Life is very much like a box of tricks
Making up for what you lack
Roll the dice and hope for the six
Or will it be King Queen or the Jack

Or is it the ace you are always looking for
This is the card of which I am fond.
It is a pity then that there are only four
Still, there is always the magic wand.

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!

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.

Maybe I looked in the wrong compartment
Wrong shelf, not the same drawer or place
Did I go to the wrong store at the wrong time
There is no smile on my happy looking face.
Just sadness behind the smile, full of woe
Mondays 'child is fair of face did they say
I wish I was born on the day with far to go
Yes I have a face to move mountains,
turn heads and light up the darkest of room
But that is hardly a fitting moment when the
old life is full of doom and endless gloom.
Where is the love that was promised on the tin
the shelf that said love was in my palm of the hand
I don't have it it went away, it sank, it dissolved
Like falling rocks, grinding to a halt like stubborn sand.
Where is this so called love, is it gift wrapped?
With a bow on it that says "open me now". Where?
I have searched on every possible shelf, hidden corner.
All that I found was a note with "I do not care".

To you I raise my frothy glass of beer
To wish you all the best and lots of good cheer
I wish you good health
with lashings of good wealth
And may you all have a Happy New Year.

It was morning, a miserable morning
One that was over in a flash
Suddenly without any warning
He decided to count the cash.

This sent him into an instant flap
He fiddled nervously with a saucepan lid
This was definitely some sort of trap
Wondered what the outcome would be if he hid.

“Young man, come here” the Manager shouted
Something appears to be missing.
His crinkled lips was now pouting
And his throat had started hissing.

“He does not trust me” he thought
After all the things I have done for him.
He was frantically hiding the things he had bought
And envisaged the situation looking grim.

A stash of cake and jam, lemon curd and honey
Silver nice things that he liked to buy.
He was not used to handling money
So he had a day practising how to buy.

It is not his fault if he spent the lot
He thought that they had loads more.
The amount he had spent had been forgot
Well his investments were banked offshore.

He did not want to upset his ten year bond
And his thousands were doing very well.
The extra noughts of which he was fond
And his shares he did not want to sell.

He was never aware of his wealth
Obviously did not know about being poor
He never worried about money or health
But alas the Manager was now crying on the floor.

His greed was now not nice
Maybe he should come clean and reveal his stash
His greed had definitely made him pay the price
He offered just five thousand and the rest of his cash.

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?

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.

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.

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.

Whether you learn to keep your calm
or throw a wobbly type of panic
Where you choose to scream after
well that is optional.

Whether you choose to voice an opinion
or just to hold your tongue and stay silent.
But afterwards moan to yourself all day.
well that is optional.

Choosing your mid-week food shopping
whether it be best neck of lamb
or the most expensive cut of meat
well that is optional.

Being polite, knowing one's place in the room
Being nice and agreeable, the perfect host.
Being the nicest person in the world
That is important.
But for some optional.

I wish all poets on Hello Poetry a very Happy Christmas and may your New Year bring good health and happiness to you and your family.  Cheryl

Like a cloud reaching out for that little bit of warmth
Amongst its damp, cool white froth and foam
The tangerine arms of the sun drape themselves
around the cool and evaporate the bubbles home.
There is hope for the day and it will brighten up
the dim , the dark, the poor and the lonely
Tidy away all despair, bin all the dreams of dread
and bring inspirational hopes and thoughts only.

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.

Why worry - put your worries off till the next day.

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.

Why is it I can only ever find one glove
Always when there is snow falling from above
Only one I have lost
At my unfortunate cost
One glove, cold hand, spread the love.

I'm the proudest mum
I have got to say
I love my two sons
forever and a day.
I love them more than
there are stars in the sky
more than blades of grass
I will tell you why.
They are both gentlemen
respect others, and are polite
work hard, are as handsome as can be
they do their best and what's right.
My sons mean the world to me
I am so very proud. that is true
so to each of my loving sons
i say I will always love you.

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Funny sitting on my perch
next to someone like you.

It is funny also
I see your beak move up and down
But you are speechless
and I wear a frown.

This shiny thing is in the way
move closer to me.
The funny little bird confused
and what he can see.

Dont understand this he thought
Strange powers at work here.
Perhaps if I kiss this little bird
it will all become very clear.

Oh she is hard like glass
My beak is now crinkled and sore
I gave her a big kiss on her beak
and I wont be going back for more.

Such is a time when
Admiring the flow of the river
The reflection of the birch
Its bark so patchy and silver.
The call of the dove
Breaks the silence of the flow
Water cascading against a pebble
Lapping the bank where reeds grow
And otters play at night.
Four babies and mother
silver like the moon
streaks across the reflection
and very soon
shadows will be gone
the sun will arrive
and the otters will depart
and once again
the circle of the silver will start.

It is all one big joke.
A bloke goes into a room and cries
Smoke is all doom and will soon rise.
Seems mysterious ways suffice.
Smoke is lying close to the ground
spreading itself all around.
Masks guard faces, guards over fires
hot fat to ignite and melting wires.
Fat in the pan sizzling beyond belief
one spark, one light and it will be grief
it will be grief.

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.

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!

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.

Rock pools scattered with salty froth
drain quickly to reveal life
Little shrimps cling to samphire
The rushing white wave
beats to the shore
creeping gingerly to the rock cave
as if it has been there before.
The midday sun
settles for the afternoon
the sunbathers just begun
their timed basking on the dune.
A weathered dry oar
lies abandoned on the sand from an old boat
together with bits of ******* washed to the shore
just lying there, anything that would float.
Cracked shells, washed pebbles, and bits of flint
in blues, greys, creams and coral coloured stone
lie draped around the edge of the beach
with seaholly, blue grass and bits of fish bone.
The smell of the sea washes against your breath
you feel alive, but your skin feels dry lie salt
the breath taking views make you good to be there
It is just nice to hear the wind, the sea, the gulls
the call of the dolphin , it is just nice to be alive.

Today I think of others
others lying cold in the street
surviving on nothing
with cold hearts and feet.
All they want is a chance
a hope a dream to come true
a meal, a drink a bit of love
and that coud come from you.
It could come from me as well
and I will do all that I can
open a door, open your heart
a welcome is all that they need
a hot meal will do for a start.
I am giving my coat today
to someone to keep them warm
in this cold biting wind
cold bittter snow that blows a storm.
It is no joke, lying with all but a box
cardboard to keep out the rain
endless cold days is enough
to drive anyone insane.
Give all you can as I will do today.
Thank you for reading this
and togther we can help.

"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.

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.

My grandmother used to sing this to me in her sweetest voice.

"Here we are again
as happy as can be
all good folks and
jolly good company.
Never mind the weather
never mind the rain
here we are together
and whoops we go again.

I just thought I would share this old rhyme,
It is simple but it has a message.

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.

Like diamonds sparkling on the beach
A simple grain of sand glistens
Windswept, drowned by the tide
But it listens, oh yes it listens.

Been around forever, forever and a day
And will be there for many more years.
Windswept, drowned by the tide
But it hears,  oh yes it hears.

As "Lauren" would proably say "Yes I'm bothered
but then am I? Bothered. I ought to be, my tale
will be told.  My heart broke the day you went away
it's as if my heart went up for sale.
My very being packed its emotional baggage and left
left the part of me that was needed, wanted not able
not able to cope any more, the part cries out tearfully
my cards were dealt and shuffled and spread on the table
religiously, hopefully not in a way unblessed, but wished
wished that that part would return,come home, return
but the feelings attached detached themselves and
for the want of a better word left to ignite,set fire  burn
The heat left scorched my soul, brought feelings
to the front I never knew existed, never knew they were there
but I often wonder why now, did I believe it, did I know?did I want this and also did I just care?

This is the story of diamond Fred
who spent endless hours in his shed
now that sound insane
but he could not refrain
from using his clever old head.

He would use his time to invent
and savoured every precious time spent
He was a Jack the lad
but that was not at all bad
his inventions were thoughtfully meant.

The fact that after they were made
they refused to work he was afraid
he was missing the old bolt
but it was not his fault
if his invention did not make the grade.

So he sat one day rubbing his old head
and came up with a bright idea instead
His faith had returned again
thanks to his marvellous brain
he could knock down and replace the shed.

Now was this really a good plan
he was now getting a rather old man
he let out a grunt
to put it a but blunt
his ideas were given an all time ban.

His wife took away the shed key
after  a long and painful plea
his wife saw red
and banned old Fred
he is now as miserable as can be.

The one thing that he could ever dread
was staring out of the window in his bed
he glared at his wife
he once had his own life
now he has to be a husband Diamond Fred.

There is an owl on the gate and he is singing “tu whit tu whoo”
He is not sure whether he is at Chelsea or indeed at Kew.
The Pig knew here there were well to do types
He also knew that bamboo was green and had stripes.
There were ladies dressed in white Broderie Anglais
The Pig was vile covered in Italian Spaghetti Bolognese.
The Pig said “Oh I do really beg your pardon
I do like a good nosh up in your garden”.
The Duck preferred a patch with movement and flow
The Pig on the other hand stuff hadn’t chance to grow.
The Duck needed style, imagination and some shape
And all that the Pig required was a simple landscape.
The Pig needed mud and a garden full of sweet roses
Rather a contrast but his stuff just decomposes.
Both were impressed with the Chelsea Flower Show
And shot off to see what they could plant and grow.

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.

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.

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.

In places where dreams dare to meet
thoughts are scattered on the floor
ideas just waiting patiently on the street
and major break throughs hang on the door.
Under the biggest bridge you come across
Over the toughest hill anyone could climb
Meeting for the first time the strictest boss
and earning money to keep and say "that's mine".
Situations come and go like the wind and rain
Heart aches and headaches show their face
but then out comes the sunshine and kills pain
and whatever situation, it becomes a nicer place.