Our lives will change Beyond compare, But it’s only right That he should go. It’ll be strange without him here But life moves on That’s how it must be. He’ll make a life That we can’t know A life for him for Times to come So I wish him well My wonderful son.
Poems
Worlds Apart, by Mike McBride
My first world was a chocolate box: discovery and innocence; Free from the anxiety that one day I must leave. Others have been better, and worse, but never so enchanting since. The bedroom was a sacred place: filigree, white lace and chintz, With tasselled woollen dressing gowns and strange exotic creams. That first home was…
For Those in Peril, by Roger Read
I’ll die in the sea. It’s my birth room. The womb. From which I was born. Roger P. Read 30/4/2019
Uncertainty 2, by Bob Trinder
She loves me, She loves me not. She loves me But not a lot. She loved me, Though I’m not sure If she loves me Anymore!
Uncertainty, by Bob Trinder
‘I think, so I am’ Well, I’m not sure that’s true ‘Cos the person who’s thinking Just might not be you. You could be a figure In somebody’s dream, You never can be certain Things are what they seem!
One’s lost control – One’s got control! by Marlene Yates
Heavens above, what’s wrong with you? Please get down from the tree, – You’re not impressing anyone – Least of all not me! Your audacious, sad behaviour Makes me wish that you weren’t mine – So stop this silly nonsense Or I’ll end up doing time! When it’s chilly you play outside With your sandpit…
Dead Leaves, by Bob Trinder
Wind, blowing dead leaves, Rustling along the lane like dead souls, Their moisture and shining suppleness gone, Leaving only a desiccated, darkening husk. Wind blowing dead leaves, as I pass by, Reminding me of people I knew, Whose laughter and knowledge Stopped, One day. And, like a leaf, I will be blown, dry and lifeless,…
It is what I do now, by Liisa Strong
It is what I do now Not walk to the familiar door Not turn the key in the locks Not collect the post from the floor Not stop. Instead I walk past the building hurriedly The windows are strangers Wind roars with insidious intent Larks about along the pavement. It is what I do now…
March Newsletter
‘If winter comes, can Spring be far behind?’ (Shelley) Well, here we are in mid-March (nearly), and the promise of Spring is very much in the air. Verges and hedgerows abound with snowdrops, daffodils, violets, and primroses. Creativity is in the air too, and Rich and I are delighted to reflect on the success of…
Pieces of You, by Roger Read
You are not dead ! I have your cells And you are well Absorbed in my body. In my head From a chimeric spell. Twist of genetic fate. A mistake. Nature’s take. About which to debate. I’m One on the outside But we are Two on the inside Where we live and reside. The graft…
Early Morning Crystal River, by Roger Read
Ahead sparkling Jasper, Garnet and RubiesFlickering red and bright.Towards us come Spodumene and DiamondsDazzling and incandescent. All these gems shiningWith a speed that’s indecent.Amber and Citrine light up, implyingA turn left or right.Blue flashing Topaz and Sapphires,Sirens wailingIndicate a jewel’s failing.The red and whiteCells at the heart of the Nation.Flow to their jobs of creation.In…
Home Farm Orchard, by Roger Read
Aldwick Beauty Tasty and fruity. Sussex Forge On which to gorge. Wadhurst Pippin Just slipped in ! Crawley Reinette Delicious ! Gordon Bennet! Golden Pippin Gets me trippin’. Mareda I’m here to feed yer! Knobby Russet Love it! Golden Bounty Nature’s generosity. Egremont Russet Earthy and rustic. First And Last A mouthwatering blast. Saltcote Pippin…
I Remember, by Fliss Pople
Looking back through the years of people I have known where are they now I wonder how have their lives grown have they found wisdom and realize their dreams can I ever really know how their lives have been Maybe on another day I will understand the way their lives have altered just as they…
Tech Life
Recently, a conversation covered ground relating to science fiction, and whether artificial intelligence will ever be a reality, and if AI will have consciousness. Together with the choice of the word minutely, this formed the start of this poem. I hope you like it. Tech Life Science scrutinises minute component parts, learning wholes work through…
Seaford, by Chris Goode
It’s not a seaside town, it’s a town by the sea It’s not much to look at, a bit like you and me, It’s quirky and it’s quaint and it needs a lick of paint. It’s Peter White our famed Town Crier, Shoal Project seating and the Guy Fawkes fire, It’s shrieking gulls and the…
