Parenthood

Remember all those sleepless nights

That you had with your child?

Remember how they cried and cried?

Well that may seem quite mild!

When you think it all has passed

And you have started winning,

Think again and you will find,

It’s only just beginning:

As they start to grow and grow

There’ll be squabbles, there’ll be fights

And you may start to wonder,

If what you did was right!

Puberty will follow then

And adolescence too -

And with it comes more worries,

Like “Are they sniffing glue?”

What with that and pocket money,

Food and clothes and shoes,

Private health and education,

It really is bad news!

Then again, more sleepless nights

As they’re out at a rave -

Worry, stress and more expense

The future may seem grave!

But after all is said and done

You’ll look back without a doubt,

With happiness upon those years,

It’s what parenthood’s about!

 

Spring’s in the air!

‘Twas on a grassy knoll I stood,

Gazing downward to a wood

Where bluebells like a carpet lay

It fair did take my breath away,

And over yonder, ‘cross the field,

A single clump of daffodils,

Nodding oh so silently

Against the hedgerow’s greenery,

And on the breeze, which made them sway,

The sweetest smell of dew-fresh day.

 

The Canal

The trees they drift,

As the water shifts,

In ripples, made by flies.

The curlews call,

Above them all

And clouds float, in the skies.

The blackbird sings,

As dusk comes in

And the moon comes out to play.

The sun just gloats,

O’er narrow boats,

At the end of a perfect day.

 

World’s Apart

Water from the swimming pool,

Bursts wet on dry stone-flags,

Spreading through its porous skin

Like blood through sweat stained rags.

Music plays and voices scream,

Cold water in their faces.

Guns and shells and battle cries

In long forgotten places.

Naked children on the beach;

Cries of joy and fun.

Tears of hunger: Sadness: Pain.

Orphans ev’ry one.

Serb and Croat refugees,

Each with many needs;

Manipuated victims of

Someone’s power and greed.

Fam’lies on their holidays

“We need a break” they sigh.

“Likewise” shouts Rwanda,

“From all this genocide”.

 

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