I Had It Made!

The day the smell of bubblegum reminded me - I'm gettin' old!

The taste of summer days of fun and play are now - now just feeling cold!

A life both long and fun are lost to some but you had one - you had it made!

You have become you grew you are

you are the light that makes the shade - 

on a silver platter laid!

You had it made!

A soul that followed you into your world and took your heart - you made it so!

The seeds you sowed the fruit it bore brought hearts of joy - you watched them grow!

And with your heart your wisdom gave you taught them love must be the way - they had it made!

Now they've become and they have grown with direction of their own they're not afraid - they've made the grade!

They have it made!

In another world another far off land is like - a dream that you.

Might find a love and live happy life with her - live successfully too!

And people say to me that man you live a perfect life and that -  you got it made!

They ask me what's the secret to just what I've got and how you do you upgrade - they sound betrayed!

They want it made!

A life both long and fun are lost to some but I had one - I had it made!

I have become I grew and am

I am the light that mades the shade - 

there on a silver platter laid!

I had it made!

I had it made.

Grey The Mood

(A poem re-write based around a funeral I went to, as well as being inspired on a day when a friend had a funeral to go to. Both days, a storm brought heavy wind and rain. 

The poem is written for her and for me and the friend I lost all those years ago)

The rain lashed down.

Cold,

freezing cold,

partly sleet,

cold sleety rain.

The wind howled

throwing the rain against the grey slate of the church roof.

Mourners,

wrapped in coats and jumpers and scarfs,

umbrellas abandoned,

useless in the gale,

standing by the graveside 

each alone in their loss

their thoughts expressed on their faces.

The relentless rain,

the location,

the ceremony.,

...all seemed appropriate. 

Grey the sky.

Grey the churchyard. 

Grey the hearts.

Grey the mood.

(Haiku)

I quit the fags by

eating sweets. Now I simply

need to quit the sweets

(Haiku)

A pitch black gloom gives

way to cold, dull, misty grey -

Colours of Winter

From Me Shed

I'll never be a 'Vermeer' 'cos I'm alive,

me poetry won't sell cos I'm not dead!

So I'll have t'keep on writin',

hope me paintin's keep ignitin'.

Scratchin' a simple livin' from me shed!

Storm Arwen

Arwen.

Ahhhrrr-wen!

Her very name sounds like an angry wind!

Storm Arwen.

Arwen came and Arwen roared!

Furious!

Wronged!

Seeking revenge!

Marching throughout the land,

trees bowing down before her,

offering their leaves in appeasement.

Their branches screamed in pain under her power.

Many failed,

breaking down,

branches like limbs strewn across the earth.

Mercilessly,

savagely,

rampaging across the land,

pillaging,

laying waste to all who offer a resistance,

futile,

...futile,

   ...futile resistance!

Her destruction done,

Arwen takes to the sea

...and Arwen was gone!