Here is one I like from my collection
Late Summer 'sonnet'.
On flares of fruitful breeze, they swoop and soar,
So time is told on wings of silent speed.
Like arrows true, they dart above the door
To catch with stealth, the food young fledglings need.
And dagger-like, the swift will cleave the air,
Sharp twists and turns will take your breath away.
The swallow soars aloft with stunning flair,
In awe and wonder, watch the great display.
Beyond the field, across the trees and back,
Through summer days, observe their daily show.
As one more bale is thrown upon the stack,
The birds will sing it's time for them to go.
So nature's clock will call them to take flight,
As evening shadows darken into night.
My second - a challenge from Titan - to write a poem about a half shuffled tango.
A Half Shuffle Sort of Tango
A haunting tune played softly, fingers danced across each string
He glanced across the crowded room and his heart began to sing.
She smiled at him so sweetly, each held the others stare
An aura wrapped around them, the dance began right there.
He stretched his arm to beckon and call her to his side,
Expecting her to cross the floor, to confidently glide.
He saw her look of panic, she could not leave the spot,
Her feet seemed glued together, face contorted, in a knot.
He too seemed to be rooted, and couldn’t move at all
He tried to step out quickly but knew that he would fall.
Shimmy shimmy shuffle that’s how their act began,
They fell into each others arms, part of some great plan.
They had to be together, to set their world alight
And to dance they were determined, to tango through the night.
A half shuffle sort of tango but no-one seemed to care,
Because a haunting tune played softly and love was in the air.
Loved this one by Titan Christmas time ,says it all really
When I was much younger,time was time
It never crossed my mind
That as the years ticked quickly by
Real joy escapes those blind
Children grow ,the thrill then gone
Santa's name it holds no wonder
No need to hide the presents now
It's the tree they now go under
No tiptoeing around the house
As gifts spring from magic hiding
As children now near adulthood
Chose money when deciding
The magic in that youngsters face
Is worth a Million pound
So search real deep and make a wish
Hope always can be found
Within every family in the world
New souls enter the fray
So small and sweet and innocent
Bright futures come what may
In those Grandchildren of your own
Blessed with your flesh and blood
Grandads spoil,that's how it is
Swap places if I could
To see the lit up face of joy
As santa's letter read
Christmas is a family time
Good thoughts running through the head
If children older none replaced
When sad instead of glad
Delight in children everywhere
Then good times will be had
Think of those children ill yet smile
Bleak future by a thread
Presents arrive at hospital
As they lie weak in bed
Think of those children wondering
If presents will be there
With parents who don,t give a damn
Leave none cos they don,t care.
I wish everyone would love their kids
Memories they mean a lot
Sometimes in self absorption
Can forget just what youv'e got
I hope this Christmas brings to all
Everything and end this post ---- by saying
Especially for you my Gaelic friend
That thing you wish the most
This is by Marcel my second choice It is from a while ago.
I notice your hands
For they do what mine can't
They Dance and they Caress
Pearl Black and white keys
You have yours Controlled
Mine Control me
I notice your hands
Powerful yet pretty
Fingers blur in full flight
Skipping through air
like butterflies on a summer night
I notice your hands
Subtle power refined
pearlescent beauty like the keys they command
Beautiful as Butterflies in Summer time flight
And it gives me immense Pleasure ,Fulfillment and delight
To hear the summer melody
And see fingers in full flight
seat and flick hair
Centre of attention
Born to be there
rise up from her fingers
Power and Passion
Insight to her soul
notes like pure water
help to clense worn out Soles
and skip them on journeys
crystal waters ,cool ice
refreshing and replenishing
JOY, over too quickly
those delightful moments of escape
And then Great redemption
From the applause more passports to escape
Another sample of this Heaven
more Journeys to take
Crystal pure fountain,endless clear lake
An invitation to slip into resplendant water
and re emerse in a cocoon
a beautiful world with out Fear
Thanks for your choices PB. I am working on the book now.
That dance we were talking about.
The"Half Shuffle Tango"
Its the usual convention
With the evening all planned
Medication all taken
Dressed up feeling grand
Have had a few drinks
Lubricated and moving
Flushed,trembling with nerves
Watch dancing and grooving
Take my hand feel it shake
Glide into the throng
See what moves we can make
Steps,like wearing Clowns shoes
Not joking you know
Co-ordinations a must
Feel the beat of Tango
Mind definitely willing
Partner is too
Both right side affected
Not much you can do
Legs get in the way
As steps go out of synch
Like Two Thunderbird puppets
On slippery ice rink
People nod their approval
Appreciate new dance
A slight variation
Stumbled on literally by chance
Feet scraping and tripping
Crescendo concludes we bow low
End by announcing with pride
Its our"Half Shuffle Tango".
The above, Tango by Titan is one of my choices. I will post my other choice, by bogman, in a minute.
Here is Bogman's poem.I have permission to publish from Marcel, Titan and Bogman.
Some days are all glitter and shine like fools gold
Other days are dull grey and sweep away your soul
One day you hate, genuflecting to it like a fool
The other raises you up, succumbing to your rule.
It takes a lot of wasted time, all of them are grey
Before you realise how precious, each and every day
Every day you wake, ignore the colour of the clouds
Rise to the morning and bathe in nature’s sounds.
Take pleasure in bird song and in a child’s laugh
Laughter is the wine of life so drink it by the carafe
Is someone puts you down, make them go away
They that manipulate, the games that people play.
This world is made up of those that can and can’t,
Life is not a rehearsal, there is no second chance
Choose to walk in sunshine and walk again in rain
Don’t waste what you have left, reach beyond the pain.
This life is not easy but it’s the only one you’ll get
In but a fleeting time they will lay you down to rest
It is our lot to be shakers, it could be so much worse
You could already be in a box and waiting for the hearse.
(I have permission to publish from Marcel, Titan and Bogman.)
There are other poems I want to choose seeing as I am the only one playing this game at the moment. So, bending the rules (that's what rules are for isn't it?)I am going to ask turnip, annebernadette, posh bird, lorna, lily, radz, BJS and pebble for permission to use their poems too.That is just for starters!
I have no illusions about the quality of my 'poetry' but would be happy for any of it to be used in any way you like. I would be fascinated to see what you choose if any.
Thank you for asking as it has come as a surprise really well a shock actually, as I am not in the league of all the poets on here. So Yes if you can find one that you like. Thank you xxxxxxxPB
Dear Lin, you have my (embarrassed) permission. I just hope that I do not look too foolish in such august company! You also have my grateful permission to correct the inevitable spelling mistakes
I was going to propose a poem or 2 by Pebble, but I cannot find the wretched things . I do not mean that they are wretched poems. Time to keep mpouth shut now AB!
Dear Radar 47
Please can I use this -(your poem from August) in the compilation book - I love it.
Do you have anymore of your own we might include? Have you read one by somebody else and want to nominate them?
Come in, but don't expect to find
All dishes done, all floors ashine.
Observe the crumbs and toys galore.
The smudgy prints upon the door.
The little ones we shelter here
Don't thrive in a spotless atmosphere.
They're more inclined to disarray
And carefree even messy play.
Their needs are great, their patience small.
All day I'm at their beck and call.
It's Grandma come! Grandma see!
Wiggly worms and red scratched knees.
Painted pictures, blocks piled high.
My floors unshined, the days go by.
Some future day they'll flee my nest,
And I at last will have a rest!
Now you tell me which matters more,
A happy child or a polished floor?
Can't resist this one by Bogman
A tale of sad Lothario
When he goes to visit her, he sits on a pretty chintz setee
She gets out the willow pattern and makes some China Tea.
They eat Gorgonzola cheese and the bread that she has baked
Then nibble Jammie Dodgers or a slice of fresh fruit cake
They climb beneath her sheets in the lazy afternoon
Not to get some sleep you know but to inflate a French baloon
Let’s see if we can make it last, let’s go for number three
And if you do, then ballyhoo the next one is yours for free.
That is his Monday, it’s been said he has a cheek
There are four other fine houses, he visits once a week
In one he gets his oats, in another they smoke some grass
That ageing sad Lothario, whose prowess is melting fast.
Four days he labours thus, the fifth is there for you
Resorting to little helpers, swallowing those pills of blue
He always keeps them hidden and does so with great care
Because if his wife should find them, she’d only want her share.
Going down for the third time but only coming up twice
He should listen to his muscle and take his own advice
Reading through the literature it says beware of OCD
That love and drugs and side effects are all a part of me
It’s time for you to quit, while you are still ahead
If Ashley Cole should catch you, you may as well be dead,
Your days they are numbered,it's time to hang up your gun
You know with trousers round your ankles, it’s impossible to run
August was a goldmine for these poems. Turnip - I couldn't resist this - I am laughing at your wit.
i wont say whether this is fact or fiction, but hopefully it is a bit amusing
sex and drugs and surface cleaner
i woke up in the health thats rude
my head awash with thoughts quite lewd
and so i quoth 'how bout it then?'
i have a way with words you ken
the missus gave a cunning grin
'if you are after wicked sin
the price for this particular wench
is a pristine kitchen bench
and a floor - its a disgrace -
upon which i can see my face
no trace of recent dinner, tea
then we can meet at half past three'
and so i set to with vigour and vim (tm)
making bright what once was dim
muscles ached and bones were sore
but it was an inspired chore
the kitchen shone like one on show
the plates as white as new laid snow
the floor reflected as if of glass
'and now for my reward my lass'
now details of what happened next
are not online or even text
but it was very nice for me
and afterward we had some tea
but post coitus root vegies are
all tristes like a trip to Spar
even with some xx action
they dont quite have full satisfaction
but making tea, all nice and neat
i felt a glow from my great feat
not that done while lying down
but the order all around
so if you want a glow thats lasts
at least until the next repast
dont try sex and drugs and sin
but clean like a mad puritan
And pebble's reply was brilliant - please can I use it Pebble?
I’ll take on board your advice Turnip to polish, sweep and dust
Next time I’m overcome Sir with longing, yes and lust
Perhaps my place might need a clean
In corners very rarely seen
Or maybe I should change the bed
And make it ready for my head
To rest in my best ‘come on’ pose
All clean and fresh from toes to nose
I’ll snuggle down all comfy, cosy
Await my love – you don’t suppose he’s
Watching football on TV
His thoughts on other goals, not me
Or is he slumped within his chair
Gently snoring, should I despair
Oh no not I, for Turnip says
That there are many other ways
To ‘get that glow’, then fall asleep
Perchance to dream but always keep
Those highs of simple cleaning pleasure
Surely memories to treasure
I’ll test the theory that’s been proposed by the man in rhyme above
I’ll let you know if playing house replaces making love
I like this one annebenadette but it is not the one I was looking for - I'm looking for one you wrote about growing up in Ireland. This one is fun...so can I use it please?
There is a game played in Eire
The rules could not be much fairer
You are supplied with a curved stick
The leather ball you're supposed to hit
The clash of the ash
Makes an almighty crash
Plastic is no good
It has to be of wood
If your opponent looks to attack
You turn around and give him a thwack!
I have to go now but next choice of mine will be posh bird.
I don't think the collection would be complete without this terrific little gem by Marcel. I would also ask thet the asterix's are removed and the swear words returned in all their glory!
KkKeyboards and cakkes
The left is fine
The riighht annooys mme
Mmy f**king hhannd ,,nnoot coonnntroolled
IIshhakke annd droopp thhiings II nneed hhoolld
Iimmppoossiibblle too shhave ooor clleann mmy teethh
oor tooo dooo buuttoonns oor bellt benneathh
Iis llikke exiistiinng iinn ann earthhquuakke
iit fruustrates mme "oohh foor f**uu**k sakke"
The oonnlly thiinng that is realllyy great
Iis thhat yoouu doonnt nneed a mmiixer
toooo mmakke cakke
Lin thank you for wanting one of my odes, you have certainly got my permission to use whichever you choose - a published poet at last!
Hope springs eternal,
I think that’s how it goes.
I don’t know what it means,
But maybe all hope flows…
Through our veins and arteries,
Right up to our brain,
One day we feel despondent,
Then the sun shines through the rain.
We’re all in this together,
We help others to pull through,
When I am unhappy,
Then I can talk to you.
You can take your problems
To anyone on here
They’ll help you if they can
To allay your fear.
Hope is in the doctors,
The scientists, the nurse
Hope is in your family
Your friends who hear you curse…
About your situation,
How bad it’s going to be,
But being optimistic…
That’s what holds the key.
Hope that looking forward
Will bring more good than bad,
Make you feel encouraged,
Stop you feeling sad.
Hope that in the morning
You feel better than last night,
Hope that very soon
We all will see the light.
A cure from our discomfort,
A cure to make us whole,
Hope for that and say your prayers
From the bottom of your soul.
Questions by Old Scarlet
You told me your news today.
Quietly, almost matter of fact.
For you to speak at all
Was, I know, difficult,
For when you spoke
The world changed.
Oh! Not a gigantic change
As when worlds collide
Nor yet the way a fresh leaf
Gently trembles in spring’s breeze,
But our world,
Our private world of you and me,
Can it – will it ever be the same?
Questions there are
That chase their tails around my head,
That I cannot answer alone.
We must have time to think,
And answer - each to each
A Pebble Philosophy.by Bogman
I picked up a pebble on the shore
And skipped it across the water
I watched it hit one, two, three ,four
Glide and jump and then no more
It left six ripples in its wake
One for each decade
What’s done is done they seemed to say
As if it were life’s lonely metaphor.
Stop that now, be sanguine
At least you had good years
Think of those beneath bed clothes
In the straight jacket of their fears.
Confine your thought to happy times
Ignore the lumps and bumps
Think of those who lent a hand
When you manned the pumps’
The great joy you took in giving
You get back in equal amounts
Be positive in your approach
It’s what you do that counts.
This is my philosophy
The way I run this race
We are but specks upon this earth
One day a cross will mark our place.
I hope my friends speak well of me
In that way I may be judged
That despite all my shortcomings
I lived the life I loved
Each of us has the right to choose
Some lead, some just want to follow
In time the pebble will return to shore
Look forward to tomorrow.
There is a fourth poem somewhere in my memory but I cannot think who it by........It was Pebble who set me of writing my piece above.......I just think the three go together and the Old Scarlett one is both good and different enough to cause the reader to pause and..........I'm blathering but ....like them together.