Four letters for a four letter word
That may sound to you somewhat absurd
But we cling on to them, we all need hope
It is these little letters that let us cope.

Noise, non-stop din from within
Rattle rattle went the lid,
half jokingly joining in
like a big spoilt kid.
The door slams, the wind howls
rain beats down in torrents
the cat sprays, the dog growls
it is all happy accidents.
Guns blazng in the summer afternoon
from a western on the telly.
should be something nice on soon
and also something sweet for my belly.
That is howling too, with hunger pains
But now there is something different
Whispers in the dark as the clock gains
and then it came and they all fell silent.

Call me old fashioned
but the sight of a kipper tie
is like nothing on earth
candy for the eye.
Bell bottoms on your jeans
bells hanging around your neck
Jazzy colours on your shirt
and nobody gave a heck.
Permed hair-dos on each head
everything went to the extreme
The Bay City Rollers
and you were living the dream.
The Osmonds you fell in love with
David Cassidy sending you in a spin
The sounds of the seventies
a memory you keep locked within.

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 dwindlig like soap on a rope.

Woken
With a smash
Broken
From a clean wash
Folding out creases
That bother
Picking up the pieces
From a father
Left long ago
Sad times then
Although
It wont happen again.
Broken
Silent
But outspoken
Violent
Never
But broken.

Lift the blanket and peep out
The rush of wind hits the socket
a finger dares to explore the cold air
That gets shoved back in the pocket.
Oh it is oh so cold out there
I can hear the wind rush round the trees
I wonder if Jack Frost has been
I can now feel the cold around my knees.
Well take the bold step and out I pop
from the safety and warmth of my bed
A quick dash here and a quick dash there
Pull on the nearest warm thing and off I shoot
To the kitchen for my tummy to be fed!

When you go through the darkness
and you travel briefly across the light
Through your pain and then your sorrow
You are destined then to win your fight.

The pain was tough, we know
the sorrow was the very least tragic
then fresh hopes and dreams were born
and then through the silence came magic.

Sparkles dropped like raindrops from above
shining like gems from a newly commissioned crown
Overwhelming feelings of happiness
turned the frowns upside down.

Through your disaster comes triumph
Through the dark it seems you have won
This feeling, take with you ever after
because today your new day has begun.

This little man
Will do all he can
To eat all his beans
And avoid his greens.
For him it is considered beneath
To keep clean his teeth.
There is little hope
Of owning a bar of soap.
To let an evening pass
He would roll in wet grass.
Then to get himself in gear
Knock back four pints of beer.
He has been told “elf”
Take a look at yourself
You have got yourself to blame
You have brought much shame.
You must go through a door
And find it in yourself to explore.
So it was that he became irritable
With the thought of eating a vegetable
He knew he was quite snappy
But what would make him happy?
Slow breathing in and out
Just made him want to shout
Who would want to embrace?
His ugly little face?
So he had a choice
Led by a comforting voice
Choose which door
He needs to explore.
Go through the door of red
Where one stayed in bed and just ate bread
Or the door painted green
He would get himself clean
Or go through the door marked blue
Find out what he is addicted to.
That thought was just plain crazy
He knew he was lazy.
He was the little man with a very short shelf
Plonked on a label branded a very lazy elf.

Standing in the middle of the street
Wearing his very best of clothes
Trying to look all romantic and discreet
Clutching a single red rose.

She opens her curtains and looks through
And his eyes water as she looks divine
He shouts to her  "my darling I love you
Will you please, please be my valentine."

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.

There was once a woman that ate cheese
She thought it kept away disease.
But apart from being old
It was very icy cold
because she kept it in the deep freeze.

The way I used to giggle
the thickness of my hair
when I walked I had a wiggle
and men would stare.
I smiled and the world smiled
I laughed and everyone did the same
My phone was always on dialled
I was at the top of my game.
Then Mr P took hold of my life
he demanded I live by his rule
now it is all trouble and strife
and the pain I have is just cruel.
But do you know what Mr P
I have had enough of your ways
I do not want you in my life anymore
I want to have nicer days.
So Parkinsons disease can take a hike
to pastures new and then get lost
go on get on your bike
Im free from you now at no further cost.
Well I am not but in my head I am
I can do without all of the stress
Mr P brings plenty of that glam
Im glad my life is not now a mess.

You know what it is like
you bump into someone
and you have seen them before
but the name - it's gone!

Standing there in desperation
sieving the corners of your mind
not really paying attention
and trying to be nice and kind.

If you say the wrong name
you are in a sticky situation
Got to say something and it
is back to the old desperation.

So you start clutching at straws
feeding in bits of "I want a clue"
Searching through the grey areas in the mind
wondering what on earth to do.

But the mind plays tricks on us dont we know
and it has us wiping the floor.
When thank goodness a good thing to say is
Have I seen you somewhere before?

He is an eating machine
who gives himself grief
Devouring expensive cuisine
Whilst sitting on his leaf.

The time he sit there is brief
Gosh the minutes are umpteen
Boredom gets beyond belief
And his language is obscene.

The little frog – yes that is a relief
You’d think would be nice and clean
In the water he is the God, the chief
No wonder he is a funny shade of green.

There was once a man from York
Who had a craving for salty pork
But what was worst
He had the most terrible thirst
Drank the wine but swallowed the cork

Disappearing in the winds of time
Drowning in a sea of love
Beaming up with the moon beams
To somewhere unknown above
When up there if you get a chance
See the disappearing coast lines and bays
See the dwindling numbers of species
And then tell me what God says.
If you get a chance
Take note of all the plastic
floating in the sea of doom
See it ride with the tide
wash with the froth
see the effervesence combine with the foam
of the natural fizz of the salty drink
then realise what mess we are in
it really makes one stop and think.
One day when the seagulls fly
they will land on rock, no sea, no foam
there will be no earth as we know now
just plain boring rock, no life, just a shell
of former glory.
No white waves, no floaty clouds
just a memory.  One day.

This little man
Will do all he can
To eat all his beans
And avoid his greens.
For him it is considered beneath
To keep clean his teeth.
There is little hope
Of owning a bar of soap.
To let an evening pass
He would roll in wet grass.
Then to get himself in gear
Knock back four pints of beer.
He has been told “elf”
Take a look at yourself
You have got yourself to blame
You have brought much shame.
You must go through a door
And find it in yourself to explore.
So it was that he became irritable
With the thought of eating a vegetable
He knew he was quite snappy
But what would make him happy?
Slow breathing in and out
Just made him want to shout
Who would want to embrace?
His ugly little face?
So he had a choice
Led by a comforting voice
Choose which door
He needs to explore.
Go through the door of red
Where one stayed in bed and just ate bread
Or the door painted green
He would get himself clean
Or go through the door marked blue
Find out what he is addicted to.
That thought was just plain crazy
He knew he was lazy.
He was the little man with a very short shelf
Plonked on a label branded a very lazy elf.

As a mother of two grown up sons
I have always felt proud of my boys.
What is a mum?
A friend till the bitter end.
A support when times get tough.
I am the money tree at the bottom of the garden.
They confide in me,
We laugh together
Joke together
But above all and everything else
We all love each other through thick and thin.
Rough and smooth.
Day and night forever and ever.
I am so proud of my sons, so very proud.

Fear is an emotion
An adrenaline run
One that orders hairs
on the skin to attention.
A fright, a scare.  An upset
to the system.
Since time begun
From cavemen to now
Fear has made us stronger
otherwise we would not survive.
Live, breathe, come out alive.
But nobody likes fear.
It is not nice to now, experience
Life changes into first gear
for power, to exist, to run.
The breath gets short,
the heart moans and groans
under protest. It has fear.
We all do, but wish we had not.

When I stop and sit for a while
and think exactly what I do have
well that brings a smile to my face
because what I do have money cannot buy.
I have friends that care, are always by my side
through thick and thin, in stormy weathers.
They make my dark times bright
they make rainy days seem nice.
They turn clouds into sunshine
Make my days worthwhile.
My friends mean everything to me
And now at a trying time in my life
I can smile because they are around me.
My friends, without them where would I be.

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.

Looking through and reading poems
here on our wonderful site
I am so proud to be here with you all
Where else could it be so right.

You are all all brilliant with the written word
Each and every letter placed just so.
You put smiles on faces, bring tears to eyes
I know if I want cheering up I haven't far to go.

This is a very confusing issue
It has doubt written all over it.
I read my work from the start
to the terrifying end.
And then that thought springs to mind.
Will it ever trend
I have to agree with Phil
I sit and I stare and at the end of the day
I dont care.
I write to make a smile appear on a face
Somewhere, sometimes, some place.
That if I have achieved it is good enough for me.
I just want to make one smile

Sherbert in edible cases looking like spaceships
some can even glow in the dark.
ripe red and rosy fairy apple pips
and a candy bar looking like a great white shark.
Jet black licorice in the form of old men's pipes
All the colours of the rainbow in sugar rice
Mints with spots and evenly spaced stripes
some quite strong and don't taste that nice.
Little ***** of tastiness that look like blackberries
a jar full of fizzy fish
a bowl full with lips smelling of cherries
and little jelly cola bottles in a dish
Squares of pink and white coconut ice
chocolate and *** and raisin fudge bars
and there are little white sugar mice
and cinnamon and ginger stars.
All the good things from years ago.

A million little fairies
dance through a particular night
hanging moonbeams on the oak
securing them tight.
Silver ribbons, white ribbons
pinks one too, floating in the breeze
fairies flitting in and out
hiding amongst the leaves.
All but one tiny fairy
she refused and kept quite still
she reflected just for a second
then rolled speedily downhill.
she was trapped in a tight spin
collecting bracken in her hair
coming finally to an abrupt halt
in a lacy white, cold square.
"Oh I say, what have we here"
announced the scary spider
"Complete with flowers for me
she is a strange outsider".
"She's tiny and so frail
and now my heart is full of love.
The Lord has answered my prayer
This is what I have dreamed of.
A lady friend to share my lonely life
oh how I am trapped in a web of silence"
The fairy awoke with a look of sheer horror
"Oh I do not mean any offence".
"My long hairy legs are not so bad
they can offer you so very much
They move like the wind, are strong
yet they are sensitive to your touch"
I can spin you the best silk
and make you the finest gown
You will be the Queen of the forest
and I will make you the finest crown.
You can be my Queen and I will be your King
We will be together and never be apart
Do not be alarmed at my ugly exterior
underneath there beats a loving heart".
"I will worship you, pick the freshest of flowers
bring you sunshine on a very rainy day"
He turned round to admire his catch
She had gone and could hear "Please stay".
She had gone.

If a rabbit had its mind set
to play a game of cricket.
No doubt it would wear its whites
standing in front of the wicket.

Kicking the dust off my shoes
As I strolled towards my front door
Less for me to do I thought
As I had already cleaned my floor.
The front door needed painting
I had some spare paint in the shed
Nobody would miss my house
If I did the door in a nice bright red.
And the windows need replacing
The frames look shabby and worn
The paint on them seems to be peeling
They were on the house before I was born.
And while I am at it I’ll replace the mat
It has certainly seen much better days.
All these jobs don’t come for free you know
But Keeping on top definitely pays.
The letterbox keeps sticking too, I’ll see to that
The postman will be pleased with me
After all these jobs today I will be fast asleep
Oh I seem to have mislaid my key!

I have many chapters
in my book of life.
From when I was small
to becoming a wife.
I will start mid point
somewhere I usually start
to when I put myself through
college to study art.
It was a time of my life
when my two boys had grown
They were at college themselves
and their seed had been sown.
Mine had not been planted yet
as I was unsure what I could do.
having raised two handsome sons
but now had time to think it through.
One sunny day I sat with pencil in hand
ready to write a few notes,who knows
I spotted out of the corner of my eye
a beautiful red English rose.
I started to sketch it without thought
concentrating on its form - new to me
I thought I will sketch what is there
and not what I think I can see.
The result was quite impressive
I had shaded exactly where the sun wont shine
I had shadows, I had tones, I had a drawing
to be proud of, something that was mine.
When my family returned, it was put before them
I felt rather good, they said nice things
So I rang college and enrolled in classes
at life drawing tutorials and the rest it brings.
I did five years studying all hours of the day
Painting watercolours, sketching and planning
I had something else to live for in every way.
I surprised myself and got to University level
passed all my exams with flags held high
and the best thing about it was I had a talent
I did not even have to try.
It came natural to me, now looking back
I am pleased about everything I have done
I have had exhibitions, and now paint everyday
my seed has done very well for me in the sun.

I saw a million butterflies
Al dressed in grey
Further up there were
Millions of birds of prey.
They had gathered
To pay their respects
On behalf of all creatures
As one would expect.
The death of a ladybird
Her spots faded now
Her redness faded to pink
And  they wiped her brow.
Ants lined the route
To her burial place
Nobody would ever forget
The sadness on the magpie’s face.
He bowed his head as she went by
Surrounded by love and flowers
The ceremony expected to last
For many more hours.
The moths flew by in twos
Followed by the wasps and bees
Other birds had sad beaks
Depression had hit the trees.
Crickets stood silent for once
Their noisy knees under control
Other insects bowed in unison
as the cuckoo announced the patrol.
They laid her to rest, six spots and all
Among the roses all a rich deep red
They sauntered back home, hearts heavy
And did nothing but cry all night in bed.
That night I saw a million butterflies
Which in all is a bit extreme
What a crazy night that was
It is funny what you dream.

Today I have realised
One very big thing
That I had better start
loving myself and bring
back my confidence
my inner strength
Thank you for showing me
that I have a say
that I count
that this very day
is the first day of the rest of my life.

Clouds form stories in the sky
A child sees shapes we cannot see
The atmosphere tells a good tale
of dreams, hopes and fortunes.
The wind blows, another page turns
another chapter begins.
The sun is raring to go, it burns
another story is told.

If you are sitting comfortably I will tell you the story
of the magnificent, sparkling in its full glory.
And this is how the tale begins.
It was spectacular, with ribbons, bows and sequins.
It had ***** of gold glitter and magical charms
stars draped majestically from its arms.
Sparkly diamonds were all aglow
An array of colour straight from the rainbow.
Nobody has ever told it to dress down
and on its head it wears a golden crown
There are presents and gifts lying at its base
stuffed tightly in: there is no available space.
Boxes with ribbons in all different sizes
Hard work has done this to provide prizes.
It is that time of the year - yes it's the Christmas tree
and there it was - the tree.

How truth distorts
How lies appear
funny isn't it!

I go to sleep
My mind drifts
I count sheep
Weight shifts.
On one side then the other
Hours slip away
If it’s not one thing it’s another
Revealing another boring day.
There is a movie in my mind
The same actors, scenery, speech
It is on constant rewind
Normality out of reach.
Am I dreaming, am I awake?
This seems so very real.
Tell me please for goodness sake
This situation is not ideal.

There was once a man from Bury
Who liked the odd jug of Sherry
He drank it quick
which made him sick
But it never once made him merry.

Dont think of me today
the day that I was born.
Think of others, who have nothing
no blanket to keep them warm.
Think of those sleeping on pavements
dusty streets with no fresh water
just their skin to keep them intact.
Lying there with worries, nowhere to bathe
No forthcoming meal, and no hope.
It should not be like this.
Could each and every one of us stop this.
So today, is their day, the homeless.
I pray they find shelter,  food and warmth.
today is their day.

Sitting there with an upside down smile
Anyone would think you are sad.
I have been observing for a while
and you know it is not that bad.

Am I Really Dreaming?

I go to sleep
My mind drifts
I count sheep
Weight shifts.
On one side then the other
Hours slip away
If it’s not one thing it’s another
Revealing another boring day.
There is a movie in my mind
The same actors, scenery, speech
It is on constant rewind
Normality out of reach.
Am I dreaming, am I awake?
This seems so very real.
Tell me please for goodness sake
This situation is not ideal.

Shuffling along with wrinkles to match the leaves
Both the leaves and the feet were dry and crispy.
Veins, broken down a long time ago now, she knew
the blood wavy like the curls in her hair, thin and wispy.

Her breath was cold, she was icy, no jacket to keep her warm
Her mind had gone together with her dreams
Goodness where they have gone - she knew
she stopped taking her pills, lotions and her creams.

She lived in her own sweet little world, her safe world
just eating, drinking and sleeping when she could.
Whether it be last weeks crust of the bread, she knew
Most of her intake was either mouldy or covered in blood.

She coughed, her icy breath just about holding out in her
Her lungs filling and collapsing with the damp morning air.
She had no idea where she was going she wished she knew
Her family had washed their hands of her, she had no care.

In this day and age, this should be not so, there are many like her
The elderly, the forgotten elderly, they have seen so many things
Are wise and yet know so very little, but she knew
She knew one thing,  loneliness is killing her. It's the misery it brings.

The skin I live within
Does the day have to begin
with a jolt
I however bolt
for the coffee it is a sin.

The pair of them talked till the moon went blue
and the stars packed themselves away for the night
Their farewells were said to each other it is true
and what they had done they thought was right.

The frog and the toad were fed up with talk
their books were put under their slimy skin
the frog suggested he liked the toad after all
and the toad said he would never give in.

They had said the goodbyes as previously said
you all thought that it was me to leave
I would never leave my friends just like that
it is only myself I could deceive.

You all are such nice people on this site
it is like we are all sitting at one big wooden table
tapping out poems one after another
whether we tell stories, jokes or fables.

No I would only say goodbye to the last ship sailing
I would want to stay under our rainbow of words and rhyme.
we all have different lives to live each day, but we are the same
we all write, play, work, rest and have hills to climb.

My words here on paper are real
As real as my love for you.
We were sixteen, sweet sixteen
And forty years later, our love is still true.
Each time I see you my heart skips a beat
The blood rushes through my veins
Bringing sweet harmony, taking away pains.
You are my rock, my strength, the reason I live
You stand tall for me, always there for me.
I love you with such intensity it hurts, my sweet
Until the sun dies, the stars will no longer be
I will love you more than there are stars in our sky,
Love you more than there are grains of sand,
I will love you more than ever before
Until I can no longer hold you by the hand.