Rain, Rain, Rain
April passes May & June
Will sun ever appear again?
Empty beaches. cafes, kiosks
Fields sodden, crops go under
Forecasts tell us over & over
More rain, hail & thunder.
Birds & Plants, Nature confused
Is it Winter, Summer or Spring?
July comes outlook dismal
But we cannot alter a thing.
Maybe in August or September
The sun will shine to stop the rot
And being human, rain forgotten
We’ll all complain we’re much too hot!
Pat
Bursting to shed Rain, Rain, Rain
April passes May & June
Will sun ever appear again?
Empty beaches. cafes, kiosks
Fields sodden, crops go under
Forecasts tell us over & over
More rain, hail & thunder.
Birds & Plants, Nature confused
Is it Winter, Summer or Spring?
July comes outlook dismal
But we cannot alter a thing.
Maybe in August or September
The sun will shine to stop the rot
And being human, rain forgotten
We’ll all complain we’re much too hot!
Pat
'Lennox' Was His Name - Kathy Figueroa
In Belfast, they killed a dog
'Lennox' was his name
He wasn't a rabid, vicious beast
He was a family pet and quite tame
The reasoning for this evil act
Was rather devoid of rationale
They said he just looked like a killer breed
And couldn't possibly be a little girl's pal
Without a shred of decency
Only blackness in each heart
The Belfast City Council
Ripped a family apart
They confined the poor pet, Lennox
To a sawdust covered cell
He'd done nothing to warrant being cast
Into that man made H*ll
They kept him isolated for two years
Until his coat became ragged and bare
It was obvious from the pictures
That he wasn't receiving proper care
How he must've cried each night
To be taken back to the arms of his family
While good people protested around the world
To try to have poor Lennox set free
Many wanted to adopt him
And take him far away
They wanted to give him a loving home
Where he could run and play
But their voices fell upon nothing
Except cold and heartless ears
And on the morning of July 11, 2012
The dog killers of Belfast
Actualized everyone's worst fears
They say that the way a person treats a dog
Shows how that person will treat other men
So it's certain, in Belfast, cruelty will surface, again
The behaviour of those who killed Lennox
Was a complete and utter disgrace
May they be known, forevermore
As bad examples of the human race
Kathy Figueroa
'Lennox' was his name
He wasn't a rabid, vicious beast
He was a family pet and quite tame
The reasoning for this evil act
Was rather devoid of rationale
They said he just looked like a killer breed
And couldn't possibly be a little girl's pal
Without a shred of decency
Only blackness in each heart
The Belfast City Council
Ripped a family apart
They confined the poor pet, Lennox
To a sawdust covered cell
He'd done nothing to warrant being cast
Into that man made H*ll
They kept him isolated for two years
Until his coat became ragged and bare
It was obvious from the pictures
That he wasn't receiving proper care
How he must've cried each night
To be taken back to the arms of his family
While good people protested around the world
To try to have poor Lennox set free
Many wanted to adopt him
And take him far away
They wanted to give him a loving home
Where he could run and play
But their voices fell upon nothing
Except cold and heartless ears
And on the morning of July 11, 2012
The dog killers of Belfast
Actualized everyone's worst fears
They say that the way a person treats a dog
Shows how that person will treat other men
So it's certain, in Belfast, cruelty will surface, again
The behaviour of those who killed Lennox
Was a complete and utter disgrace
May they be known, forevermore
As bad examples of the human race
Kathy Figueroa
Paradise - Jenny Hamon
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| Image: Jenny Hamon |
Paradise - Jenny Hamon
As I sit here, perched on a rock
Half way between sky and sea
I feel an infinity with God,
A joining of him and me.
The wheeling gulls, the blooming gorse
Make this a heavenly space.
If this is paradise, I’m here
Cradled in this beautiful place.
It’s a magical place, my cliff top seat
Where peace becomes the norm.
I drink in the wonderful atmosphere
That campions and thrift adorn.
A couple of hours to contemplate
Restores sanity to my soul
Amid the very busy life
That seems to be my role.
I gaze towards the horizon
Out where the sea and sky meet.
That’s where I’ll find my rainbow’s end
And my life will be complete.
Jenny Hamon
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