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.

“ To have and to hold
From this day forward
For better for worse”
These words are in his mind
Twenty four hours of the day.
Regretting the name he signed
A mistake forever he will pay.
To have and to hold
Well what kind of saying is that
The marriage has gone icy cold
Like it’s frozen in an ice cream vat.
For better and for worse
The mind boggles at that one
It is like it is some form of curse
Getting better when she’s won.
She stands there hand on hips
With a menacing look about her
And I’m scared what’ll come out of her lips
And whether she’ll take it further.
She’s taken up some martial art pursuits
Now I have to be very careful what I say
Because she has me shaking in my boots
So I remember that I have to obey.
From the very first sip of the champagne
That was the moment I first recall
I thought at the time of the old ball and chain
I could imagine me attached to a wall.
She had me hooked good and proper
The dreaded moment when on went the ring
That was when my life was for the chopper
And all the misery it would bring.
Nag, nag ,nag all of the flipping day
Do this, do that, don’t forget, don’t forget
I used to think “is that all you can say”
I am sure you wouldn’t have married an idiot.
But apparently I did it seems, for my sins
So I think I will lay to rest this curse
And this is where my new life begins
It can be for any better or for any worse.

You have had a chance
I have laid it on the line
I am rather fed up of you
saying things are fine.
You sit there in the cage
surrounded by bars
You might just as well
be on the planet Mars.
You do nothing but chirp
and stare in the mirror all day
are you under the impression
love has come your way?
Because it is you you silly bird
your reflection, you're on your own
Or do you wish to take 50-50
or contact a bird by phone.
It is not rocket science
it is you you are staring at
you have a very little brain
and you cant really help that.
I get frustrated
just seeing you stare
kissing the mirror fondly
as if another bird's there.
I will put my shoes on I think
and head down to the shop.
buy this silly bird a mate
before it is me that will drop.
But I think it is too little, too late
my feather clad blue friend
For when I returned from the shops
the poor bird had met his end.

Six carrier bags, handbag and an umbrella as well
My pockets are full of receipts, it is like a living hell.
Tempers are boiling, my blood pressure’s sky high
Feet are throbbing and I am ready to cry,
My mind had gone blank and my clothes are a mess
What I look like is anyone’s guess.
My face is without make up and my hair need a comb
What I would really like to do is to go on home.
But I have to keep going, I have to shop
If I stand in one more queue I will drip.
My feet are now yelling that they hate me
And all that I need now is a good cup of tea.
My time is spent in the endless queue
And I am desperately searching for a gap to squeeze through.
I am talking to strangers with a diplomatic smile
All stood like robots in a single file.
Next year, I think I will save my precious time that I get
And do all my shopping on the world wide web,  the internet.

Her slight touch, her breath on my soul
Her whisper, my shame, her living, my goal.
Every little footstep she takes
She watches my silly mistakes.
She admires, protects and is fulfilling
She is kind, comforting and forgiving.
She is with me, I know that she is
She touched me, she waits for me
I was touched by an angel.

Tough times require tough measures
Gone are everyday unexpected pleasures.
Struggle, nothing but struggling to make ends meet
Keep the belly full and the landlord sweet.
Nothing in the pocket for nice things any more
Thank goodness they don't have to sleep on the floor.
Yet. That might be the case sooner than they think
Money wise, little hope, they are on the brink.
Unless they win some lottery, or unexpected prize.
Fat chance of that, nothing comes their way,no surprise.
But today the postman with a whistle left a card on the mat
He stumbled towards it with a frown, could be this or that.
He turned it over and it said scratch off the foil
Another junk mail, it made his blood begin to boil.
He threw it in the bin, but she fished it out and put it in a tin.
"It'll do for scrap when we need paper it is just waste"
But he reached into the tin and rubbed his head in haste.
His fingernail began to remove the foil bits one by one
The numbers he'd revealed matched and indicated he'd won.
His body spun, tears poured from his eyes, he couldn't speak
His hands had the shakes and now his knees had gone weak
"Look" he croacked,  "have I won".She snatched the slip
Her mind went crazy,world went black and water she did sip.
It appeared they had won one hundred thousand pounds
He kept saying it, slapping his own face with a hurt it sounds.
She had blacked out again, a crumpled mess on the floor
He had his best vest on and had shot out of the door.
To claim what was rightfully his, his much loved prize.
He'd returned his pockets bulging, he had big thighs
Grinning like a Cheshire Cat, singing a happy song
They had catapulted up the social ladder all day long
Drinking champagne, dining with a bag of fish and chips
They had hope, a song, and tomato sauce all round their lips.
Tough times had gone.

Trapped in a world
Of old gold
Lines on the faces of the old.
***** tattoos on creased arms
Scorched fields ploughed to death,
Clenched and clasped
Buckled and braced
On tight worn throats
On horses once raced
On green roads.
Now their heavy loads
Balance on thin legs
Where muscles once were.
Now trapped in pegs.

Tread Carefully
Tread carefully through the tulips
Rush through the bluebells.
The tulips are perfume free
And the bluebells have smells.
You’d get pollen on your fingers
And powder on your toes
If you dawdled through the daffodils
And sat beneath the rose.
Sitting for more than an hour
Under the lilac tree.
Finally you would disappear
I know believe me.
Wandering past the lanes
On a dark Autumn night
If you get caught by a blackthorn bush
It would put up a fight.
Wandering through a strawberry field.
Being here would be a dream
Don’t forget your spoon and dish
And *** of rich double cream.

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

I just cannot win
the cream is too thin.
I bought whipping not double
and that seems to be the trouble
It is not what it says on the tin.

The cherry I placed on the top
of he trifle just will not stop.
It has took a deep plunge
to the bottom of the sponge
What next will decide to drop.

I really have to confess
the dessert looks a mess.
But hey what  treat
it is good enough to eat
That is all that matters I guess.

It is in the lazy, hazy days of late summer
In the heat, a daisy parts company
My body perspires and sends a shimmer
Of sparkling salt down my spine and skin
A rose stands straight like cadet, red
Like his beret, standing as proud as he.
A tropical butterfly dances within
The petals of the rose, tickling the row.
The wind whispers its petals
So secretly, so delicately, to and fro.
The butterfly wears a brave face
Watching the daisy and the rose
With wings just like Nottingham lace.
In the heat, my body embraces its wings
And it kisses my hand, knowing its place
In the lazy, hazy days of the summer.

Holding a new born baby
Close in your warm strong arms
Baby food dripping down your shoulder
And the constant ringing of sleep alarms.
A joy to behold.
Walking the dog in the dead of night
It alerted you at two in the morning.
Waiting at bedroom door with lead
No fuss just a wet sloppy warning.
A joy to behold.
You just sit down with an evening meal
After a hard day’s work – the ‘phone rings
A sales talk on something you do not want
Slam the receiver down, and then say nice things.
A joy to behold.
Stuck in traffic when you are in a rush
All you want to do is get there and back.
You know something is going to happen
The chap behind you didn’t see you – whack!!!
A joy to behold.
You fetch your loved one from the supermarket
With a thousand bags for you to carry.
She has spent all your wages in a flash
And you wonder about the girl you did marry.
A joy to behold.
Watching your garden turn to weeds
After a heavy fall of the never ending rain.
Pulling them out with roots the size of parsnips
Your back aching, pulled a muscle once again.
A joy to behold. True a joy to behold.

Love comes in many forms
just from those three little words
then it spreads and performs
like a row of sweet whistling birds.

Whistling to the same sweet tune
a melody that is from the heart
to say that very, very soon
you will never be apart.

The birds, they know that love survives
even the toughest, mightiest test
and that these feelings thrive
on nothing but the very best.

So, with this in mind, give it a try
and just like the whistling dove
you will be pleased and the reason why?
It is that you have found true love.

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

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"

Met for the first time with your baby
The love you have in your heart flows
No not flows, rushes to every nerve
and the bond you have just grows
That is unconditional love.

Met for the first time with your soul mate
The person with whom you moan, laugh, sing and grow old
No not grow old, mature with to the end of your days
To love always, and to have and to hold.
That is unconditional love.

Terrible.
Utterly terrible.
The cake would say.
The trouble I’ve had in the oven today.
Blasting heat, smashing my tin
Which the goo is sitting in.
Tapping to see if I have got
A soggy bottom. If you please.
If I had, I certainly would not
Broadcast it.  Keep it clean.
Scraping the bowl,  oh I would love to do that.
Fingers sliding over the goo ooooh.
Magic box of tricks
That cake mix.
No one has touched me
Not been anywhere near me.
Not even a try
I wonder why.

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.

As the song says you are unforgettable
In every way.
Your perfume, your smile,
Your pickle stabber.
Your only tooth
Unforgettable.
I'd run a mile
To tell the truth
Regrettable.
But there you are.

The radio is on, you drink tea and hear the news
another sip of your tea then you hear your song
the breakfast comes to an end but the song does not
it is uplifting and you sing along to it all day long.

You hear news that somewhat saddens your heart
something close to your heart has been reduced
That song comes on again and it is uplifting
Just when you needed it, a well deserved boost.

Drape a bed of rose petals at her feet
For the fragrance of the petal is divine
The perfume of the rose fills the air
and you can say "she's mine, all mine."

Trace the outline of her name on her back
sending shivers down her spine
Whisper sweet nothings in her ear
and you can say "she's mine, all mine."

Sing a ballad of romantic nonsense to her
Give it all that you have got for most of the time.
Flake out on the sofa and she'll come running
and you can say "she's mine, all mine.

Lace and old scraps of paper
buried deep in my heart
Lined my pockets once I see
but they tore apart.
They dwell on my mind
wafting through my being
Distorting images, blanking out
from what I ought to be seeing.

Sitting around
waiting for the big moment
endless hours skim around
the bare face clock
The clock wont lie
It has one face not two
Unlike the town hall clock
that must tell some stories.
Waiting around
not in a busy crowd
but in rows, on lonely chairs
looking to one's left
then to the right.
Then back to the floor
Waiting in rows
nowhere to go
just through the cold door
Seem to be waiting forever more.
Waiting for Christmas so it seems
it will be here quicker than you know
papers will be torn,
on the day A Baby was born
Waiting for the New Year
Bells ring out, lights adorn the sky
another year goes flying by
A new year will ring
and what will it bring
happiness, or yes I hope so
I will wait gladly for that one.

Looking out at the white, frosty snow
covering branches, twigs and everything
Like a cold blanket, warming the soil
little shoots just waiting for Spring.
Blushing blossom just patiently hibernating
Getting ready to air those frilly frocks
Shaking out their creases to the wind
Ticking off the days to go on imaginary clocks.
The worms slithering underground in icy times
just waiting to get to the surface on a warm day
tapping their tails, hurrying time along
waiting for spring in an impatient way.
Birds with crinkled beaks pecking for berries
hoping for something easier to catch their sight
Just waiting, the Robin, just liking the frost
but then he sees the hungry birds in mid flight.
The creatures, the flora and little me waiting
for the blue of the bells, the white of the shade
waiting for primroses, the blossom on twigs
and of course waiting for the Easter Parade.

A fairy brushed past me
Her wings like a delicate veil
Leaving a perfume that is everlasting
leaving happiness but no trail
I had my head in the clouds
in a misty peculiar sort of way.
Thinking and putting thoughts together
to keep me happy for the rest of the day.
My head, full of these thoughts
fifty thousand miles high I imagine
aboard my pretend private jet
of which I am the supreme captain.
I travel in all directions at the drop of a hat
all I have to do is close my eyes
climb aboard and I am away where ever I like
It is my world, my dream and my surprise.
The experience can last for hours if I so desire
or just a couple of minutes if I am pushed for time.
They are my clouds I head for, my bit of sky
and it s all over when the kitchen clock begins to chime.
So I walk in the clouds most every day.
Join me if you would like, no air fare, no tax, no ticket
Just takes however long you have got, for days if you wish
or you can travel to your world in just one minute.

I sat on the park bench
with a cheese sandwich
and a flask of milky tea.
Watching the ducks and the geese.
There was an icy mist
gathering across the lake.
Cool waters drifted towards the bank
and frozen cobwebs danced in the breeze.
I observed closely the emerald green ducks
They had purple scarves around their necks
and had a smile on their golden beaks.
They were slipping and sliding, skating on ice
Their pond had turned to solid ice,
They were worth watching just for the fun
The sun had not put in an appearance yet.
The ducks seemed unable to get their feet
to walk, they slid, like a kid on a slide.
But it was the expression portrayed on their beaks
that did it for me. They crinkled. They had wrinkled smiles.
They realised they were having fun.  That was nice.
My cheese sandwich froze, along with the tea.
But my breath was hot, I smiled a lot, which
in itself was more than enough for me.

They were sipping lemonade
through a striped straw
A woman with a huge smile
was buffing the polished floor
There were a couple of guys
as we walked through yesterday
they noticed me in an instant
as I looked at their display.
They asked me if I was alright
They were extremely kind
They were also very polite
knowledgeable and refind.
The arcade was busy
together with the excitement it brings
I glanced at those men
and I noticed they had wings
They were angels
send by God for sure
They were helping those suffering
and  those that were poor.
They were definitely angels
angels that touched my soul.

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.

Tiny bubbles appear
Surfacing as if on time
The Kingfisher waits
more bubbles climb
to the edge of fear
then air saturates
there is a splash
a beak pierces bubbles
and it golden capture
surfaces not through wanting
or needing - it cannot escape
the beady eye of the Kingfisher.
He was hungry, cannot blame him
he waited and he watched.
A fisherman smiles, he waits and he watches
for hours upon end, without any promise.
The Kingfisher still perches and he waits
and with his belly full of food, he half smiles.

Water gushes, Mother Nature at her worst
Causing crevices to split and the banks to burst.
Sand bags pile high forming temporary barricades.
Putting pressure on them as the water cascades.
A sparkling foam pushes to the liquid surface
Rendering absolutely no breathing space.
Fish confused, dazed and bemused
Battered and slightly bruised.
Swim furiously against the strength of the swell
Questioning their one and only brain cell.
But answers don’t come that easily somehow
A split second decision should be on the cards now.
Mother Nature has pulled out the joker card
And is pitching for the mighty ace of spades.
Cruel and twisted as ever as the water cascades.

Link your fingers and curl the bones
to your soul around those not known
Link your dreams that you have
and show the love that has grown.

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.

WE ARE OFF TO THE MOON
Have you booked your holidays yet?
Because we are off to the moon.
Mum found a very good deal at the shop
And we blast off Tuesday afternoon.
Dad’ll be shocked when we tell him
I wonder just what he’ll say/
We have some organising to do
And Mum will have to go and pay.
Dad’ll freak when he knows the cost
He will have one massive fit.
Mum said she will tell him gently
So perhaps he will come round a bit.
When he found out he went a bit mad
Shouting that we all cannot go there.
Searching in his wardrobe
Explaining that he had nothing to wear.
Mum said it was too late, it had been paid
We are all going to the moon
Nothing can be done about it now
And we blast off Tuesday afternoon.

WE ARE OFF TO THE MOON
Have you booked your holidays yet?
Because we are off to the moon.
Mum found a very good deal at the shop
And we blast off Tuesday afternoon.
Dad’ll be shocked when we tell him
I wonder just what he’ll say?
We have some organising to do
And Mum will have to go and pay.
Dad’ll freak when he knows the cost
He will have one massive fit.
Mum said she will tell him gently
So perhaps he will come round a bit.
When he found out he went a bit mad
Shouting that we all cannot go there.
Searching in his wardrobe
Explaining that he had nothing to wear.
Mum said it was too late, it had been paid
We are all going to the moon
Nothing can be done about it now
And we blast off Tuesday afternoon.

There lying amongst the sea of red
a single poppy detached, lone
it lies where others bled
fallen, never to return home.
We remember the brave
the fallen heroes, their strength
and courage which they gave
and they went to some length.
We shall never forget, we shall never forget
that single fallen flower bows to their grave
we shall always remember them
and the courage which they gave.

I had just arrived by the midnight train
and to my horror it had started to rain
I was beginning to get rather wet through
waiting patiently in the endless queue
which was positioned under a leaking drain.

A  father is support for his family
The strength to carry on.
The power in a backbone
And most of all he is fun.
There is always a smile from a dad
when things go wrong and they do.
But in a dad there lies a strength
and other good things too.
You can confide in a dad
He will listen and will not judge.
He will protect, shield from harm
and he will never hold a grudge.
He will be proud and walk down the aisle
with his little Princess holding his arm.
His heart is always full of love
and he is always relaxed and calm.
His sons are the apple of his eye
His name carried forward once more
Dads are programmed with a special dance
a Dads dance that they do on the dance floor.
All these things, in their own little shed
Their house is their castle, what more can I say
But to my own father, my lovely dad, my friend
I wish you and all dads around the world
A happy Father's Day.

A friend is someone who you can trust
From rough to smooth, thick and thin
Someone who you can share secrets with
but to know they're kept to oneself within.

Loyalty and just being there for one another
when times hit an all time low.
A hand to hold outstretched on a screen
showing me the right path to go.

Above all our friendship is forever
forever and a golden day.
But you know this, my dear Sally Bayan
and now I can almost hear what you're about to say!

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.

Wading through rotten wood gathered throughout the year
Lies a little baby hedgehog and in its eye there’s a tear.
In hedgehog talk he pleaded for help and, missing his mum
He was set free to walk back cold and lonesome.
He arrived home and his mum had missed her only son.
She cuddled him while he told her what he had done.
She realised her son could have been burned alive at night
He was under a pile of wood which could have set alight.
She looked at him with all the love in the world and more
But her precious little one was fast asleep on the floor.

Once upon a time
"When was that then?"
For the purpose of this rhyme
it was perhaps ten past ten.
Look at the silly time
see how the hands ****
is that a perfect crime?
Perfect for a quiz!
Who is wrong?
Who is right?
Are they strong?
Are they bright?
This "time" that's under question
Who has the final say?
Is it too soon to mention?
Have I got the right day?
Now the stars have appeared
and the moon likes it
Why has it disappeared
has it quit?
It is all mumbo jumbo
now is that a crime?
It happened long ago
When it was time!

When I think of the colour pink I dream
Dream of sugar spinning to loud music at the fair.
Pink dresses with tiny pink socks on babies
with vivid blue eyes and golden blond hair.
WhenI think of blue I think of sand, pebbles and castles
made from dry, hot sand with a blue sky draping overhead.
The blue in our flag, standing proud over the palace
The stitching on my blanket around my bed.
When I think of yellow,oh I dream of lands far away
tropical beetles, butterflies and giant leaves.
Shores made from ice cream and cherries,
stuff that actually nobody believes.
When I see lilac and lavender it reminds me of peacocks
parading their anger with  beauty for all to admire.
Ribbons at Christmas draping the fireplace
and waving to the heat and glow of the open fire.
What do you see?

He rolls home at an unearthly hour
covered in a new shade of lipstick
Perfume and a note stuck to his pocket.
She waits, patiently, till she spots him
singing at the top of his voice.But no more.
Panic grips his throat, silences his joy.
A tired hand whizzes across his cheeks
a red reminder that satisfies her anger
Questions, upon questions are fired
like a bullet from a gun.
She wants answers, no more patience.
What is done is done.
She drags his weary sack of bones he's tired
She wants revenge.
He wants to sleep.
She wants to weep.
He's out like a lark.
When loves turns dark.

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.

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".