Thunder and lightning, dark clouds all around.
Sound of heavy rain dancing on the ground.
Standing next to mother, door is open wide,
In case of lightning strike, it will have nowhere to hide.
Straight down the chimney, across the kitchen floor,
Along the hall like a flash out of the front door.
A little superstition often she would quote,
Maybe it was read  or something she had wrote.
But the thought of lightning leaving, in such a rush.
Brought a sense of calm to us, kind of a hush.
It cheered us up immensely, our fears would all melt.
Like the note on the mirror, this is what it spelt.
KEEP SMILING.

Redundancy struck like a knife to my soul,
No more work from that deep dark hole.
It’s the end of my life the dinosaur died,
I’d either break down but sourly we cried.
No future for me or my friends and mates,
They’re  all lost, finished at the pit gates.
Weeks pass by it only gets worse,
We begin to wonder is it a curse?
Changing direction is the only option,
Putting myself up for adoption.
Please employ me the look in our eyes,
Pure disappointment no one can disguise.
Moving on slowly we drifted apart,
Finding employment making a new start.
Not as painful an experience expected by me,
Changing direction in my life had to be.

Progress ?

They are cleaning out the north dock,
To build a marina bright and flash,
Making a playground for the rich,
A place to spend their cash.
No more little cobles, bobbing up and down.
Unloading fish and *****, to sell here in the town.
There is nothing wrong with progress,
Or yachts bright and sleek.
But give me nets and crab pots any day of the week.
Maybe if the yachtsmen could see the way it used to be,
They would swap their yachts for cobles,
and become fishermen by the sea.

Enjoy Today

If I could see what’s on my mind,
all the things we have  left behind.
Time has passed years move on,
The cost is great for everyone.
But would I have chosen a different path,
when you can't be  sure of the aftermath.
Many thing things that bring us pleasure,
But doubt and sadness also measure.
Some decisions we may not have made,
Effect of which cannot be displayed.
  Who knows what tomorrow holds,
Looking for happiness or our goals.
Sunshine, storms or pouring rain,
We all must weather to make a gain.
But No matter what comes my way,
I am here now enjoying today.

China Cat

Standing on the mantel piece a black china cat,
Reminds me of sitting on nanas clippie mat.
She would tell us storeys of holidays by the sea,
Memories of the past the way it used to be.
Its funny how important little ornaments  are to us,
Sparking different  pictures of  family omnibus.
We hand them down with love and care,
From grammar  to mother   for all to share.
Little trinkets collected as we grow old,
Cherished as if they were actually made of gold.
But even if they break or get lost along the way,
We will still have our memories of the happy day.

A pigeon loft on the protected building list!
We should add a Fishermans hut they will all be missed.
They are built around the docks hung with nets and pots,
That are repaired and stacked for the next tidal slot.
The smell of fresh fish and tarred rope in the air,
Lots to sell and some spire.
Boats are moved and huts come down,
Progress changes Seaham town.
Replaced by cafés and sailing boats,
No more lobster pots with coloured floats.
Improvements are made so we can move on,
What can we save before it’s all gone?

Winkles.
I remember these shapes that rise above the sand,
Covered daily by the tide as it reaches for the land.
Those little crustaceans that grow around the rocks,
Like a five o’clock shadow along the beach to the docks.
No need for a hook a *** or a net,
Just pluck them by hand as they cling to the wet.
Popped in a bag and taken home to mam,
Boiled in a pan that was used to make jam.
Armed with a pin winked out of the shell,
Better tasting than the shops sell.
They were free, they were ours and they grew on our beach,
All at a height most children could reach.
No adults to call us in for tea,
Just sunny days down by the sea.
As I walk along the sand, I don’t see them anymore.
Those funny little things what were they called?
You know their name, I know you do.
If I see one I will remember to.