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Jackie Mead Aug 2021
Where do the birds go at night?

When the noise ceases and silence surrounds.

When there are no starlings or sparrows flying in the sky or to be seen upon the ground.

Where do the birds go at night?

When it is perfectly quiet where can all the birds be?

Are they asleep in bushes close to the ground or nestling high up in a tree?

Where do the birds go at night?

When darkness descends and evening arrives, where do all the birds hide?

Are the birds playing hide n seek, having a bit of fun, as they wait for the first glimpse of the morning sun?

Where do the birds go at night?

Do you ever wonder if they have a secret life?

By day they are happy, singing a cheerful tune. By night they are more reflective singing Clare De Lune.

Where do the birds go at night?

Is it a puzzle that keeps you awake?
Do you toss and turn, until the birds return at daybreak?

Where do the birds go at night?

When morning breaks and the birds begin to sing.
Every morning seems like the first day of spring.
Waiting for the first sight of birds gathered upon your fence.
Full of hope for the day to commence.
Inspired by a visit to the Lake District this week.
I hope you enjoy.
Jackie Mead May 2021
Reflections in the water
Of white fluffy clouds from above
A sprinkling of Summer
And sunnier days yet to come
  May 2021 Jackie Mead
Jason Drury
If I gave you my soul,
would you read each page?
Scribble notes of interest
and know me.
Would you take the time,
to help tape the seams?
Would you mend,
the fragility of my soul?
It tears and rips,
easily, emotionally.
Jackie Mead May 2021
I float, I twirl, I scream, I shout!
Please won’t someone let my spirit out!
Too many years I have been left behind.
It is not healthy for my mind.

I am pale of face.
And light as a wisp.
I have perfected the art of an air kiss.

I use smoke and mirrors to disguise my existence.
I can’t be held by your arms, there is no resistance.

I walk through walls and shout ‘BOO’
If I wanted I could walk right through you!

I rattle tins and shatter glass.
I make drums of candlesticks made of brass.

You can not exorcise me from your home.
I am destined to remain here, free to roam.

I float, I twirl, I scream, I shout!
Please won’t someone let my spirit out!
A bit of ghostly fun
Jackie Mead May 2021
To ride a bike
To run wild and free
To play hopscotch and marbles outdoors in the sun
To laugh and run
To eat Jamaica *** and Raisin chocolate on a Saturday night
To wait up late to watch a man walk on the moon
To hide behind the settee when Dr Who comes on the T.V
To climb trees
To watch cricket played in the park
To roller skate
To swing as high as the cross bar
To grow your hair as long as your knees
To try and get it to curl with rags in your hair, desperately
To have your family motorbike and sidecar towed home by a taxi
To run on the sand
To watch the Royal Marines marching band
To swim in the sea
To walk on the moors
To be free to explore

And some people don't and that's okay.  These experiences are unique to me.  Allowed by my parents to play wild and free.  Free of the shackles, growing up with epilepsy.
Just remembering.
Jackie Mead Apr 2021
A woman full of love comes home.
On the large dining room table, she places her bag, a book and her house keys.
She adds the warmth of the sun, the sound of the sea, the wind whistling through the trees and the voice of her dad saying “Hi, it’s smee!”
She takes off her shoe and empties sand and seaweed, stubbed toes, marmite sandwiches and a surf board.
From her jacket pockets she adds a child’s dummy, a pocket hanky a Frog and Toad.
On the table she places a wine glass, very gently and a bottle of fine red.  A pizza of Jamaican **** chicken to keep her well-fed.
The table is large and there is room for more. She scoops a child’s drum from the floor and places it on top too.
The scrapping sound of a child’s chair.  Also gets placed on top with such love and care.
Looking around for more items to include she adds memories of her family young and old.  Stories which have yet to be written or indeed told.
An image of a young girl playing roly poly down the hill.  A Queens Jubilee commemorative five-pound bill.
The table bears the weight well, it stands tall and upright. The woman she will sleep well tonight.
Thank you, table, for always being there. For the load you carry, your unwavering support. Throughout the years you have witnessed much joy and tears.
Jackie Mead Mar 2021
Sunny days
You came again!
You are a balm to our soul.
In an otherwise world of grey,
You bring colour.
In a world of coldness,
You bring warmth.
In a world of silence,
You bring sounds.
In a world of loneliness,
You bring togetherness.
In a world of uncertainty,
You bring peacefulness.
  
When the pandemic is at bay.
You will bring beauty to another day.
Thank you for staying around!
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