A n attempt to bamboozle him.

D irecting  the abomination
I nto my inner soul.
S corn, in the flame of passion,
A ffection going nowhere.
G iving way to struggle, looking for a
R eason to cherish
E very yearning.
E nding this bitter taste,
M aking this relationship
E stranged.
N ever will it bloom
T o a tender love.

© Hazel

Candles, chocolates and a bottle of Chardonnay
Heralding the eve of Christmas day
Rollicking good fun is in the air
Icy outside but who gives a care
Surprises all gaily wrapped
To a song that someone just rapped
Mistletoe hangs in the hall
And the clock ticks slowly on the wall
Santa from Lapland is coming to call.

©Hazel

I saw an ad in the local paper
A reunion for the class of 54
I decided I would attend
I’ve never been to one before

It should be grand and lots of fun
So I rented a tux and black tie
Put new batteries in me hearing aid
Bought a wig and polished me eye

I emptied a bottle of old spice
Did me toupee nice with brylcream
I soaked me teeth in steredent
Then gargled with some Listerine

I soon arrived in splendid form
Smelling my very best
It was held in a hall at an old folks home
A place called the shady rest

It’s the fortieth year and it’s very clear
Every one  is  out to impress
Even the Janes that was always plain
Wore their most elegant dress

They came round with name tags
But  didn’t  have one for me
Then suddenly I remembered
I was in the class of 53.

©Hazel

Miserable grey, damp, wet Days
Days shorter and winters Long
Long bleak dark Evenings
Evenings as black as pitch.

Bright frosty cold Mornings
Mornings glistening in the Sun
Sun shines cold as the Day
Day soon will become night.

Snow crisp and White
White flurries fall from the Sky
Sky as white as the Day
Day fades into a crisp evening.

Days engulfed with Floods
Floods devastating your Home
Home unfit to live In
In shelter we seek comfort.

© Hazel

The moon was lost behind a cloud
When something weird went by
I tried to see what it was
But it flew so fast and high.

I don'tbelieve in witches
But that is what I saw
Sailing high in the sky
On broomsticks made of straw.

The stars were gone the night was dark
When something else took place
I couldn't quite believe it
There was a gruesome face.

A skeleton with corpse like face
I viewed it in awe
I don't believe in zombies
But that is what I saw.

The howls and cries
Under the moons eerie light
A master of changing shape
With one infectious bite.

I don't believe in werewolves
But that is what I saw
Walking down the street
With blood stained jaw.

Another creature of the night
With fangs dripping red
A piercing bite upon your neck
Then you are bled.

I don't believe in vampires
But that is what I saw
Lurking near the graveyard
When the moon was low.

All too soon the mellow moon
Lights an empty late night street
Children dreaming, planning, scheming
For next years trick or treat..

© Hazel

Inflow of confetti, brings happiness and fun
Newly wed romance in the November sun
From the valley of dreams, mid the hills and dales
Azure the sky and green the vales
Tantalizing melodies in the afternoon air
Unaware of love lingering everywhere
Against the backdrop of a cloudless sky
The snow capped mountain stands so high
Infatuation or love? A beautiful sight
Oblivious of day turning into night
Nostalgia enters, and music plays in the moonlight.


© Hazel

Autumns rich mellow flavoured air
Unmasked, the trees  are now bare.

Seldom do we hear the birds sing
When the Autumn leaves are falling.

Smoke trails from the burning leaves
Carried on the light cool breeze.

The scent of spiced apple days
In the suns golden haze.

The pine towering heavenly high
Dropping fragrances on passers by.

Smell the crisp refreshing air
Wind is blowing everywhere.

The leaves they scatter without sound
Gently cascading to the ground..

©  Hazel

Memories made over the years
Brings myself to shed some tears.

As future on the past will knock
We can't go turning back the clock.

Replaying the memories in my mind
Of the heartache that I left behind.

Clues to what the future will hold
As the passage of time does unfold.

My entire search is in vain
That it will never come again.

Is what makes life so sweet
A memory caught in a single heartbeat.

© Hazel

Not in love? he asked
Over and over again
There was a silence.

Indignant towards her
Not in love? he asked again.

Leaning towards her
Over the dinner table
Vacant look on her face
Evident that she meant every word.

©  Hazel

On remembrance day we honour all
Each gave their best enduring call
God bless each one for being there
All our service men did their share.

Soldiers young and soldiers old
Fought the war brave and bold
They fought in Air, Land and Sea
If not for them where would we be.

Some lived while others died
As they fought side by side
They fought many a day and night
Their mission sure their spirits bright.

The loved ones bore the greatest pain
So many thoughts will never wane
We're proud of all the forces who
Fought for the Red, White and Blue.

We'll never let their special day
Their time of honour slip away
Though we may not know each name
We thank all the forces just the same.

'Wrote for November 11 th'

©  Hazel

Rose Maloney sits in her chair
The room is dim
The floor is bare
And life for her is very grim.

Rose takes in sewing
It helps to pay the bills
Though it pays almost nothing
For her meagre skills.

Her children are playing in the yard
Not knowing their fate
Times for Rose are very hard
And the rent man won't wait.

Rose lost her husband, he drowned at sea
And she wishes he'd walk through the door
Tommy the youngest he's only three
There's Lizzie at six, and Billy at four.

A bowl of soup, a crust of bread
Their little faces washed clean
Then up the stairs off to bed
None of them too keen.

The rent man's waiting for his money
As Rose sells her husbands clothes
She knows life won't be milk and honey
So Rose Maloney sits and sews and sews..

© Hazel

The net's a big headache
I need a bloke you see
I search and search for hours
But can't get one for free.

I bought myself a web cam
I thought I could chat and play
But there wern't any blokie blokes
Only the ones that were gay.

Hang on! Who's this?
It's a blokie figure
He looks like me grandad
But me grandad's thinner.

Says his name is Bertie
Asks if I'm into leather
Then said I was a bore
We wouldn't be good together.

Oh wait! I must be dreaming
I see a tanned Blokee
I smile at his picture
He smiles back at me.

He speaks , I can't hear him
He hears, but can't see
I think my PCs broken
Why does it happen to me?

I think I'm in love
I hope he feels the same
Oh ****! my PCs crashed
And I never got his name.


© Hazel

I've won a day at the races
For me and my friend Doreen Maguire
Posh frocks and new hats
That's what we require.

So off we go shopping
Hair and nails done on the way
Well we girls want to lookj our best
For the big race day.

Now Doreen's buxom and curvy
Me I'm thin as a latt
Or you could say slim and slender
And Doreen's just fat.

We went in loads of shops
Nothing seemed to fit the bill
Everything was kind of frumpish
And we're definitly not over the hill.


Then we came accross this shop
In a side street in the town
It's called Reds Closet Boutique
And we both came out with a gown.

We got fascinators to match
Shoes, accessories and bags too
Doreen got something in pink
I got something in blue.

It was the day of the races
We were up with the lark
Had our lunch at Tom and Jerry's
Then off to Haydock Park.

The horses are under starters orders
And I'd backed the grey
Well it came home last
But it was winning all the way.

Now we came to the last race
And we're digging deep in our pocket
Doreen said put it on this
It's called Super Rocket.

Well it romped hom at 50/1
This horse called Super Rocket
And me and Doreen Maguire
Went home with brass in our pocket.

© Hazel

Fair as the morning, bright as the day
Life changes, then passes away,
Bright as a sunbeam, pure as the dew,
We wake to see the beauty renew.

Over the river to the other side
Sun and moon shall still abide.
As the time passes over the sky,
Make good your farewell, make good your goodbye.

Only when you drink from the River of Silence
And the blue waves beat a steady cadence,
With other voices, Shall you indeed Sing,
When you reach your final resting.

© Hazel

Wrestling with his conscience
Abstaining from verbal exchange
Regretting his words

Offended by obscenities
Forgetting his ticket

What is happening?
Obnoxious little men
Rallying in no mans land
Dire consequences
Spasmodic verbal abuse..

©  Hazel