You know what it is like
the rush of the blood around
tired old veins
you know what it feels like
when an ache called old age
meets with new pains
But it does not have to be this way
A technique can rep;lace tired thoughts
a new method is on the agenda
gone are the what ifs
gone are the oh I dont knows
banned the I am not really sures
Go for it, do it, go on just do it.
You may find you like it
You know what it is like
when you are so happy you could cry
you know what it is like
when everything comes your way
you now know what it is like to have
your day filled with wonderment, surprises
for the better and the good.  Anxiety - who needs it.
Not you.  Not me
Get rid of this bad ******* for free.

There was a smell of Devon violets in the air
And the Pig noticed that there was a gentle breeze.
The Duck seemed to have combed his one lock of hair
And he was preparing to drop to his knees.

He fiddled with his apron trying to ****** it off
He was a funny shade of pale pink and blue.
He started his sentence with a little cough
“My friend, you know how I have feelings for you”.

“Yes, get on with it, what do you want to say”.
Nothing could have prepared to pig for the next bit
“My friend, you are my world, my Doris Day
More precious to me than the chair in which you sit.

“Do you want to go out for a drive?
You should have said earlier on.
Now it is late, it is nearly half past five
Very soon the day will be gone."

The Duck spluttered for him to be quiet
He had now a serious wrinkled beak
He regretted now going on a diet
But alas, he started to speak.

“My friend I have something to ask you, would you
Be so bold as to marry me.”
“What! Screamed the Pig. The subject is taboo”
And suggested that he was barking up the wrong tree.

The Duck went violet and embarrassingly stiff
“I didn’t mean to offend, forget it” and ran top speed.
He wanted to jump off a cliff
But knew e might just bleed.

So he hid for three weeks until his face went pink
He went a bit thin, but survived the humiliation
Hiding gave him time to think
Which only led to frustration?

He had to think of a plan
A rapid plan at that or he was in trouble
I will tell the pig I have become a different man
And that I look like the Duck, a duck double.

Then I will reappear as if nothing is out of place
He will be confused, I will be in the clear
He will say I remember that face
And I will have nothing to fear.

Bring a vat of chocolate and
cover each little petal with it
of that rose that stands tall
under the lamp dimly lit.
Is it dimly lit for a reason?
Is it to hide the smile you
have on your chubby little face
Committing the ultimate treason
Bringing misery to the place.
Your groans your moans are heard
through ears that are closed, shut tight.
Your contempt your smugness,
your chocolate coated fingers are soggy
with shame.  I blame you.  For you are
no longer in the promise of better things.
are you my heart throb
No you make my heart sob.
You are yesterday's news, ***** shoes.
Apart from giving me the blues, you
are not my valentine!

Perfection. How does one describe this
A reward maybe for being so perfect
Yes, a nice big fat juicy kiss
That would be nice wouldn't it. Correct.

To seek perfection within love, is personal
a sharing thing held between the magic two
Feelings which are indeed very valuable
but they might not be the same for me or you.

To get this feeling right then there is give and take
Learning to adapt, forgive, and make amends for
These things have to be perfected for everyone's sake
Otherwise you might be shown the old front door.

Learn to accept there will be times when the sky will be grey
Blue skies only come from laughter and happiness
Clouds gather then and then doom fills the day
leading to arguments and then nastiness.

It is at this time when humour, caring and a lovely smile
can go a very long way to parting those dark curtains in the sky
That is called perfection, the sun brings giggles for a while
and you just lie back and let the good times roll on by.

Let us pick clover, let us shower ourselves with roses
for the sun has come out and everything will be fine
Lie back and accept what the good time proposes
Make hay while the sun shines, always a good sign.

So bring those rose petals with their gentle perfume
scatter them before her, sprinkle them from above
Let the magic twinkle, let the stars sprinkle moon dust
Let there be happiness, let there be a perfect love.

Fear is an emotion
an adrenaline run
Like an awkward bullet
shot from a nervous gun.
Fear causes trembles
He who gambles with time
usually spills the wine
Creating havoc, no fun
He thinks it is fine
when all said and done
fear is a coward like the bully
scared, it is he who shakes in his boots
it is he that fears time, which is fine.
Fear is an emotion, a gentle tear
rolls down a cheek, looking for hope.
Pools of water, salty water,
cowardly like the tide,
a emotion, a ride
unknown ebb and flow
where the tear has nowhere to go
nowhere to hide.

It was the morning after the night before
Three bullet holes were embedded in the dress.
Strangely there was no blood on the floor
You don’t need to be an expert to guess the rest.

Because the event did not happen, it was all a dream
A dream produced solely inside the her head.
Things were not how they planned to be or seem
The future therefore is not real and definitely not dead.

He slithered into the room with a pipe hanging from his mouth
A stuck on pair of mutton chops and a green check cape
She hid behind a newspaper laughing unable to speak
Hatching a cunning plan from which to escape.

“So my dear, what were you dreaming last night.”
He was puffing awkwardly on his pipe.
I suggest I heard a scream just on when it became light
And you were muttering on about a blood type.

“Murderer” he shouted, and then slapped his hand across his lips.
Regretting his choice of word he quickly said “moody aren’t we
He fiddled with his watch chain swinging it to and fro
She tried to squint at him she could hardly focus let alone see.

He now was confused, slung off the cape which was getting hot
That was because it burst into flames from ash from the pipe
Which promptly landed on something he wished had not
It was a mess and needed more than just quick wipe.

However the newspaper she was holding went up in smoke
She heard the crash of a saucepan and its lid.
Thinking what now has he broke
Not realising he had fled and hid.

Now can you guess the rest?

The Power Of The Sea

Another bit of dry land
Crumbles and falls
Into waiting sand
And castle walls.
Properties on the cliff edge
Panic in a moment of terror
Together with surrounding hedge
Await the fate of the sea’s error.
Rushing, destroying anything in its path
The sea is relentless and with might
Having the ultimate last laugh
Homes become victims among the white.
Crashing to shore, salty spades dig deep
Etching lines, scraping the bank
Bags of sand, now useless to keep
Memories of what the sea has drank.
Copper, lead, bricks, never ending
The sea takes it all, every last drop.
The dry land crumbles sending
Its message to the evil not to stop.
The power of the sea,
Threatening our land in its way
Every home, every flower, every tree
The lot with uproot and break away.

One horse said to the other
"How come you have only one ear"
The horse replied "I don't bother
I can hear you loud and clear"

They were in the last race, the gun went off
The first horse shot off like the bullet did
The other horse just gave a loud cough
crept sideways and in the hedge it hid.

It waited till he heard the hot snorts
and the sound of busy hooves on the track
and then with all the craftiness it supports
he joined the horse race at the back.

The others were tired, thirsty and worn
he was not, he was full of the joys of spring
he made it to the front without even being warm
He was as cool as a cucumber, victory had everything.

"Where did he shoot from and how come he won,
He sprinted from nowhere, in fine form and in top gear"
"Well" said the winning horse, when it is all said and done
there is something to be said for having just one ear"

Sheltering under an umbrella
with the one that I love
gives me absolutely no
reasons at all to complain.
The constant drips from above
the umbrella held quite low
but then this is love in the rain.

The cool air rushes against our clenched hands
his fingers comforting my gentle palm
The support, the care oozes from his fist
I know that I am safe away from all harm.

We watch the oil form in puddles in the street
we are huddled in a corner watching time go by
Waiting for the rain to stop, the sun to reappear
Waiting with love in our heart for the blue sky.

He reaches for my face and draws me near
nearer to his sweet lips so warm. I like the taste
the taste of his sweet kiss under the umbrella
Love in the rain, oh yes, we must make haste.

We hear thunder clap its hands, the light show begins
The orchestra in the sky threatens more of the same
The black curtains fling shut, drama is imminent
and I definitely am in love in the rain.

Since the day we very first met
my heart skipped one single beat
Now it plays a merry love tune
when we decide to meet.

That meeting is every day, almost
when life is nothing but pure bliss
Love plays tunes all of the day
even when I am planted a kiss.

When the moon calls me to my bed
you are there to hold my hand all night
You are there when my eyes close
and when they open at light.

Forever and a day I will love you always my dear
When the hearts beat slowly and the poem has no rhyme
I will cherish you in my heart and dreams
because that comes with loving you for a lifetime.

House for sale or rent
the worm wanted the sale
he followed the footpath
along the silvery trail.
The directions he found well
there was a notice hung by a nail
he put on his spectacles and read
"available" do not fail.
He searched for more words
he had no idea what this meant
The snail shuddered under his breath
the worm sniffed the scent
This property belongs to a snail
he slithered away in disgust
he sulked as far as his worm hole
and settled amongst the dust.
Cant blame me for trying he thought
just wanted to upgrade
he cried cruel tears all night
and decided to keep the hole he'd made.

The bells rang out from the oncoming van
The Ice Cream Van it was, for all to hear.
Packed full of runny sauces enticed the man
To have the biggest ice cream and that was clear.
He delved into his pocket, oh you could feel the anticipation
The children were getting restless behind him and began to toss
abuse at the man looking for loose change,  the realisation
that it was a pointless exercise and it was his loss.
"Come on, get a move on" shouted the kids from behind
The man shuffled sadly away with tears in his eyes.
He plonked miserably on the park bench only to find
A little boy with feet dangling holding a nice surprise.
He had bought a big fat juicy ice cream and held it high
"Do you want this, I saw what happened, you can have mine"
Well the man looked at the boy and started to cry
To take this off the boy would surely be a crime.
But what the heck, he'd only get another, so he grabbed it
His tongue straight away licked like it had not licked before
"Oh good grief" thought the boy "he's enjoying every bit"
"he's behaving like a kid and his tongue will be sore"
But the man went at his prize hammer and tongue
Like he'd never seen an ice cream before and was in a flap
The boy became suspicious and thought it was wrong
But the man had a frown because the ice cream was in his lap!
There is a moral to this story if you can find it!

You can hear a pin drop
in my world; it is still.
Except the gentle beat of my heart
for that is not still.  Not yet.
But it no doubt will
be one day.  Not yet.
You can hear the silence
creeping in and out of rooms
closing doors in my imagination
Keeping the quiet at bay
locked in, that sort of thing.
Welcome to my world, the world of still
the world of nothing but silence.
That is not a bad thing, until
you are placed in that position.
Nobody ringing, no one calling.
Nobody to talk to just yourself.
The elderly do it, they manage it.
They have plenty to say, lived through.
It is tough, this silence, will I do it.

Uncomfortable
That is how I felt
All of my day
When is it going to melt?
When is it going to go away?
Sadness
Came over me
Tears rolled down my face
All of my day
Got to get out of this place.
Show me the way.
Anxiety
Waiting, waiting forever
With snow in my shoe.
All of my day.
What am I going to do?
Dont have to stay.
Peace
Toes warming in front of a fire
My feet are glowing a nice red
I am pleased to say.
Point me in the direction of my bed
It is the end of my day.

He turned and looked
As she walked the other way
That moment etched in his mind
It's been a nightmare of a day.
His solitary walk back to the car
Her footsteps echoing in his head
Replaying moments of the last few seconds
Going over and over what was said.
He didn't want to end it this way
But she obviously did  He shed a tear
The tear refused to fall, he didn't want to cry
Was this still love, was this brave, was this fear.
Three things spring all at once, so much to take in
Emotions are getting the better of him, that's for sure
Keeping them together, in perspective and within.
That is a hard thing to do when your life is in tatters
Lonely nights, quiet days now followed, every day
He did not want this to get this far on reflection
and now he has to put his hands up and pay.
The final goodbye is etched on his heart forever
She did not even turn to acknowledge his wave
Her confident walk as she floated away hurts
and it is an image in his head he did not want to save.
He kept repeating the phrase, the final goodbye
over and over to himself for the next few weeks
Now everything is so quiet, you can hear a pin drop
the house now moans and the roof creaks.
The final goodbye hurts still and will always hurt
There came a lonely knock at his door, he looked around
So many times tricks have been played with his mind
He wandered slowly to the door and without a sound
he opened the door thinking it was just a prank again
She stood there, his final goodbye had hurt her for a while
She looked for something in his expression, there were no tears
that was good, but there was something, it was a smile.

This fairy most definitely I’d call an imp
She’s out for anything to beg, steal or borrow.
She’d think nothing of actually buying stuff
Because she is the Fairy of Tomorrow.

Also known as the fairy of second hand rose
Nothing is her own, and never will be
If she can borrow it she will and sort of keep it
Notwithstanding it has no guarantee.

Second hand rose, but then again she is smart
Best fairy shoes and decent frilly lacy dress
She doesn’t have a friend so that is okay
Meaning she has no one to impress.

Which is quite sad in a way, everyone has friends
But not her she has never had one, that’s true
An assessment of her social circle, one could say
Is under scrutiny and is long overdue.

She’s not bothered, she gets by
She is happy enough and whistles all of the day
She has plenty of shiny coins in her drawer
And has plenty of treasure stashed away.

She is no fool, this Fairy of Tomorrow
Nothing wrong with being a second hand rose
She is in fact quite wealthy; the others are unaware
Even though she wears other fairies clothes

Imagine walking into a silver haze
A silver carpet laid out for you
to gently tip toe to your place of rest.
To be peaceful, graceful, serene
Imagine the silk of their wings
Stroking your body, calming
Sensing your fear, absorbing it
and releasing happiness instead.
Imagine a million silver rose petals
The intoxicating perfume filling your world
Inviting you in, harmony surrounds you.
Imagine an angel, a million angels
protecting you, guarding you.
Being there for you every second of your day
Imagine a million silver butterflies
To carry you, to be with you always
They are there, just look.

She sat admiring her nails
Comparing each and every one
But she had chores to do, boring
She sat and wished her chored were gone.

She'd wriggle out of them if she could
and almost every day she pulled it off
Creating excuses left, right and centre
from her finger hurt to a very bad cough.

She bend over and pretend to be sick
just to get out of doing something she ought
But one of these days the little fairy
will definitely end up getting caught.

She just cannot be bothered, let someone do it
she had plenty to do like inspect her nails
But somewhere down the line she should know
that she is slightly going off the rails.

The moral of this fairy story is just simply this
hard work never hurt anyone and that is a fact
Do not let your standards and attitude slip
and what is far worse is getting caught in that act.

Be bothered, be in charge of your goals
Act like you are responsible for what you do and say
Because believe you and me that this is the best
because you feel like you are making the most of the day.

To me there was never any drawback
it was just simply child's play
looking back down the old track
it was a typical British railway.

It was just brilliant in its heyday
chugging along with a smokestack
through tunnels and the odd archway
I can safely say I never looked back.

All those hard workers on the payroll
leaving memories along the track
spending all day shovelling coal
everything they wore and owned black.

Some days their breath dried and they cried
from the young lad to the station guard
but they all had something called pride
even though their memory's were all scarred.

The whistle could be heard "all aboard"
and off it would go chugging
the steam puffed and the engine roared
regardless of the carriages it was tugging.

Through every village an every vale
it relentlessly ploughed
along each track and each trail
leaving its white fluffy cloud.

Travelling along tootling down
from hill to hill down the track
from coast to each and every town
and I never looked back.

The crops are being gathered in, root vegetables from cold earth
Pickles are being made - you reap what you sow.
The baker madly gathers his flour for what he is worth
pounding and kneading his early morning dough.

He rests wearily for a tea break in the shade
Keeping an eye on his ever rising bread.
Fit for the ultimate preserve - marmalade
his tongue licks his lips thinking of the spread.

He rests where the leaves entwine with the mauve
Lemons hanging in the sunshine - there is a lot
The oranges ripening in the cool of the grove
His hands are tired and he cares not a jot.

He can smell the fruit simmering in the copper pan
The sugar preserving the taste of the cherry
It is then poured into hot glass jars and labelled "jam"
Placed onto the shelf with every other kind of berry.

Dressed like a waiter was he
In black, white and blue
He thought everything was free
He thought everything was true.

Oh it swirls around
Words merging into one
One mix of loveliness
When the day is done.
Singing a song in my sweet head
Blood pumping to the beat
My heart is that drum
and my toes tap on my feet.
If I did not have this
This facility, this tune
I would be a shambles
a fading light in a moon.
My day would be dark
filled with worries and the like
No hopes or dreams imaginable
No bell to ring on the bike.
No stars would shine,
No glories to be
Just worries that are mine
But I dont have that
I have a song to sing
A star to shine
a bell to ring.
I have hope and I have glory
My dreams are about to happen
I have an end to my story.
I have a song to sing.

There lives a fairy at the bottom of my garden
She resides in the third mushroom down
she appears not to have much space you see
but she has the largest fungii in town.

She is a lucky one but does not realise it
I dare say she owns more than most
she has a flower stal to hang her washing on
which is no bigger than a small post.

She is lucky she does not have to pay rent
she reckons she has not mushroom to spread
but you know fairies have such large demands
so another plan is needed here instead.

She is looking to go to another toadstool
which is way too small for her box of tricks
She has her beady eye on another abode
and this time it is made out of bricks.

Standing on a street corner watching, noticing.
Just watching the world drift on by.
The clouds picture stories in the sky.
The shapes of the clouds messing with my head.
Picturing my life in shapes instead.
A boat chugs through the murky canal
picking up ***** carrier bags as it struggles
through reeds and roots strangling its hold.
Watching the swans bow to the cygnets
gracefully noticing their young, white and bold
Their orange beaks signalling to the boats the way to go.
Waiting and watching go hand in hand
Like the bride and groom standing on steps to the altar
waiting and watching the day unfold their fears
bringing hopefully happiness to wash away the years.
Watching time go by.

He needed a plan in which to inject
He knew his friend had become very hurt
So he has decided to treat him with respect
And buy him his favourite colour tee shirt.

That did not work so he’s bought a scouring pad
Well somewhere somehow one has to draw a line
And this thought he had made him feel really glad
Because it meant his friend could make his saucepans shine.

This friend was sinking into further depression
His whole being felt sort of broken.
He sat with his little face without expression
And what is more he had not spoken.

Friends these days have to be sort of thick skinned
Especially when you run out of hope.
Life is not like a a mad, mad whirlwind
But dwindling like soap on a rope.

Out of the blue
he grabbed me
sent me from pillar to post
there was little to oversee
but I saw my ghost
it was the shadow of me
a year in which to come
there was little to oversee
just that I saw what I'd become.
I did not care for the vision
it scared me beyond my dreams
there was little to oversee
or so it seems.
Cant alter my past but
I can make a change to the present
could do nothing more than I did
and believe me it was not pleasant.
I grabbed my shadow and bent the rules
I surrounded it with a home truth
I told it I am not what I used to be
I had in fact altered my youth.
The shadow disappeared
out of the blue
and then it reappeared
it had made me brand new.
So my life has changed
just as if it was on cue
all of this happened
it was if it was out of the blue.

Shooting into and then out of the cosmic bars
was a sports fan from the planet Mars.
He'd obtained a one way ticket
to watch the outer space cricket
But was so drunk all he could see was stars.

Rudolph is prompt and it is a quarter past eight
He is in a panic thinking that Santa will be late
You'd think with all the elves he employs
they would be on the ball with the toys
he then hears Santa whistling and panting
under his own breath he is stressing and ranting
then through the valley vale and fells
hark it is the sound of the sleigh bells
at long last Santa is definitely on his way
Rudolph and his team pulling the  heavy laden sleigh

Said Oliver gritting his shiny teeth.
Why he wanted more slop
More oats and cold water
The very thought would make me stop.

A slight of hand
will mystify you
a wave fo the wand
will do too.
But to place in a hat
which has become a habit
his daughter's pet
a disgrunled rabbit.
The pull it out
when the magic word's said
accept the applause
and place the hat on his head.
Is a bit of a disgrace
for the poor pet
look at this pitiful face
that's  as much as you will get.
Noh shock, no suprise met by all
is it magic then one would say
the rabbit does not want to know
s llong as he eats at the end of the day.

It is enough to make any decent fairy cry
To have wings but not able to fly.
They were as white as milk
Soft and gentle as rich silk
But they would not flap and she did try.

Terrible.
Utterley terrible.
Baking in the blasting heat
just for somebody to eat.
Being tapped on my bottom
to check it is cooked.
They could tell if it was soggy
if they ever looked
Maybe it is my fruit
perhaps it lies funny
perhaps it is the temperature
maybe I've become runny.
I've sat in the pantry
for a day longer than I should
I'd love to run away and hide
if only I could.
I want to break free
and become a ****
smother myself with jam
what a riot I would start.
No more a cake, more of what I want to be
and a noise is what I want to make
but instead I sit here unnoticed
I am a stale uneaten cake.

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.

My senses are on fire
Now,  how do I explain?
You see I never tire
from listening to the rain.

The gentle fall of every little drop
plopping gladly on my windowsill.
It is the splash,  the plip and the plop
and the dark of the clouds perfectly still.

The fresh smell it brings revives
Each and every living thing.
It is that makes the garden survive
and allows my heart to sing.

Oh what a high ceiling
And look how the paint’s peeling
I’ve got a wonderful feeling
That you’ll have to dig deep and pay.

Oh and the clothes want mending
Then its off to the washer I’m sending
And by the way thanks for lending
The money for me to do it today.

While you’re at it I will take a seat
While the nice lady buffs up my feet.
Then after my treat, I will eat
Chocolates upon a milky tray.

The dog admired himself in a puddle
"I have a glow like nothing ever before"
Different colours are about my being
He stirred the puddle with his paw for more.

He did not stop to realise why he had oil
smeared around his claws on his paw
He was so deep in thought about mystical science
he had no idea about the luck of the draw.

"Too clever for my worth I deserve to be human
They would cross my paw, sorry palm with money
He was now a bit confused, his brain's not that big
and he was back dreaming of milk and honey.

Or rather bones and a big chunky steak
to satisfy his hungry tummy, he's such a size.
To complicate matters, he is on a dried food diet
which has come as a complete surprise.

It was an offer at the supermarket that won the deal
"That is not food" -poking it with his paw in his dish
He searched for gravy - there was none, dried up like the puddle
Now he was searching for a wand to wave to get his wish.
To complicate matters, there was not one.

A spectrum of light smashes through a cloud
Piercing the blue with an array of colour
Stabbing the ground with a *** of gold
A bold statement arches the daytime sky.
It is raining, drenhing the soil
Moreover, the sun decides to shine
No more grey skies, thank you very much
A rainbow of colour lights up our lives.
There is light, just follow the rainbow
There is a way to smash problems around
Pierce your dreams and change course
Maybe your dreams will begin to shine.
No more problems thank you very much
A rainbow of colour will light up your life.

Take the wool from my eyes
keep me forever near
Silence the moans,still my soul
for I am alive, still here.

Always place you hand in mine
for then I have nothing to dread or fear
Dry my tears, still my worrying soul
for I am alive, still here,