Tag: Poetry

Changing Guard at Buckingham Palace

They’re changing guard at Buckingham Palace

Christopher Robin can’t go says Alice

They’ve furloughed all the Coldstream Guards

A soldiers life is terribly hard

says Alice.

They’re changing guard at Buckingham Palace

Christopher Robin can’t go with Alice

A soldier has to be very alert

to stop the virus from being caught

says Alice.

They’re changing guard at Buckingham Palace

Christopher Robin can’t go with Alice

They socially distanced all the bands

A sergeant checks they wash their hands

says Alice.

They’re changing guard at Buckingham Palace

Christopher Robin can’t go with Alice

They can’t have parties in the grounds

friends and neighbours can’t come round

says Alice.

They’re changing guard at Buckingham Palace

Christopher Robin can’t go with Alice.

A face looked out but it wasn’t the Queen’s

She has to shelter so it seems

thinks Alice.

They’re changing guard at Buckingham Palace

Christopher Robin can’t go with Alice

Do you think the Queen is bored like us?

Don’t suppose she makes a fuss.

says Alice.

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Socially Distanced VE Day

Grab a stranger by the hand

paddle in a fountain

that’s the way to celebrate

be a happy nation.

 

Trestle tables down the street

party with the neighbours

heaven knows they endured

quite enough privation.

 

Hug the nearest one you can

cuddle with a sailor

dancing in the city streets

proper celebration.

 

Now we all remember them

sitting in our garden

maybe all go out the front

social isolation.

 

Raise a glass then if you can

to a distant neighbour

one day we will dance again

be a happier nation.

 

Up and down the City road,

In and out the Eagle,

all the pubs will open up,

be a celebration.

Christ can’t come this Easter

Christ can’t come this Easter

They’ve locked him in the tomb

Hope may spring eternal

But don’t come out your room.

 

The church is locked this Easter

The priests all stuck at home

We’re worshipping remotely

The strangest Easter known.

 

Recall poor Jesus’ passion

The three days in the tomb

Pray for resurrection

For getting out your room.

 

Three days can change everything

So what will these weeks do?

There’s going to have to be a change

I guess it’s down to you.

 

 

Summer of Sixty Six – Part Two

Rheindahlen was a school bus ride

The largest base around

But we were based at Wickrath then

With German neighbours round.

Just a few flats where we lived

Canadian and English

Not much to see or much to do

But kick a ball

And wriggle through

Imaginary defenders.

We’d play on any patch of ground

Back then kids were allowed to

So leave us on our make do pitch

And move on with the story

As I shift the scene to Wembley’s green,

And coming English glory.

Hurting

My new Wattpad book Light and Bitter is an imitation, I almost said ‘irritation’, of Rupi Kaur’s best selling Milk and Honey so part one is about hurting because boys hurt too.

Suicide is the biggest single cause of death among young men in the UK and, if women are struggling to break the glass ceiling, there are plenty of men at the bottom of the heap, our prisons are stuffed with them.

Thanks

man-person-cute-young.jpg

For the smell of a new born baby’s hair

We should give thanks.

For the chill of November morning air

For the opening strains of a favourite tune,

And the glimpse of true love across a room

We should give thanks.

 

For the first sip of a well earned drink

We will give thanks.

For our favourite uncle’s friendly wink,

For the kiss of gentle, late summer sun

For the chatter of children having fun

We will give thanks.

 

For the warming glow of a winter fire

We should give thanks.

For the joyful chorus of Christmas choirs,

First sight of snowdrops, promise of spring,

For the long lazy days that summer brings

We should give thanks.

 

For all the sounds and sights and smells

The things we see and hear and feel

For the senses that deliver these

We should give thanks.

Diffident and quite reserved

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Diffident and quite reserved

He was loath to join in

And would rather observe.

 

He’d keep his distance

Quitely watch

He didn’t care for others much.

 

Meal times he would eat alone.

And, as for company

Preffered his own.

 

Yet there’s little doubt

He didn’t miss much.

We didn’t know him

But he knew us.

 

He’d stand to one side

And just observe.

What lay behind

That quiet reserve?

 

 

 

 

 

via Observe

A response to the Daily Prompt

Abrupt

You’re curt, abrupt, so very rude

Why must we put up with you?

Brusque, abrupt and so off hand

What are we supposed to do?

 

The simplest statement sets you off

As if you think we’ve challenged you.

Snap, bite off the speaker’s head

What the hell is up with you?

 

You’re on your own, I’m out of here

No point putting up with you

Treatment cavalier and rough

I won’t take any more from you.

 

via Abrupt

A response to the Daily Prompt

Astonished

pexels-photo-848740.jpegAstonished, astounded

Surprised and quite shocked

My faith in humanity

Shaken and rocked!

You oughtn’t have done it

You really should not.

It’s really quite dreadful

And won’t be forgot!

Astonished, confounded

Confused and bemused

Who’d have expected

That you’d hold such views?!

It’s really surprising

I’m taking it hard

Just so astonished

You’ve caught me off guard.

via Astonish

A response to the Daily Prompt