On and on runs the rolling river that journeys to the sea..winding whilst wandering and meandering free..as it tangles in puzzles of perplexity, raging then relaxing within it’s visionary..Such a labyrinth of fluctuation with waviness and sway, naturally beautiful, a picturesque portray..Twisting and turning in an intricacy of coil, swirling and whirling betwixt an imaginative embroil..

Oh yon rippling rivulet as you trickle through that vast valley, yet spilling blood and guts to reach your utmost finale..easing memento as gorges stifle your stream, then oozing through an open vein in a nightmare of a dream..There is nothing on this earth that could stop your waterflow and no man could put asunder where hence you will go..Midst a mindfulness of determination from Mother nature’s commands,  you follow through the shadows from her herculean hands

Misty the cat curls upon the furry mat listening to pitter patter on the windowpane..but this lazy lump doesn’t like getting wet so she tucks her tail in and snuggles up again

But Misty the cat needs a widdle and she cannot hold it in anymore..so she gets up reluctantly yet has left it too late and dribbles all over the flloor.. Well when her mistress arouses from her catnap she notices the puddle by her chair..and strangely enough no Misty can be found though that smell of cat’s wee is in the air..

“MISTY” her mistress yells and bawls.. as she turns an awful shade of red.. huh Misty hears her bad tempered tone as she is crouched down under the bed.. Of course the little lady cleans up the mess and makes herself a nice cup of tea.. while Misty the cat falls fast asleep under her mistresses bed happily..

He wins the nobbly knee contest coz he is so very bony..haha his legs goes right up to his pants, two sticks of skinny polony..and he laughs just like a hyena with no teeth left in his gob..hes abit of a museum piece and isn’t a heartthrob..

But everyone adores Irish Micky Flynn with his Ballymoney Blarney..from County Donegal down to the southwest shores of Killarney..coz all he ever does allday is banter on his jokes, keeping people happy he is the jolliest of folks..and he chats to absolutely everybody, infact he is just a blether..with his thin arms waving high in the air as he forecasts the weather..he talks the hind legs of a donkey and still he doesn’t stop, as he sits with his mug of cocoa in his local coffee shop..

You are so trustworthy I can see this in your eyes, and you would never ever run away and hide in a disguise.. so honestly reliable in everything that you do..with a personality  of perfection and a person to look up to..yet within this world with uncertainties I ask, do you not despair, when humanity hurts one another amidst the air that we breathe and share

How on earth do you find it within your heart of hearts ? to suffer these fools gladly when there are too many counterparts..if only mankind could learn laudable life’s lessons from his fellowman..then ignorance would not be bliss and one would care about his clan..alas we are but mere’ mortals with some of us following like sheep as they lie thinking about nothing else but themselves drifting off in sleep..”Goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life” now that parable in the holy bible hadn’t mentioned any strife..but one can do the opposite of what they really mean.. so perhaps positivity  needs to ridicule any negativity that is seen...

In 2025 what will our world portray? I’m praying amidst my heart of hearts that Covid is well away..and I hope humankind has learned alot from those awful days.. they should be stronger and so much wiser in Oh so many ways

That long lockdown will have taught them quite a lot and learned people never to take for granted the little things they’ve got..one would imagine that this world will be much improved after scientists sought vaccines and the pandemic was removed..Well only time will tell if we have learned from this lesson well.. but five years from 2020 should have us all out of this living hell..

“A penny for those thoughts me dear” she hears a Cockney woman’s tongue..as this old Southerner reminisces standing here when she was oh so young.. back in those bygone days when she was only ten years old, stood sobbing her little heart out and shivering in the cold..

As she waits in King’s cross station at platform number eight and just like all those yesteryears ago, this TransPennine train was late..when she worthlessly wandered within a crowd of many others, all little lost evacuees estranged from their loving Mothers..So she stands here today searching her soul from sad traces, as she recalls the screams and cries and that look of languish on those faces..and that was sadly sixty years since she waved her Mum goodbye but she can still reminisce the fraught and rawness with a teardrop in her eye..

Twas one late September morning in 1939 and she held a little hand with all her might as that steam engine sped along the line..and alas that was the last time she ever saw her distraught Mother when her and hundreds of other lost little souls left London with her tiny brother..Yet Oh the sadness and suffering has moulded amidst her heart, from that awful station in September when her loving family had to part..So in the twighlight of her life at almost seventy one years of age she stands waiting on that transPennine train, and in her heart of hearts she knows that this time when she steps off that platform she will never return again...

Twas just another ordinary day down on the farm when Clarence cockerel “****-a-doodle-dood” his daybreak alarm..as Pingo pigeon picked from tiny little crumbs of corn amidst the shed loft and his partner Sonia sat in the hay stack that was warm and soft..

Yes it was an Autumnal morning just like any other as Farmer Ted Brown worked in the dairy along with Molly his Mother, milking the Friesian cattle all in a row as the udders filled the pipes with such a creamy milk flow..And  Daisy the cow being the oldest of the lot would “Moo” and “Moo” as Harry horse did trot..”Quack” “Quack” “Quack” went Daddy Donald duck as he splashed and swam in the farmyard pond quite covered in muck.. with his partner Michelle a very fine Muscovy Mother as her ten tiny ducklings, nine sisters and a brother.. splishing and sploshing muddy water with their wings, squibbling and squabbling the noisy little things..

Of course this Monday morning at the crack of dawn didn’t rouse the Farmer’s son Sid as he stretched with a yawn coz he hadn’t went to bed until well after late courtin’ and a’kissin’ his latest date..just a couple of school kids lying canoodling on the hayshed floor as mice and voles ran in and out of that door..But Penelope pony pranced around the paddock as she  strutted and head butted in her frenzied fit so sporadic..The Suffolk sheep “Baa’d” and bleated munching in the meadows all that day in the Farmer’s field not too far away..

So it was indeed just another average ordinary morning on that hillside farm and the sun had risen as the day was dawning.. Everything was normal with nothing untoward as Great Granny Glenda Brown stood pressing her pinafore on the ironing board.. she had the bacon and eggs frying in the pan, ready to enjoy her breakfast with Great Grandad Stan..And how they all adored their countryside affair with the sounds and the smells in that cow dung fresh air..Ted, Winifred his wife and his Mother Molly and Sid her Grandson, lived in the big farmhouse with lots of fun..And Great Granny Glenda and Great Grandad Stan Brown had just moved to a lovely country cottage nextdoor from a flat up the road in the neighbouring town..

Tattered and torn like tumbleweed I take what I want from the land with greed..my strength is strong as I surge and flow..for I am the seminole winds that blow..Stealing and pilfering everything in sight..amidst my boisterous battle of blight..destruction and doom is my delight, blow seminole blow

I can cause chaos betwixt my cringe..with whining, wailing, weary, whinge, beggar’s belief will be my binge.. blow seminole blow.. Seas shall swell and hills will howl from my gasping, grunting growl, swooping thru the night like a nocturnal Owl..come seminole and go..subtly silenced or fierce with force without regrets nor no remorse..I shall spill ocean’s watercourse.. blow seminole blow

Covid-19 contaminates and collects, it shows no remorse for paying one’s last respects.. infecting our defences one by one, but we need herd immunity to get this gone..

We are dropping down like dominoes, or skittles from a bowling ball.. results are rising higher with the Coronavirus positives, thus gaining negatives from the dreadful death toll..This only started in the early Springtime and yet it is still rife today, as our Autumn season is now upon us, how we wish it would go away..

So with the future facing threats for our survival of humanity, one wonders when will this uncertainty all end ? as our top Scientific researchers dig and delve to understand Covid-19 and experiment to comprehend.. One looks ahead with hopefulness and anticipation, that is all we can do when all is said and done..whilst staying socially distanced from one another, until the delightful day when we have won...

Mally blew his bagpipes like he had never done before as ‘Over the hills and far away’ could be heard from miles away and more..betwixt this Bordering hometown  that this Scotsman did adore..he belted out with such a beauty that canny Celtic roar..

Well people came from miles around  to witness his perfection as a colossal crowd gathered all around to have a closer inspection.. and some foot-tapped and sang along joining in with interjection..and each and everyone of them felt that interconnection

‘Speed bonny boat like a bird on the wing’ was the next Scottish ballad that Mally played.. and as he marched along amidst his medley his McEwan kilt swayed..with the blue, green, red and black plaid fabric arrayed..he was from the King’s own Scottish borderer’s brigade...

On Lily of the Valley land just beside the forget me nots there are three magic mushrooms, scarlet red with white stems and spots..and inside these white stems each with a crimson canopy, dwells Vinnie, Minnie and Winnie all are as skinny as can be..

Each run around amidst the darkness of the night, looking like lean runner beans such a frightful, funny sight..A trio of thorny stick insects, as green as fresh cut grass.. six snakey, slanty emerald eyes sparkle like slithers of glass..and they live nextdoor to one another without a sister or a brother, they are nocturnal little creatures created from the earth Mother..

Vinnie is vivacuous, she loves to dance and sing as hooty Owls joins in her chorus.. with the Pipistrelle Bats upon the wing..Minnie is the most mischievious of them all, this thin, frolicsome friend drives the other duo up the wall.. But betwixt and between Vinnie and Minnie lives the loveliest of the lot, her charismatic charm mixes in their melting ***..So these three green grassy hoppers live amongst the woodland copse, side by side in a magic mushroom with the bright red tops

She’s such a silly over, sentimental, rapturous romantic..pulling at her heart strings that are vulnerable and pendanic..falling in and out of love-struck situations in a mad dash rush..every single guy that gives her the eye.. she thinks is lush

But when will she learn its been a long time since she left school..and as she’s picking up the pieces she feels just like a sad old fool..crying in her coffee cup perhaps she needs something stronger..and every time it happens her heartache grieves a little longer..she never listens to her loved ones and her friends are just the same.. all suckers for a ladies man..so gullible what a shame

Her Mother says she will be single until her dying day.. if she lets men walk all over her and leave her in dismay..yet those words just make her all the more determined not to take care..with every roving eyed philanderer that follows her out there..Oh mercy me if only the right man would come along..after cupid shot his arrows and that cupids never wrong.. but time and time again she’s fallen head over heels..as her girlfriends sympathise coz they know exactly how she feels

Yet who know’s what’s around that corner in the circles of her life.. maybe’s someday soon she will meet someone decent and make them a ****** good wife.. well only time will tell but this lady will not change.. as her selfconfidence gets shattered and her spirit rearranged.. the trouble is that she isn’t getting any younger.. and that neediness desire to be married is her hunger..so que sera sera my dear that future is not ours to see..tho if you learned by your mistakes you would stay happy. single and free...

Freddy the farmers pet was a fat ginger cat.. he was a well off feline and a lucky one at that..catching all the rodents in his masters house.. nothing could scare him let alone a mouse..but there was a rascal of a water rat lived in the farmer’s shed with a square bale of hay for it’s cozy bed..well it was up to mischief there was no doubting that and it was gonna get the better of  Freddy the cat

Well weeks went by and things were  grand and Freddy lived a life on luxury on the farmland.. but one sunny day in early May..Freddy’s nine lives ended in dismay..he had used up life number eight jumping off the farmyard gate.. Well of course that rodent of a rat had planned Freddy’s doom and locked him in a derelict room.. So Freddy went missing for months on end and drove his master around the bend.. hunting high and looking low..”Freddy has gone..why did he go!!” Nobody found that farmer’s cat and that culprit of a rat decided to ****

Squawking Seagulls swooping on the seashore.. now there’s s screeching sound that I absolutely adore..
scavenging the coastal lands as happy people play.. building brilliant sandcastles on a midsummer’s day

Seaside resorts are as busy as can be.. scoffing fish and chips with mushy peas for their tea.. a scattering of shops selling seaside souveniers.. caring Grandkids buying bric-a-bric for the little old dears..There is nothing nicer than a trip to the coast and if you go on the sabbath you will love a Sunday roast

So grab the stripey wind breaker and some buckets and spades.. now don’t forget to add the  suncream with everybody’s eyeshades..pack a picnic basket..sandy sandwiches are a tasty treat.. but don’t take chocolate coz it will melt in the heat.. your carboot is full to the brim.. you are off to the seaside to enjoy that swim

Beware amidst the month of October as Autumn nights draw oh so somber, coz witches and warlocks right across the lands brew black magic betwixt an antechamber..

Hocus-pocus and hoodoo potions, abracadabra and pots of putrid lotions..Voodoo mysticism with witchcraft sorcery, spell-casting sinfulness and wrongdoings of roguery..Lock up your latches, keep your children safe at home..Becareful of the blackness, ghosts and ghoulies are on the roam..

On the last day of October as soon as the clock strikes twelve, daredevil demons shall dig the earth and delve..Shenanigans of mumbo-jumbo conjuring cruel magic spells. amongst the shadows in the moonlight and yon high-pitched yells..Don’t give necromancy it’s satisfaction, stay well away from harm’s door.. the superstition of Halloween has alot to answer for..

Did you ever see anything so bizzare as an animal trying to get into it’s owners car ? Well this is my Granddaughter’s pride and joy.. a mischievious, contented, beautiful boy.. and tho he happens to be a horse.. he mimicks folks around him of course..

So woe betide his mistress’s car
Billy boy will shove his head in it when the window is ajar.. and though he is a horse well this doesn’t matter.. coz this lovely lad loves a good old natter ..Awww but Billy boy is adored by all as he trots to see them when they stop by and call.. happiness shines from his horsey face with those pearly whites in pride and place.. one can tell when he’s happy by a mile.. with his horsey grin and hilarious smile..

Eeh what wishy washy weather we are having just now..it is hellish altogether holy cow!!
Isn’t it typical on the end of our summer..the elements are awful..Ahh man what a ******!!

Haway Mrs. Sunshine sizzle once again and send down those rays to dry up all this rain..Everyone is fedup and feeling abit blue..but we would all get a pick-me-up if we could see you..Please Mother nature listen to my plea..sunny weather brightens everything wouldn’t you agree ?

There’s cackling and crackling as my kindling is alight..I smell burning creosote and the flames are bright..I love the ambience and I feel alright.. stoking up my hearth on a chilly Autumn night

There is nothing as nice as an open roaring fire as the yellow flames, tinged with blue rise up higher.. puffing grey smoke out through my chimney ***.. Oh I love my wood burner it hits the spot..I see all kinds of things within my mighty inferno..but then again my imagination’s very wacky you know

Cowboys chasing Indians riding on the hoofs.. as the blaze flares and flashes whilst the combustion poofs.. witches and warlocks wave wooden wands conjuring magic potions as frogs jump in ponds..There are faces from places that I knew in the past with happiness and sadness amidst elation and aghast

Be it discipline or desire but one’s determination can conquer any given goal with joyful jubilation, the hardihood of the human mind is unique in every way..willpower and moral fiber will triumph come what may

Self confidence is an accomplishment that alas is very rare, there are oh too many doubting Thomas’s in the crazy world out there.. if only one could believe in oneself then fullfilment would follow through for the victorious shelf..yet our mistrusts and misgivings are never that far away with a reluctancy of refusal to help us in dismay

Positivity with a zest and a zeal overthrows everything in the way one can feel..crushing negativity, those inner voices in our head.. and letting us look forward to a brighter future instead..only ourselves can achieve this mindset..to end one’s destiny without remorse or regret

Huh our mistress has left us again she must have went to work.. after she tethered us at Grandad’s gate and driven off in beserk.. but what’s that on old Pops face.. he’s smiling with a smirk..Wowee nice one Grandpa as he hands us a doggy ****

Ooh I love those tastey treats that he gives us every day.. he really is most generous as the pair of us do play..until we hear our leads rattle and of course we are on our way.. walkies with old Grandpapa down the dene’ and along the bray

“Darcey is my sister and the two of us are chums.. she is following the farmyard ducks devouring their crumbs..as Mother duck is quacking at her with such harrasing hums and her fourteen doddery ducklings keep close to their mums

Our mistresses Mother doesn’t like us in the house.. tho we wouldn’t bark..we’d be as quiet as a mouse.. but she loves to see us just like her old spouse.. Eeeh it’s a dog’s life though we really shouldn’t grouse...

Do you believe in magic? Or can you explain the unexplained? I do hope you are not one of these non believers who I find foolish and hairbrained..Fairies from folklore are absolutely true, they  live at the bottom of your garden tho you probably didn’t have a clue..

Well who else do you think scatters tiny seeds on the ground? as they whistle whilst they work through a blowing breeze sound..And who do you think makes those grassy daisy rings? as the pixies chase the fairies those mischievious little things..I watch their wonderful wings amidst the early morning dew, transculently twinkling and so see-through..So the next time you are mowing your lawn just becareful where you tread, remember there are such alot of secretive sprites sleeping on a bed..

Wherever there is grass there will be little folklore living there..tho they try to stay out of sight, one can watch them flying through the air..looking like minute midgets with their tiny tails all aglow, playing a-ring-ring-of-roses and giggling as they go..and the fairy godmother, the queen of the show will be sat watching over them but you won’t see her you know.. She has learned amidst those parables of her prime to make herself invisible just like the timelessness of time..

Windy and wet!!
I looked at the forecast and that’s what were gonna get!!
Ah well writing poetry is what it’s gonna be..this shall keep me busy.. it’s no walking for me..

Raindrops are running down my window pane.. I shan’t go outside until it dries up again.. but luckily it’s more inspiration to write.. so with my mug of coffee I will endeavour my delight..

Watching the diagonal pelting persistence..I realise everything needs water in this living existence.. so let it teem down allday.. I don’t care.. coz I am contented with my poetry and I’m not getting wet hair!!!

Sometimes we lose our self confidence, one is sinking in a hole.. armour-propre has deminished from one’s heart and soul..

‘I just need someone to hug me and tell me I’m not as worthless as I think’ she sits amidst her solitude as a teardrop drips from a blink...

Faith in herself and with such a low self esteem, she is lost in a languished low life amidst an imposssible  dream..Oh somebody please help her, smother her with adoration to free her heaviness from this heartache and give her salvation.. Unleash those shackles and chains from her pride and fill her with a wholesomeness and warmth inside..

She sells her shells to a seaside shop, she keeps some shells for herself.. she polishes and paints them pretty colours and places some on a shelf..

She picked those shells from the sandy shore all buried on a beach..she saw some seagulls duck and dive whilst squawking with a screech..Susie sells her seaside shells on her market stall and displays them on a little wall..

Peter came to Susies stall and asked her what she had to sell.. she pointed up to the ledge on the wall and then Peter picked out a shell..He put this silver shell to his ear and listened to the sea..but out popped a scallop from his home he wanted to be free...

So peter caught the scallop and he put it in a ***..he couldn’t wait to show Susie at her stall exactly what he’d got..Well Susie studied that strange creature to see if it was still alive.. and put it in a seaside shell to see if it would survive

The little lively scallop wriggled right into the shell..and snuggled deep within it’s case to hide away so well..So Susie took Peter’s hand and strolled down to the sea and placed the shell inside Peter’s *** and let that scallop flee..

Marshmallow pinks amidst cobalt blues.. dawns daylight’s dazzling hazy hues..the visionary artist’s inspirational surprise as her palette of pastels portrays the skies

She slaps her subtlety so senique.. to convey her cloudless colour technique..such a virtuoso pièce de résistance..as she marvellously mimics a replica existence..Oh if only I could paint on demand with my trifold easel and bristle brush in my hand

Though I can appreciate such sensational splendour from the fascinations and supremacy of Mother nature’s surrender..Alas I have no artist’s skill nor an ability to  craftmanship at my free will.. so I shall use my perception and write it in books from hollow happenstance and yon shadey nooks

Charismatic and delightful, hip hopping about..splish splashing in a little puddle from a water spout.. I watch a Robin redbreast out in the pouring rain, he is having such good fun and he doesn’t complain..

Fluffing up his feathers and puffing out his tiny chest, he looks so cute in his little scarlet vest..Oh Mr. Robin you brighten up my day, what a wonderful warming welcome you are I really have to say..making my drab, dreary afternoon something to write about, well thanks to you I found my inspiration without a doubt..I shall crumble up a crust of bread especially for you, coz this is your special treat for stopping me from feeling blue..

l love the ‘Big Yin’
Such a unique personality
As tears roll down my cheeks with laughter
He has an amazing ability

Billy Connolly you are certainly one of a kind
Born in the poor streets of Glasgow
Deprivation comes to mind

Telling jokes as a welder
Working on the shipyard floor
You were destined for stardom
After you walked from out your door

Yes you do swear alot
But honesty is your gift
Your talent is amazing
You give everyone a lift

We have watched you loads recently on the tv
We would never miss your shows
My hubby & me

I am pleased your in my era
You make me very proud
The way you’ve risen to fame from nothing
Entertaining people in a crowd

Through the years you’ve never wavered
You have grown from strength to strength
The best comedian by far
You have beat them all by a length

Nowadays you are failing
Dreaded Parkinsons disease
But you will still look on the bright side
Unable to walk, down on your knees

Billy Connolly you are a genius
As you tell all of real lifes event
You describe it as if its happening
Saying it excatly as its meant

Still pulling in the crowds
Even though you are seventy five
****** Moses thats incredible
What a performer, ‘Man alive’

You will always be a legend
‘The Big Yin,’ you got life right
After you are long gone
Shining like a diamond in the night

I enjoy my writing so I must be a thinker.. poetry is my compulsive passion.. it’s got me hook line and sinker!!

No sooner have I finished a creativity..then another thought is amidst my mindfulness in readiness  for me..so I think, rhyme in pen ..over and over again.. as I am lost in my own bubble betwixt that overanalyzed brain

But poetry is a pleasurable passtime..it pleases  me no end and keeps the cogs well oiled in my noggin from going around the bend.. but it is just as well I found this happy hobby only recently without a doubt.. coz if I had written verses all of my life.. then my fingers would be worn out!!!

‘Ninky nonky noo noo’ is a place in nowhere land..where the silver sea is sweet as honey and the shores have pink chocolate sand..

So the Ninky nonky noo noo’s wibble about like wobbly jellies coz they can’t stop stuffing their faces filling the sweet, sugary sands in their bellies.. Now these round ***** of roly polies giggle all day long as each and every one of them sing the same old song..

“We are the Ninky nonky noo noo’s from our Ninky nonky land our mouths are always covered in chocolate candy and it tastes so very grand” Well what a wonderful world it is for these connoisseurs of confection living off the sugary strands of sand sounds a sensational perfection

I see the colours are a’changing amidst the Autumn season and the berries on the branches are a’blooming for an irrefutable reason..paving the way for the colder months ahead, so that all our little feathered friends shall not struggle to be fed..

As Blackbirds cluster amongst the tall trees foraging fruits from the forest betwixt an early morning breeze..The hairy Hawthorn, wonderful Wild Cherry and the radiant Rowan with their rich, ripe rewards, such ruddy red drupelets in an abundance of hoards..And clambering on the branches stripping the bark with sharpened claws are rusty, red squirrels hanging on all fours..scuttling down the trunks, mouths full up with acorns, almonds and seeds to clandestinely cache their prizes between softened earth and weeds..

Our Amazing, annual October show..such a dazzling display from Mother nature’s bestow..Canopies of glorious golden highlights, delightful  eye-candies for our birds tasty bites..Following our summer and into September the Autumn season is upon us right through til’ December..Some will say that this is the nicest time of the year, as such sensational spectacles are everywhere.. within the wildness of the woodlands and the orangey array, each and every artist’s passionate palettes of portray..

Finding a seashell in the silvery sand
Brush off the particles with your hand
Make sure it is empty with no creature inside
shake it incase a sea serpent does hide

Place your seashell to your ear
Listen carefully what do you hear?
Only the sound of the abyssal sea
Ebbing, flowing beckoning thee

The tormented, timeless, tempestuous waves
Battering the rugged rocks
Engulfing the caves

Mightier than humanity
More powerful than mankind
Betwixt spirituality & the unconscious mind

Mysteriousness of mythical creatures below
Mermaids scaley tails aglow
Frollicking in fathomless depths untold
Braving the briney surf so cold

Ship-wrecked carcasses line the seabed
Ne’er unearthed tho tears were shed
Hardy heroes lost in salty brine
E’er hallowed in Oceanic shrine

When you think you’ve got the whole world on your shoulders falling down ontop of you with heavy boulders.. try not to despair.. there is always hope out there.. but talk to someone about your trouble before it moulders..

There will always be that caring listening ear who will talk you through your grievances and fear..never bottle up inside what you can easily confide..because worries will only worsen if left to hide..don’t hesitate to get help in your hour of need..choose a good friend by all means and once you’ve opened up and spilled the beans..those dillemas will disappear away indeed..

Slimy tracks of gooey trails from dilly-dallyer sluggish snails
Dawdling along in a laggard fashion..they take absolutely ages moving so they deserve our compassion

Such slowpoke procrastinators, hiding in their shell..how they ever get from A to B.. yet they do it very well..leaving lines of soggy slime everywhere they crawl..one can find them on patio paths and sticking on a wall.. Hail the glorious garden snail..we all salute your sight.. resting throughout the daytime and feeding thru the night

Eeh she is adorable this lassy makes me laugh.. playing with her rubber duckies splashing in the bath..and me left with a flooded floor in her aftermath..but I won’t get woundup on that warpath

Haha butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth..as shes pointing to the north telling me “Grandma that’s the south” Oh if only my Chickadee would never change.. alas she will become an adult in this life that is so strange..Well within this world of uncertainty and doubt..may my Hunnybun never be harmed.. this is something I could do without

Let this little one learn to be a child.. not growing older every day with knowledge of the deviled..her innocence at the moment is beautiful and beguiled..my heart just melted as she looked at me and smiled.. sweetness shines from her fair freckled face..with that twinkle in her eye as she looks up to space..there ought to be more like her in this human race.. she simply lights up the darkness from doom and disgrace

One single special seed amidst an acorn.. that small shaped shrivelled thing..shall grow into a towering oak tree..full of foliage in the spring..

Ah that lovely lonesome oak tree standing steadfast amongst the earth..garnished with it’s glorious greenery.. a canopy to shroud such special worth..there is none quite like yon blooming oak..a sheltering from the pelting rain..pickup yon seed of the oak..don’t let it lie in vain..

Plant the little oaknut and water it so well..and watch a tiny sprig of life rise from it’s shell..tend and nurture it and give it space to spread..scatter springtime bulbs all around the acorn bed.. betwixt the timelessness of time your oak tree will grow..with those sensational seasonal daffofils that you planted down below

Oh how Colin cried in his coffee cup the night his sweetheart died..he just couldn’t go on living without his Hilda by his side..They were just a couple of kids in school at the summer ball.. when cupid shot his bow and arrow as they sat chatting in the hall

For forty nine happy years they have never been apart..mind you she left him for a month or so when they were newly weds and that almost broke his heart.. but that was just a blip in their marriage relationship..and one would often say that the pair of them was joined at the hip.. Well he held it together at her funeral and he found some comfort at the wake.. but soon as his loved ones left he felt so sad for pity’s sake

How on earth was he supposed to carry on without Hilda in the house..he had no hobby or no interests it would be as quiet as a mouse..Alas he put a brave face on things when the family came around.. though they were not that stupid and they sensed Dad’s sorrow so profound.. Perhaps time would ease the pain and help his heartache go away.. as Colin sat in her old rocking chair Oh how he wished she was here today

Hamish McTagish was a wild hairy Haggis
He dwelled amongst the hills & glens
His doting wife was hairy Gladys
She loved to entertain their friends

High up in the Highlands of Scotland
These wild beasties roamed
Their wild, shaggy manes grew down there backs
& Were not often combed

Haggises understood their accent
But visitors didn’t have a clue
No one knew what was meant
By “Had ya weeshed” & “Och aye the noo”

Whilst Mr Hamish walked clockwise
Larger legs were on the right
His shaggy better half was the opposite to him
What a most peculiar sight

So going round in circles
Side-winding up the hills
Everyone watching in amazement
Their movement gave folk thrills

With piggy like snouts & beady eyes
Long strands of unruly mops
A swarm of bugs & bluebottles
Kept warm & cozy in their crops

This rather rare unusual breed
It survived for hundreds of years
But man got a taste for Haggis
It wiped them out & all their peers

Boil Haggis in a bag
Microwave it in a dish
Theres loads available in the shops today
Tho there not alive now, I wish🤣

Whence Mother nature has mightied let no man put asunder.. her roaring wind and pouring rain aghasts us with her thunder..flashes of lightening streaks the skies with worrying wonder..as I cower below my candlewick to rescue me from her plunder

She has the willpower to both fright and delight.. betwixt her burning desire and between yon oversight..clatters and bangs amidst the darkness of the night.. then placid peacefulness by the early morning light..So whether she weathers a wontoness of wild or calm.. our dear old Mother earth doesn’t intend us harm.. yet there are times when she causes one alarm amonst such sheer spangled sensational charm

Elsie is exasperated with her worriment and woeing.. the poor soul does not know which way she is coming or going..Alas she can’t control her restlessness this is the way Elsie Morgan is.. her mind is always ******* in knots from her forever in a tizz

So you will see this poor fragile old woman standing by her windowsill stood staring from inside her livingroom looking so ill..waiting for her family whenever they will call..Elsie is constantly thinking one of them will have an accident or a disasterous fall..All the while she picks her fingers and has each single one red raw.. if only she could stop this nervousness coz her fingers are sore

Oh poor old Elsie Morgan has always lived on her wits..forever imagining the worst in life she has worn her mind to bits.. So much so that she has suffered a second stroke.. but this was inevitable with her fretting over folk..Each and every minute and second of the day you can see her frightened face staring out in dismay..with such a look of anxiety..ashen and grey

Now more than ever we need each other, that great friend who is always there for you.. a sister or a brother..We are in this together, all in the same boat and with the help from one another.. we will keep this afloat..

So don’t think you are tackling these troubles on your own, in these days of isolation everybody feels alone..But just a smile and a “Hello” goes along, long way when you are walking past a stranger..spend the time of day.. You will both feel alot happier and not so blue finding friendship is so good for you..

Even wearing that mask on your face, we can chat from a distance keeping a sensible space..Yes Coronavirus is an invisible disease and alas it is spreading like wildfire causing ill at ease.. but if one stays as positive as one possibly can and with the right frame of mind..it could be written in all the history books as ‘That Covid-19 made everyone twice as nice and ever so kind’

He strolls the salty seashore with his bagpipes in his hand..far away from his native Scottish borders and his rolling hilly land..and he blows on his reed as his lungs expand whilst he walks with gusto kicking up the sand..

Melodious music fills the chilly air.. as passerby’s stop to soak up the ambience from yon bagpiper that is there..even the Guillemots and the Kittiwakes breeze in to stare..as the morning sunrise shimmers on the sea glistening glimmers everywhere..

But Oh what a wonderful Scottish sound.. on the coastal shores as it reverberates all around.. echoing amidst the sandy dunes with Sandpipers picking off the ground.. this Piperman is like a fish out of the water and a rarity to be found..

Within the withered wilderness lies one hundred woodland trees.. whistling with ferocity amidst the chilly wind’s freeze.. yet I wander thru the blighted brazen up to my knees..alas an ambience of witchery is very ill at ease..

Is it just my imagination or have those trunks got eyes ? Or perhaps my loneliness was not wise ? As I try not to look at the limbs laughing disguise.. This element of scariness is not a surprise..Oh ferocious forest please show me some sympathy.. lead me through your darkness to seek out empathy.. I am trying to ignore your loud and clear signs of unpleasantry..Please lift me out to sought salvation amongst this clutter of complexity

The pied piper played his tune as he pranced and he danced by the light of the moon.. and as his rasps reverberated throughout vast valleys.. all the rats from the villages gathered in alleys..

Brown fat rats with long lean tails heard his whistling and his wails.. musical melodies loud and clear gathered up yon rodents from far and near..so as the pied piper led the way.. he rid the towns and countrysides dismay.. folks stood on sides of lanes and peeped out of their window panes..as hundreds and thousands and millions more rats followed their leader in a frenzied uproar

They do say from legend and myth that pied piper’s intention was very forthwith..those wretched rats of aggravation ended their days in his damnation.. some tell of the tales of so long ago but the old people of the parishes remember and know.. “He tookem’ to the caves” I heard one shout..”Oh no he putem’ in a pit when I was about” yelled another one.. but when all was said and done..that rat infestation was dead and gone...

I stare at the shadowy corner of my room.. My senses are aroused as I inhale a whiff of your perfume..and amidst the streaky, spangled light I see a strange phenomena.. a ghostly sight..

A blurry ball cloudy and opaque.. my eyes are focussed tho this is vague..Can it be a spiritual orb I espy ? within filmy fuzziness I hear a sigh..alas Oh such a sorrowfulness, mournful..meloncholy cry.. Unintentionally I wipe a teardrop dry

My dearest Mother I know that this is you.. your spirit has appeared out of the blue.. but you told me years ago that this is what you would do.. when life on earth had succomed you..Well I speak to my Mother without any hestitation.. and I thank her most kindly for her visitation.. I witter on with whispering words about this and that and silly absurds..

Yet there in my moment of magnitude..with my mindfulness mellowed.. I understood..My Mother had never ever left my side.. yes her shell had vanished so she could hide.. but her spiritual soul would always stay with me in the shape of an orb so I could see..

We all love Christmas day on the 25th of December.. when we get together with our loved ones making special times to remember.. And Oh what memories one and all makes enjoying all the fun of the festivities betwixt those yuletide breaks

Though as I sit today it is the last week of September and I stare into my dying fire poking at an ember.. I can’t help but wonder what on earth one will do.. sat amidst a lonely Christmas left feeling Oh so blue.. At this moment in time with these Covid-19 rules and regulations.. we are not allowed to get together with our family close relations..

Nobody wants to be alone at Christmas.. sitting pulling crackers by themselves.. munching on all those Xmas treats and nibbles from your fullup cupboard shelves.. Oh dear I feel such a sadness will be everywhere.. everybody will have an awful lonely Christmas because of Covid-19 this year...

Goodbye August with your summer season.. you have left us sprinkles of showery rain showers no doubt for a reason.. to prepare us for the Autumn and the shorter, darker days..as Mother nature weaves her wonderment with her incredible changing displays

Woodlands everywhere will be blowing in the breeze.. shedding Autumn’s withered, golden leaves from deciduous trees.. carpets of fallen foliage russet and red will be trodden and trampled on as walker’s tread.. And we will wrap up warm and add extra layers of wool as Autumn brings chilly air with weather that is cool

So farewell August as we welcome September.. Ah yes this season will show us recollections we can all remember..our ninth month in the calender year.. full of fantastic Autumn falls with colourful cheer..and of course August whilst it is sad to see you go.. we will look forward to greeting you again next Summertime..of this much we know..

Twas on the last day of September everything was still the same.. an infectious disease was sweeping across every nation and it was killing some people, Oh what a shame..

So we tightened up our social gatherings just like we had done once before, and we all dreaded that same total lockdown within our own frontdoor..right back from early Springtime until the onset of the Summer, each and every school, public house and hospitalities were all closed, that was such a ******..

Now some listened to their Government and obeyed the new rules and regulations but there were those who choose to ignore these much to the other’s frustrations.. so alas the pandemic spread and it was getting out of control, but we all longed for it’s demise, a vaccination was our goal.. and of course as the weeks and months passed by the rulers of the lands gave out tighter measures with orders and commands..

Now the moral of this story is indeed so very true, life as we know it has changed out of the blue..when one day we had normality and the next was dismay, with one and all trying to keep this infection away..And all we can do is to social distance and wear masks on our faces, whilst we are constantly santizing our hands in all the public of places.. Praying for purity for each and every nation, when Covid-19 becomes our history enjoying our new salvation...

Tittle tattle.. squibble squabble running  in a circle.. I’ve tried to sort it out but my face is now purple.. For pity’s sake please stop bickering coz life is too short..falling out over children should be the last resort!!!

He heard this.. she said that.. but does it even matter.. I can’t be bothered with all this negative chitter chatter.. history has happened and we cannot change that.. but it would be the best idea to brush it under a mat.. Nowadays there’s more than enough of trial and tribulations and it will stay this way until we get some vaccinations

Why can’t we all be friendly and forget about the past.. don’t you agree this unpleasantness is absolutely aghast.. shake hands if you have to but for Pete’s sake make up.. offer each other a drink from the loving cup..kids will be kids this is just what they do but you are making them miserable with your hullaballoo

Sticky licky toffee is becoming a mischief, clustered in claggy clumps inbetween me teef.. dam thing is as yummy as hell.. tis as sweet as can be.. but Oh my God how my teef are hurtin’ me...🤣🦷

Oh Mermaid and Merman
I have seen you in my dreams
Your tails are bright and beautiful
Dazzling like two shiny sunbeams

Do you swim and intertwine in the mystique fathoms below
casting little bubbles to the surface as you blow

Will you be married in the moonlight underneath the pretty twinkly stars
Will your carriages have six white seahorses pulling
You both in Rolls-Royce seacars

Oh Mr and Mrs Mermaids
I know this is all true
I watched you take Miss Mermaid’s hand
I heard you saying  “I do”

There was lots of other Mermaids
Of every shape and size
I peeped inside your banquet
I could hardly believe my eyes

You were all sitting at a big oak table
With Mermaids on chairs at either side
But you Mr Merman were sitting opposite your Mermaid bride

She looked very stunning
With her diamond studded veil
Her sequinned dress was so long
It covered all her tail

I didn’t want to leave you all
You partied allnight long
But my Mammy was telling me
To get up or I’d get wrong

You see I had to go to school
That’s what us humans do
So I woke up from my dream
Even though I didn’t want to

Oh how I wish I was a Mermaid
Swimming in the deep blue brine
Then I could play with your Mermaid children
They would be best friends of mine