More Stories
I didn't feel quite right.
Thought I'd let my doctor check me,
'Cause I didn't feel quite right.............
All those aches and pains annoyed me
And I couldn't sleep all night.
He could find no real disorder
But he wouldn't let it rest.
What with Medicare and Blue Cross
We could do a couple of tests.
To the hospital he sent me,
Though I didn't feel that bad.
He arranged for them to give me
Every test that could be had.
I was flouroscoped and cystoscope,
My aging frame displayed
Lying on an ice cold table
While my gizzards were x-rayed.
"Radio Times" by Patrick Clements
This is the tale of cousin Nelly
Who gave up looking at the telly
She tired of watching wild romancing
And minor celebs learning dancing
And seeing wide boys being sick
When thrown out of the old Queen Vic
She sometimes wished a wayward lorry
Would decimate the cast of Corrie.
So, to escape this visual woe,
She listened to the radio
The Poppy Fields Of Passchendaele
War does not determine
Who is absolutely right
Or speaks for the minority
That miracles have saved,
But courage is remembered
When its heroes are dismembered,
And bravery will be engraved
In stone for all eternity
To recognize its bloody fight
In trenches rife with vermin-
But the Poppy Fields of Passchendaele
With its Men of Glory will prevail.
There should be no powers
Who are justified to crack
The fragile Peace we instigate
To safeguard humankind,
But Spirits who ascended
Into Heaven were commended,
And in the darkness of the mind
So many lives would contemplate
Upon their journey back
To Peacetime’s Sacred Hours-
But the Poppy Seeds of Passcendaele
Will endure and flower without fail.
Bewildered Child
What was I thinking, that day in ‘39?
Rushing to board the train on time.
Three years of age, joining 300 more,
All of us escaping the bombing of war.
Feeling lonely in a crowded train?
A seaside trip - not returning again?
Where’s Daddy? I wish he was here,
I have no Mummy to wipe my tear.
Bachelor of Despair. (On Growing Old Gracefully)
Yes, I am the first one to admit,
I’m not tall, dark, or handsome,
Nor am I a millionaire playboy,
In the very first flush of my youth.
I’ve served my time, a graduate
From school of hard knocks,
The university of life,
Where wisdom, experience is all.
They say there is someone for me,
A living, loving soul mate waiting,
To be found, and ease life’s journey,
But where, where are they today?
Am I really so unlovely, unlovable,
The whole world must take flight,
Before word is spoken, or even
My face is seen, or presence felt?
Spring
When spirits dip in winters grip
Of darkness cold and rain,
The solstice turns pervading gloom
To thoughts of spring again.
"Lessons will be learnt"
"Lessons will be learnt,"
Said the Social Service
Chief looking suitably contrite.
As another tiny coffin
Is lowered out of sight.
On the Rack
In the dark shed
a rail full of trophies,
little teal I think.
Crude red twine twisted
twice round feathered necks.
'An English Autumn (A to Z)'
Apples tumble temptingly, approaching harvest time,
Balmy autumn breezes break late summer’s humid clime,
Coasting currents of warm thermals, a bird of prey may tarry
Downward swooping, swiftly scooping up his tasty quarry.
''Til Only a Vacant Smile Remains'
How would you face tomorrow,
If today, you could not choose
Your resting place, nor linger in the
Garden, to watch the sun go down?
How would it be if you could not see
The shimmering of a summer shower,
Nor feel the wind dance in your hair,
or face its power?
The Dance
Hi David,
Thought you might like to include this poem in your paper, my wife and I really enjoy reading the various articles on line and often find things we knew nothing about with regard to becoming Mature citizens although we do not always accept that we are are mature it is quite difficult to get our heads around sometimes.
Hope you enjoy the poem keep up the good work, wishing all at mature times a happy and peaceful summer
Iaian W. Wade
THE DANCE
Man dances to the rhythm
Of the music in his soul
And revels in the spotlight
When the drums begin to roll,
But many men are crippled
By the pressures of their goal.
Man dances for a lifetime
On the world’s revolving stage
Until the show is over
And his passion turns to rage,
But many men will never
Lose the tempo of the age.
Man dances for his maker
Who will hear him testify
To dancing through life’s story
With a perfect alibi,
But many men will falter
In their steps before they die.
Iaian W. Wade
'A Friend Like You'
I know that without friends,
the world can seem a dark and lonely place.
It means so much to reach out and feel someone is there,
when you need a helping hand, or someone to care
that your day is all out of kilter,
the car won’t start, the freezer’s broken,
or simply that you can do nothing with your hair.
... Friends can help you through.
Sometimes it’s not the big things that bring you down,
when lots of little things go wrong,
they seem to hang together in a voluminous cloud,
that envelopes your mind and you begin to live in the fog
of uncertainty. It’s at times like these when you have
to cry out, “help me!”.
A friend can be as a lighthouse is to a stricken ship,
... a beacon.
The Olive Tree
Six weeks ago I should have died
And didn't
My feet swelled up
This arm was thicker than that leg
I should've died but didn't
'Poem for Nell'
You were such a friend to me.
You were my shadow.
When the time came to day goodbye,
I had to let you go.
You lay in your bed.
Tired, but no fears.
I kissed you gently.
You licked away my tears.
You then lay still
and heaved some sighs.
I stroked your head
and you slowly closed your eyes.
Now your pain is gone
and you whimper no more.
You've gone to doggy heaven,
through Gods doggy door.
No more will I feel
