Slighted

A slight, a snub; you took offence.

Can you be sure the slight was meant?

A slight inflection of the voice.

A hint what’s said contained a threat.

 

A mocking tone, the merest hint

Yet quite enough to take offence.

A slight inflection of the brow

It’s not what’s said but what you sense.

 

You feel put down, not treated right

So little respect for your position.

It’s hard to put your finger on

The understated opposition.

 

You carry on, ignore the slight

And try to act with dignity.

But clearly you feel undermined

He got to you it’s plain to see.

 

A response to the Daily Prompt via Slight

Revision Nightmare

pexels-photo-313690.jpegI wake from sleep in quite a sweat.

How, how on earth could I forget?

I’ve not done my revision yet.

I’m panicking!

 

There’s clearly such a lot to do.

Strict revision’s overdue.

What if I fail and don’t get through!

Must begin!

 

I feel the pounding of my heart.

I wake with such a dreadful start.

For all my plans will fall apart!

Start studying!

 

But now I shake myself awake.

“You’re thirty two for goodness sake!

There’s no exam you have to take”.

You’re panicking?

 

And this went on for several years.

Waking from sleep with these same fears.

Convinced it would all end in tears.

Imagining!

 

So those of you who’re studying now.

Bent over books with furrowed brow,

With so much work through which to plough.

Good studying!

Core

 

We are the core believers

The very heart of the cause.

We hold to the fundamentals

Beliefs that can’t be ignored.

 

We believe to the core of our being

The cause is both right and true

To deviate would be grievious

It saddens us that you do.

 

If our core belief is generous

And based on a love that is true

We’ll forgive you your faults and failings

In knowledge we have them too.

 

But core beliefs based on judgement

Are a totally different ‘to do’

We know we are right and clearly you’re not

So so much the worse for you!

 

via Core

A mother’s day tribute.

A tribute to my mother first published in March for U.K. mother’s day.

Andrew Green's avatarAndrew Green's Poems

1EFE2111-9F9A-44B9-8452-08203822DEA7A tribute to Margaret; my mum, first presented at her funeral service April 2010.

My mum was writing her story. She had been at it for years but could never get beyond the first chapter. It was about her mother Lily who was working as a cook for a family in Brighton and the policeman who regularly took tea at the house and became the father mum never knew.

It was 1939 when to have a baby out of wedlock was seen as a shameful thing and for a single mother to keep her child was out of the question. So mum was fostered out to a family who treated her badly, the children teasing her mercilessly and the parents giving her regulation slices of bread and butter while the rest of the family ate a full tea. It explains perhaps why she turned to comfort eating in later life…

View original post 909 more words

Skewed

Your aim’s not straight

It’s bent, it’s skewed.

You’ve hit it wrong

It’s been miscued.

 

You hit it wrong

The flight’s not true.

It’s not gone

Where you  meant it to!

 

You hit it wrong

It’s such a shame.

It’s clear that you

Are off your game.

 

We get things wrong

We make mistakes

You had a chance

You didn’t take.

 

Today you failed

You don’t feel great

Another day

You’ll hit it straight.

 

via Skewed

Aunt Rene 100

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My auntie’s nearly a hundred

That’s really a ripe old age.

Last of her generation

Though once she was one of eight.

 

There was Dora, Gilbert and Vera

And Alex who was always called Bill

There was Elsie and William, known as Will

Rene and little Sylv.

 

The girls stayed close to Granny

Elsie, Rene and Sylv

They kept the family together

When sadly our granny had gone.

 

They worked for a while in a wool shop

Giggly sisters three.

We travelled around but they’d always be there

Core of the family.

 

Rene was bright as a button

Direct and sometimes could seem sharp.

But it was just her way

We’d catch the smile.

 

Her husband Fred went before her

Collecting fares somewhere else now.

Sadly her dear son Tony

Didn’t survive his mother either.

 

So last of her generation

A hundred year old aunt Rene

A modest enough little party

But for us she’s the queen of the Greens.

 

Lost in the forest

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I’m lost in the forest

Lost  in the wood

Surrounded by trees

Encompassed in myth.

 

Who lives in the forest?

What lurks in the wood?

Secrets surround us

What darkness is this?

 

Folk tales and heroes

And things that are hid

Don’t talk to strangers

Or get lost in the wood.

 

Men of the forest

All dressed in green

Things we don’t speak of

Perils unseen.

 

Keep to the path

If you pass through the wood

Hear the trees whisper

Beware of the wolf.

 

via Forest

The New Forest Pony

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A handsome New Forest Pony

Wanders across the road

For the ponies of the Forest

Are free to graze as they will.

Commoners rights are centuries old

It’s always been this way

So cars slow down to the pony’s pace

And life is pleasantly slow.

They say that ponies have grazed here

Many a thousand year.

And later on ‘‘twas a hunting ground

For Willie the conqueror.

It’s not all trees in the Forest

There’s open moorland too.

It’s a special place you can get away,

Stay, visit or just drive through.

You may meet a pony in the road

They’ll likely slow you down

But adjust yourself to the Forest pace

They’re a pleasure to be around.

via Forest

Royal Wedding Visitor Guide

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Are you coming to Windsor?

Here’s all you need to know

Where to see the Royal Bride

Or catch Chris Evans show.

There’s screens all down the Long Walk

Refreshment areas too.

The Irish Guards on Castle Hill

And lots of extra loos.

There’s park and ride

Or park and float

There’s extra trains

or come by boat.

Musicians, entertainers

Lots of things to see.

Or parking at the racecourse

And see it on a screen.

The Bride arrives at high noon

Carriages at one.

Process around the royal route

All be done by two.

Rebel

 

You like to be thought a rebel

But what are you rebelling against?

You just like to put your oar in

Be loud have your own point of view.

 

What would this world of ours look like

If things were just left to you?

You like to raise an objection

You want us to listen to you.

 

Left to your own devices

What is it exactly you’d do?

Perhaps you’re only rebellious

Cos no-one takes notice of you

 

Daily Prompt via Rebel