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Category Archives: Writing

You Know It’s…#Poem

You Know It’s …

 

It’s on the tip of my tongue,

yet it’s miles away.

It’s gone in a flash, 

when come time to say.

 

Where does it go to?

Where does it hide?

I know it’s not out there,

it’s somewhere inside.

 

It’s like I am trying,

butterflies to catch.

Have no net to help me,

in vegetable patch.

 

How did I get here?

It’s not where I was.

But when you start chasing,

all focus it has.

 

A change of direction,

for it to be saught.

It’s doing its utmost,

remaining un-caught. 

 

No longer care whether

it was important or not.

Catch it to just prove,

I’ve not lost the plot.

 

The others they don’t care,

it left me, it’s gone.

For subject has now changed,

they dropped it – moved on.

 

But still I keep searching,

my “it” I will find.

I wake in the darkness,

it’s now come to mind.

 

I will say it out loud,

for no-one to hear.

Then turn over grinning,

from ear to ear.

 

20/07/2018

A § M 

    

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Rain…#Poem

Rain

 

Pitter Patter, pitter pat,

rain is landing on my hat.

Pitter Patter, pitter pat, 

lightning strikes to scare the cat.

Pitter Patter, pitter pat,

in little brook there swims a rat.

Pitter Patter, pitter pat, 

through the soft mud, splat, splat, splat.

Pitter Patter, pitter pat,

make a splash in puddle flat.

 

Drip by drip and drop by drop,

from hat falling, plop, plop, plop.

Drip by drip and drop by drop,

in sheltered doorway, little stop.

Drip by drip and drop by drop, 

floats on past a bottle top.

Drip by drip and drop by drop,

soaks the litter by the shop.

Drip by drip and drop by drop,

back to home – with a hoppity hop.

A § M 

28/1/2018

The Shopping Bag …#Poem

The Shopping Bag

 

Shopping bags 

of plastic made.

Use fabric ones, 

till corners fade.

 

Leather ones,

of decades past.

Still stand strong,

‘twere made t’ last.

 

But all will fall,

close or flop.

When time it comes 

t’ pack the shop.

 

Open – they stay,

all down the isle.

Till reach the checkout

with a smile.

 

Down items slide

to the checkout well.

Make bags collapse,

were standing still.

 

Milk is used,

to prop inside.

Turn – it falls,

 takes down the side.

 

I’ve propped it up,

turn – it stands.

I’ve fallen behind,

 so use both hands!

 

Bag it closes,

to block the food.

Now i’m cursing,

change of mood.

 

Cashier firing,

goods down fast.

As though I vexed them,

in the past.

 

No longer bagging,

but trolley fill.

Get to my car,

then bag I will.

 

A § M 

14/04/2018

    

Snowdrop…#poem

Snowdrop

The snow it will part,

when grow you first start,

twas the deal, you made with the snow.

 

When given the task,

of flowers to ask,

compassion, the thing you did show.

 

He found you were fair,

your colour would share,

in exchange, you’re the first one t’ grow.

 

A § M 

31/05/2018

    

Beach Walk…#Prose

Beach Walk

 

Prestatyn – the top beach,

a day at the coast.

Shoes off, socks off,

it’s time for a walk.

 

Along the wood path, 

built in the dunes.

High views of the beach,

the sea and the golf course below.

 

First though, the car parks

hot rough tarmac.

With a minefield of stones,

some rough, some smooth,

which will it be?

 

Sand reached, relax

toes can sink in.

Hot sand, sun warmed

on this bright chilly day.

 

Not so, when sand deep underfoot.

Hot sting to deep chill,

as my footprint sinks down.

Warm planks, offer chilly reprise.

Though spiky dune grass pokes through the gaps in-between.

 

I walk down to the shoreline,

and quickly retreat.

Ice cold the wet sand,

toes in a tingle.

 

I’m barefoot in winter, what else did I expect?

 

A § M 

07/03/2019

    

A Cup…#Poem

A Cup

 

A poem,

about a cup?

Just what can I say?

An item,

for granted,

I take every day.

 

No thought,

for the process,

it took to get here.

 

Or why,

it is this cup,

a breakage I fear.

 

This one,

a tea cup.

This one coffee.

 

One for,

hot chocolate.

name chosen for me.

 

A unit,

of measure.

For baking a cake.

 

It’s size 

became standard

for potters to make.

 

What then,

before that,

a time before scales.

 

Was used 

as a measure,

for cookery tales.

 

But I am,

the black sheep;

one uses a mug.

 

Though often,

referred to,

a plant pot, or jug.

A § M 

15/03/2019

    

Oh Christmas Time…#Poem#Poetry#Prose

Oh Christmas Time

 

Oh Christmas time,

what joy be had.

When places known,

in plastic clad.

 

Arrows are placed,

as Santa’s lure,

Blinking, pointing,

to darkened door.

 

Corner turned,

I’m face to face.

In grinning Santa’s,

dead eyed space.

 

Rudolph floats

with ethereal look.

Thought Halloween,

was fears right hook.

 

They should not be,

we’ve had no snow.

But snowmen move,

and snowmen glow.

 

We happy told,

this season be.

So fake emotions,

as we fake tree.

 

And remember,

right present get.

Got no money?

Then he’s some debt.

 

Oh Christmas time,

for some a struggle.

It’s all too much,

it’s all a muddle.

 

So feeling anxious?

or feeling Low?

Don’t grip at mask,

just let it go.

 

Seek some help,

with someone talk.

Before you take,

the sombre walk.

 

Past light that flash,

from all things drape.

This winter,

wonder,

fake

landscape.

 

A§M

20/12/2018