Fiona, just want to let you know
we are by your side
We will be your strength to carry on
let our strength be your guide.

When times get tough, as time often does
our thoughts will be with you every step of your way
Let the rainbow of colours, of each and every shade
shine for you and then shatter the gloom and decay.

Think into the rose pink and the heavenly sunlit green
forget those yesterday's shadows, put them to rest
let the light bring happiness and joy inbetween
challenge the gloom let the shadows be depressed.

We are all with you in our hopes and our prayers
We will join hands and our prayers cannot be denied
Let these words give you both the strength to carry on
Because we love you both and we are by your side.
For Terry and Fiona
Such a lovely couple who have helped so many
and now it is our turn to help you.

You never know what is around the bend
whether the news  is good or even bad
We take it on the chin let's not pretend
whether we should rejoice or be sad.

Love is a precious thing
Hold on to it as much as you can
It definitely makes the old heart sing
I'm its biggest fan.
I dislike confrontations, splitting hairs
I would sooner just keep the peace
Whilst the other is kicking chairs
and his anger is on the increase.
Is it not easier to say "Oh well"
and just leave the situation be
it creates tension, a living hell
which is no good for him or me.
Love is a precious thing
hold on to it as much as you can
enjoy all the benefits it may bring
unless you have another plan.

Love is a precious thing
Hold on to it as much as you can
It definitely makes the old heart sing
I'm its biggest fan.
I dislike confrontations, splitting hairs
I would sooner just keep the peace
Whilst the other is kicking chairs
and his anger is on the increase.
Is it not easier to say "Oh well"
and just leave the situation be
it creates tension, a living hell
which is no good for him or me.
Love is a precious thing
hold on to it as much as you can
enjoy all the benefits it may bring
unless you have another plan.

Strolling along the footpaths in my mind
Kicking away unwanted leaves
Never knowing what I might find
or indeed what my journey achieves.

I know hopes and dreams are buried somewhere
in a file I clearly wanted to relive
Most of my dreams are on a wing and a prayer
and some of my hopes are wanting to forgive.

I come across memories from a short while ago
I sit on the bank and on my face there is a smile
Across the stream shines a golden glow
I plan to sit and dream just for a while.

I feel a chill and there is a twinkle from a distant star
I have lost track of time; dusk has arrived too soon
Visions of my youth has nudged me from afar
and I hear gentle whispers from the silvery moon.

The rain came
It was expected
Which is a shame
The sun reflected
Out came the sun
with a smile on its face
the show had begun
an image impossible to erase.
Colours of the dreamcoat
shone like an upside down smile
it got my vote
by as much as a mile.
I thought of the *** of gold
and who could I give it to
The air went a tad cold
I realised I was wet through
The rainbow seemed to know
of my thoughts and dreams
I thanked it for the show
and the colourful beams.

The Horse that won the race was named Peg
Probably apt because it had a wooden leg
This brave little horse
belted around every course
To stop it the rider had to coax it and beg/

This is an example of an onion that cried
His emotions having been pent up inside
He had said to his mate
"If I end upon a plate"
"I would rather be boiled than fried.

If your toast had to decide which spread
and on which side does it get put on the bread
If  it were for dipping
then it would favour the dripping
Oherwise it would opt for the jam instead.

There was once a goose with an attitude
Forever and a day he was in a mood
So if you see a goose
that is set loose
Remember he could be rather rude.

Spoonful of knowing what is right and wrong
handful of singing plenty
buckets of love all day long
replacing the toilet roll when empty
the willingness to give and take
massive amount of laughter
the skill to recognise the mistake
and being good to others forever after.

Mix all ingredients carefully together fora recipe of success.

The milky way stirs my soul
the spoon slides through the dream
Stars like sugar drops crash through clouds
like the coffee merging with the cream.
Look Heaven can be seen
Angels glisten like pure gold
Beneath the stars I see my lost ones
reaching out for their hand to hold.
The stars continue to shine
the night grows cold
I know that they are there still
waiting for me to grow old.

The milky way stirs my soul
the spoon slides through the dream
Stars like sugar drops crash through clouds
like the coffee merging with the cream.
Look Heaven can be seen
Angels glisten like pure gold
Beneath the stars I see my lost ones
reaching out for their hand to hold.
The stars continue to shine
the night grows cold
I know that they are there still
waiting for me to grow old.

"He that shouts loudest will be heard"
Said the man at the back of the queue
The rest of the people waiting observed
to see what he would actually do.
"Them that live the longest they know alright!"
The people waiting were now slightly bemused.
They wondered if in his head he was quite right
or if indeed he was just very confused.
The man at the back went very quiet in the queue
An air of mystery started to spread
They wondered if he was real like you do
He that shouts the loudest will be heard he had said.
Well that man at the back did not exist
We all have a voice in which to express how we feel
That being the case how could we resist
Them that live the longest know that that is real.

I can cheerfully say
my life would be empty without you.
The days would drag themselves along
every little thing you say, each thing you do
my heart rejoices and breaks into song.
My heart sings just for you, it beats just for you
Loving you is easy, I fall weak at my knees
Without you the day would be hard to get through
there would be no sunshine  no leaves on the trees.
The seas would run dry, streams turning to sand
there would be no tears left for me to cry,
I would no longer hold you by the hand
No fish in my pan for me to fry.
The days would be without time
There would be emptiness all around
My lemon would be looking for its lime
and the radio would be without sound.
I would live in a silenced world day by day
No song, no birds to whistle that is true
I can imagine I would have nothing to say
I will stay for the end of time, I think in loving you.

I walk into a room without thinking why
Why am I questioning myself I haven't a clue
I do silly things without reason, why
It is strange as I really wish I knew.
As I get older the days get shorter
Years turn into months so it seems
The hand on the clock is in denial I believe
Either that or it is in one of my dreams.
My hair has turned white under the radar
The old dye cannot be tricked anymore
Wrinkles fail to iron themselves out
the moisturiser has been shown the door.
The old age thing is creeping on too fast
Questions, forever questioning myself
where has time gone, where do seconds go
is there somewhere, some mysterious shelf.
It is like the shelf in my mind, the blank page
where things get put until the day I die
Then when my life flashes before me
I shall be demanding to know the old "why".

Life is like a merry go round
going round in circles all of the day
Sitting on a cold, golden horse
well, at least he knows the way.
Because one can get very lost
trapped in all sorts of ropes
some will tether you to shackles
some will give you a bit of slack
But the horse knows at the back
it is not always those finishing first
the winner
the hare and the tortoise sorted that
it is those that went the correct course
those that did the full nine yards
that achieve their merry go round.

There was never a time
a time when life was dull
There was never a moment
a moment packed full
full of surprises, to please.
I was never one to reduce to tears
but were they tears of happiness?
Maybe they were, who is to know
it is such a long time ago
when tears of happiness came.
And that in itself is a crying shame.
My hand was always in his
whenever we strolled down the lane
Now it is not quite the same
my hand is deep in my pocket
my pocket full of regrets
those regrets come with worry
but they are buried deep now.
And that worry does not surface.
It will, maybe one day, one day too late.
But there was never a dull moment
no hand on heart not in the pocket
there was never a dull moment.

May you rest in peace
This world has lost a good man
a kind, true gentleman.
A man who was proud of who he was
and what he had achieved.
There are no words to portray the
sadness that we all feel
May a million silver butterflies
guide your way to eternal peace.
May just one silver butterfly stay
by your side forever an a day.
We bow our heads in sadness Richard
for you will be forever missed.
If I see a silver butterfly,I will call your
name, tears will well in my eye but there will be a
smile -Richard Riddle RIP.

That day you left my heart sank
My blood failed to rush through veins
Even thinking about it my mind goes blank
my eyes flood with tears and energy drains.
You are so badly missed, I could cry
I do and I am, I live in a pool of tears
I know you have a new life to give a try
but it seems I wont see you for years.
The time you promise always gets put back
days go to weeks, then of course months, days
seemed a much better option, its months I cant hack
but then other times were hard, Christmas holidays.
Just want to see you face, hold you hand, things
that mother's usually do. Cook for you and make tea
do things mothers do and all the love it brings
hear my heart ache, listen to my prayer and hear my plea.

Smooth, silky and seductive
The pleasure was all mine.
Chocolate melting in the back of my throat
Dripping like the sands of time.

A new day is dawning
the sun outstretches to the sky
a promise of a lovely morning
the hours will drift by.
The blossoms scatter beneath trees
like confetti on a grateful path way
pedestrians are easy to please
another memory on a beautiful day
squirrels have left their usual trails
playing hide and seek among the pink
petals decorate the red in their tails
its not hard what the passers by think.
they are thinking lovely things
because that is what you do
that is what the morning brings
is that what the squirrels think too?
do they worry about putting food on the table
whether or not the market will crash today
will it rain? can I work? whether you are able.
what will I wear? have I money? what to say?
Problems, problems, challenges, and the like
will the traffic be a nightmare, which way to go
is it worth walking or shall I take the bike?
the melting *** has so many things in which to throw.
The squirrels are busy hiding their food for another time
They have their life sorted in a way
not bothering about problems, money or crime
to them it is just another beautiful day.

"Not called at a bad time have I"
The clock announced half past four
"You are looking grand Annie"
Said the old sop leaning on the door.

"Let go of this and I'll fall" he said
She considered a gentle push
"Keeping me upright this is"
She now wished she'd got a brush.

"Looking great for your age you old trout"
she seethed inside and didn't reply
"how about me and you ,together"
her reply - not a chance I can get by.

"You and me are a team
fetching and carrying my special tea
You never know your luck
I could get down on one knee"

Perish the thought she held the thought
Is this all I have now- is this all that's left
she visualised scraping the barrel
she could get less stress for theft.

She thought her 90 years had served her well
Maybe if her teeth were her very own
She put her hands around her girth
maybe she could lose a few stone.

She wanted a younger man
Not a wrinkled and smelly drunk
Whose hair had disappeared and
his whole person had shrunk.

Maybe one day I will get my catch
Annie would perhaps be happier than this
She rolled her hairnet over the sponge curlers
and the drunk had planted on her a big kiss.

She had red hair
like the glowing embers of a fire
Skin like soft peaches in June
I had no care or desire
to ever burst her bubble or balloon.
She was quiet
like a whisper in the dark
she was a colourful rainbow on a rainy day
she was perfect that is a I can say
she s my grandmother
she is my rainbow on my darkest day.

I stroll along a familiar path
that leads to nowhere
but it is somewhere to me
but then is life fair.
This path leads me straight
so that no deviation is necessary
as straight as a dogs leg
but then I am not fussy.
we pass hills too steep to climb
streams -too cold to face
clover, daisies and chalk we pass
now we have to pick up the pace.
The daisies remind me of you
pure yet straight laced
the clover makes me blush
are we tied to the same brush?
The wind sweeps the land
cleaning it of unwanted leaves
deep down it needs a good clean
the universe believes.
Dumping ******* on the earth
sweeps the mind of guilty men
this walk,I believe will eventually
happen once again.

She always knew fairy tales were held in a big glass jar
but they were released by just a buttercup and a big daisy
She sat staring at a new big glass screen which was bizarre
and she was warned that she would become very lazy.

The fact of the matter was the elf has installed electricity
which seemed to travel down a cord with three prongs
The other confused fairies looked upon her with pity
and thought she should not go where magic belongs.

She one day wished she could be a big glass screen star
it seemed to her that folk were jacks of all trades
she knew her dreams would come true held in her jar
and that one day she would wear proper clothes of many shades.

She positioned herself in front of the screen with her cash
and as if by magic the screen lit up and music played
and people were talking in front of her like a surprised flash
she was in her element, she was speechless, she was amazed.

The tree that held the screen confirmed there was another world
The images seemed real, they were moving, they could speak
her brain was on fire,  she listened. learned, and she uncurled
settling into her leaf, she could sit here any day of the week.

She put out her clothes each night on her tiny chair
for her day to be spent in front of the magic glass screen
it was important to her what she chose to wear
she did not want to be scruffy for the electric machine.

She watched television from morning to night fall
she made friends with new fairies and blue butterflies
she had become an expert on everything, anything at all
she was a television star, she was the fairy with square eyes.

Wish this icy friend of mine would stay awake
I have draped around me a green patchy snake
But when it wriggles
I get the giggles
but then end up with chronic backache!

Where peace existed, and a calm of the water used to flow
with a relaxed pace,with all the time in the entire world
No rush, just trickling along, no hurry, so slow
easing around stones in the brook, little waters whirled.
Now the great gale has passed, bashing down a stonewall
There is nothing more than hell with an angry splash
sticks are sent flying and the trees topple and fall
Leaves take flight and are gone as quick as a flash.
The banks supporting the water begin to crumble
streams give in and now gallop with a mad flow
road saplings take a death plunge and tumble
sand bags replacing them as soon as they go.
The banks now collapse
and out seeps the mud
barriers give in and snaps
the inevitable happens - a flood.

The call of the bird could be heard
from many miles around - its shrill
stirred every little berry and seed
from pillar to post, from hill to hill.

It nudged the sprinkling of frost on the posts
imprints left from the cold bird's claw
mumblings from distant old ghosts
leaving it for the morning sun to thaw.

A jigsaw puzzle of green lay about the countryside
dappling yellow fields of corn with bales of hay
this trend went on for many miles wide
the rain now splattering the red soaked clay.

But you know we have very little of which to complain
the seeds themselves leave a positive trail
dancing along roadsides and down the lane
tripping up and down the vale.

The evening sun fades to a silver  moonshine
the leaves around the hedge begin to blacken
the heads of the orange Welsh poppy decline
and the pink of the rose mingle with bracken.

The light from the lamps cast shadows in the night
the bird's call can once again be heard
curtains drape around damp windows shut tight
and on the cold twig sits the shy little bird.

I used to stand and admire all the colours of the sweet jars
all the splits, chews, sticks and lips red as cherries
all the funny shapes crammed in and the chocolate bars
and the herbal sticks made from very scented berries.

Mushroom shaped sweets rolled in toasted coconut and spice
watches to eat and pipes with sweets and scented dips
If you brushed your teeth after it was all very nice
then there were orange fish shapes with sweet rosy chips.

Fairy apples with golden pips,whistles to blow and ****
mixtures for throats, chest and for a very rainy day
gums and stoppers big as you like worth a second look
Even chocolate coins in a big jar next to where you pay.

Pineapple cubes and bottles tasting of your favurite drink
foamy shrimps and marsh mallows that are good to float
lemon drops and traffic light lollies make your heart sink
bubble gum bubbles that when popped stick to your coat.

Strawberry fizz and lemon bubbles that pop on your tongue
white mice with long tails and rose centred violets with cream
gob stoppers that would last all the day long
sweets of our youth are now all but a dream.

Different rides
swings and slides
coconut shy to aim for
Onion skins roasting
cheese on bread toasting
screaming out for more.
Sausages frying
girls crying
mum's had enough.
Dodgems whizzing
lemonade's fizzing
the boy's full of the stuff.
He's won take your pick
Waltzer's making 'em sick
Spend the extra time.
Burgers and sauce
Now full of remorse
as if it is a crime.
A day at the fair
nothing can quite compare.

The rigid strength it had felt cold like a fridge
the structure, the sheer length of the old bridge
never ending like a circular disc
cut throat business a huge risk.
The river flowed violently
they pushed on silently.
an echo was heard underground
it was a shrill, an evil sound
The atmosphere was flipping
the water was dripping
A situation they wanted to sever
the nightmare went on forever
The pace now became slow
the river ceased to flow
the memories they could keep
the river fell asleep
dried, crusted and wrinkled
they cried, their skin crinkled.
They were cold and old
their story was told.

There was an elf with square ears called Sid
Who lived behind a blue baked bean tin lid
His perfectly square ears
brought more than a few tears
this was the reason why he hid.

Now the other Elves knew it was wrong to judge and frame
they knew old Square Ears had a good name.
His ability to hear
with a lovely square ear
meant they had to watch how they played the game.

It was therefore the Elves belief
the Elf with the square ear had the best leaf
and the comfort it did bring
and the chance to sing
and the lesson here is not to dwell too much on grief.

The Fairy of the roe petal perfume
Knew when the flowers hit full bloom
The petals did drop
and they could  not stop
as she frantically swept with her broom.

She knew instinctively and could tell
by the colour and the attractive smell
All home grown
and a lovely tone
exactly the right time to sell.

The Fairies searched their stash
They knew at once they mush dash
They did not care about price
they wanted to smell  nice
and out splashed their cash.

Twenty questions, that is what it said
Just twenty straight forward off the cuff
Up the garden path is where it was led
and the questions were not that tough.

It asked did it have legs? I said no it did not
Did it have stripes? Was it the colour of red?
I shook my head and said it did have a spot
A soft one in my heart and now it is dead.

It was a colour that is in-between
The most pathetic colour you've seen
It was not this shade
because it would fade
in fact it looked better in green.

In and out they weave
through my thoughts
and in my dreams.
The bitter dreams stay away
nowadays sometimes.
and so it seems
the days of my life drift
sifting through the seconds
of precious time.  The sands fall
unexpectedly into the pit
my work my ambitions
my acts, my time, my sacred time
drip slowly through my cold fingers
Thawing nothing, achieving something
and that is to crack my thoughts
like ice into  hot glass.
Misting over my moments
steaming full speed into a future
where ice is not welcome.
Vapour leaves a trail in the orange sky
dont ask me why
it just does
Then it turns grey ,merging with moods
in clouds.
Movement disorders the arrangement
maybe the clouds are not good today
will the rain stay away
or will it dampen my day
the day of my life.

Picture this: salmon coloured coral with tangerine
Bordering an atoll, and fencing it in.
Emerald clear waters blotched with aquamarine
Crystal clear like porcelain.
Fish as red as berries stewed with damson
Or as yellow as a canary made from brass
Some resemble amber blushed with crimson
And roses with sap spilt on the grass.
Picture a kingfisher as blue as the sea
Brick red wings as sharp as blades
He perches on an old olive tree
With bark as black as the ace of spades.
Picture a raspberry ripple sky
Peaches and lemons draped in-between
Fields as gold as a baked cherry pie
And a rainbow settling on the green.

It is that time of year again
when snowflakes fall and fires glow
Robins appear from nowhere
in the crisp white snow.
Carols are sung and all is merry
Gifts are waiting for the big day
I hope Santa brings you all good wishes
and there is one thing left to say
from me that is Happy Christmas Everyone.

Rudolph has noticed his belly wobbling
and so have the rest of the crew
They have noticed him hastily gobbling
extra portions of Santa's special stew.

It takes him ages to get into flight
the rest of the team have to cope though
Which is difficult especially in the dead of night
when poor Rudolph cant see which way to go.

His belly is flapping this way and that
the reindeer behind him are starting to  giggle
They dont want to hurt him and say that he is fat
But everything Ruolph's got has started to wriggle.

Dasher and Dancer have been on the mince pies
and Prancer has been sipping the sherry
Which is hilarious when he flies
a reindeer is all over the place when he's merry.

Santa calls for them to fly in a straight line
But each reindeer cant keep a straight face
each of them has been knocking back the wine
not by the bottle I might add, by the case!

Each reindeer has now started to feel sick
Santa is now suspicious and thinks it is weird
for now he has started to discreetly pick
the tiny bits of carrots out of his beard.

They pull over and Santa is now not amused
he too feels hung over and has had enough
Rudolph chest feels as though it is bruised
from eating and drinking all that stuff.

Happy - I know that I will be
Disappointed - of course I am
When I get my wings I'll be free
to get me out of any pickle or jam.
Surprised - you can bet I was
Shocked - I know what I'm like
I can't just hop on a bus
or peddle like mad on a bike.
Content - I was at ease
Pleased - when an angel came
The joy brought me to my knees
Without my wings wouldn't be the same

Stack your purse with loads of money
tra-la-la la-la -la-la you will need it believe me
You are going into the land of milk and honey
where things are expensive and not so free.
The shopping thing is a never ending list
items just tag on the end day after each day
oh look another bargain not be missed
just dig deep in your pocket when it's time to pay
The sales are on and were they ever off
I think the word "sale" just entices you in
The prices just make the mouth froth
you lost out and the shop stands to win.
Standing in the endless queue
Tempers flaring and you just want to cry
All for the sake of having something new
But it is Christmas and you just have to buy.
You have to spend, spend and then spend
Squeezing every last penny from your savings
Your family has to have the latest trend
and you have to satisfy your cravings.
So get the battledress on and off you go
prepare to keep calm, keep sane
We all have to do it, because we know
it is that time of year again.

We had not seen each other
for over forty years.
We were both slightly nervous
each having own particular fears.
But then in she walked
It was if the missing years did not exist
and it was yesterday once more
I smiled and said "hello" then we kissed
Those in-between years just melted away
and we were sixteen once again
but we were more sophisticated
more so then we were were back then.
She was excited, I was delighted
to have my friend by my side
Kim, it was so lovely to see you
and for you my door is open wide.

It is 2 am and I am wide awake
There is a silence cutting the air
Hunger leads me to a cupcake
but there'is nothing there.
I listen to my teeth chattering
I am shivering,  there is no fire
Peeping I see a white scattering
Snow sits on the telephone wire
Everywhere is twinkling
The trees have decided to flop
There is definitely a sprinkling
of snow with a cherry on top.
My world's a white cupcake
It is 2 am and I am wide awake..

Far and few between
are my problems
but I knew that.
The endless queue for this
and that, it just grew
Into a squabbling line
I just knew.
Red faces, fast paces
screaming insults
Stamping feet, undone laces
not saving graces.
I just knew
I peel the vegetables
the floor is splattered
with peelings, not in my bowl
where they are meant to go.
oh no, the air is blue
I just knew.
The road is nose to tail
from beginning to end
would be quicker to mail
what I have to send.
I just knew
It is true I just knew.

He pulled up a chair
He tried to remember
It was in this square
and it was icy December.
He saw her point her toes
then she stretched her heel
Noticed how she stroked her clothes
she had so much *** appeal.
If only he could touch her cheek
She had ruby lipstick on her lips
If he did he could not speak for a week
and he noticed the curve of her hips.
Around her neck she wore pearls
draped lovingly across her chest
Her hair hung in tight curls
He closed his eyes to imagine the rest.
She glanced in is direction
He smiled his very best smile
he oozed with every affection
for he had sat there awhile.

Red is a colour I dread for fear of shame.

It was like watching a butterfly change colour
to match the landscape; rather fetching I thought
Until the poppy bowed its head to avoid fire
in a red lawned field where the heroes fought.
The noise, the flashes and sparks were obvious
a new threat for the red scorched flower
dying a death, remembering again at the eleventh hour.
The petals were crinkled, its life an open book
the wind throws its power to the weather vein
The headstones paraded in rows deserve another look
never do we want to see this horror again,

We must never forget
the heroes that fought - the brave
we owe them everything - yet
it saddens our heart seeing their grave.
A sea of poppies float silently
running into lakes and streams
they fought courageously, mightily
then to have shattered dreams.
The wind in the trees - it's a cool breeze
it detaches a single green leaf
that will not bring the tree to its knees
but a single red poppy will bring grief.

This is a tribute to a man who puts on a brave face
fetching shopping for himself in the wind and rain.
His name is John, his wife died and he is ninety two
His hard life gives him every reason to complain.

But he does not, he faces each day with a smile
Gritting his teeth, forgetting his tired weak bones
Rubs his knees, the face tells it all, one can see
but he does not whimper and never moans.

He carries on regardless even though he is ninety two
waiting at the eye hospital without a single cup of tea
The appointment is running two hours late in the queue
but he does not mind, he has people he can see.

He is lonely at home his wife dies four years ago
leaving him heart broken, alone but he is no antique
This tribute is real, there are many just like John
John you are strong you are definitely not weak.

If you see a "John" give him your time
go out of your way, step out of your queue
Because one day you will be old yourself
just like John who is alone and ninety two.