Mary lived with dad and mum in a tower block kind of slum near some docks used long ago which she could see so far below. She really pined to get away but being ten she got no pay so she thought upon a scheme which would help finance her dream. Her tower block was very tall and to the ground was quite a fall so she set out to get the proof that you could bungie jump off the roof. If she could do it so would others and come with sisters and their brothers they would pay to dive to ground and Mary would charge each a pound. And with the cash she could flee around the world quite merrily so tying rubber bands in line she slowly made a jumping twine. She got up on the window sill not looking down lest she feel ill then Mary jumped out into space and neared the ground at quite a pace. But her plans would come to nought for halfway down she had a thought "oh dear my plan is not complete I forgot to fix the the bungies to my feet". Luckily she landed on a tree and as she struck she said "dear me leaving home like this is such a shock I'll stay home in my tower block".
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Sooty
We collected her from a puppy farm Where she had really earned her keep Giving the owner many Labs to sell She now needed to rest and sleep. We collected her, all of us together Then took her for her very first roam Her given name was Sooty and She gladly embraced her new home. Her first day and night with us Had her shaking within her fur She needed the reassuring touch Of someone sitting close to her. But once she knew she was staying She fitted into family life She built much loving loyalty Steadfast through our joys and strife. She watched over us always Checking our way was clear Putting herself between us And any stranger who came near. Came the day when she had to leave When her fourteen years began to tell We were there when the needle entered And swaying slightly she gently fell. These animal friends are just on loan And we owners know it well But the pain is deep when they go And for a while - we are in hell.
Old Man
What's your story Old man? What have you seen And done? Put down that watering can And sit here in the sun. Tell me of wars Old man Times short of work And food Did you serve or work the land Just did the best you could? And after that Old man You say you took A wife Had a child but lost her So ran away from life. You ran for thirty years Old man? And never more saw Your home? Do you find this garden Has cured your need to roam? Are you happy now Old man? Do you hear the Skylarks song? Is your soul at peace here Have your demons gone? I've heard your story Old man So I know what To do If life is cruel to me sometime I'll get a garden too.
Holy Land Travels by an Old Lady
She had had a rough life, this lady been left high and dry by an untimely death she had concentrated on raising her boy and would do so until her last breath. Low expectations were her norm, just a work life and her small rented home. Holidays were a great rarity and there was never a chance to roam. She had a faith but hidden deeply the chapel fed her God's love with fear and her eyes closed in prayer by the radio at Remembrance Day Service each year. Then her son, now grown, and wealthy took her to Israel and then Rome, she trod the stations of the cross and saw the Pope go by on his throne. Of all she had seen and experienced in a life that turned out so tough, the visits to these holy cities she said, blest her life just enough.
Time
Old clocks have within them
a cog and a dropping pawl
each click of this assembly
measures time and counts it all.
While the clock rarely varies
and keeps our time on track
the pace of our earlier lives
seems faster looking back.
Our first school, kiss or job
such moments of agony gone
we learnt to ride life's waves
and to go forward, moving on.
And still the clocks keep ticking
as another year goes by
we study, work, marry, while
jealous time wasters don't try.
Some build cathedrals to work
buying homes and keeping fed
now after years of hard toil
can't enter that place without dread.
Time can make work seem pointless
as the sands in the glass run low
perhaps a seat in the sun is better
letting stress and the worries go.
Tick...….
12th January 2013
As I See Things 