| Just For You |
I don't think that many people would dispute my belief that the true essence of poetry is personal contact.
It has to be admitted that poetry is an art form which is impossible perfectly to delineate. It has such a great range that it can induce in us a wide variety of emotions. Poetry can take us on a journey from the depths of despair to the heights of delight. But the basis of every poem is the same. It is an effort to communicate our thoughts and feelings.
This form of communication can be both deeply personal and widely universal. But each poet, in his or her own way, is trying to send out a message, sometimes to one person or sometimes to the whole world, and in the greatest of poems, to both.
On reading this page, I hope that you will recognise and understand that message loudly and clearly, because it is written Just for You.
Some of the poets have allowed us to include a short biography giving details about themselves and their poetry.
I AM ME JAY
In the cool shadows of the hospital ward,
Distantly I see brightly lighted windows.
I lie calmly taking in the quiet and the light,
Yet longing for sun upon my face, and music in my ears.
Instead I hear the beep, beep, beep, beep,
And the pumping of my heart,
The slam of pumped oxygen being forced into my lungs,
And I know I am machine connected.
What has happened to my dignity?
I am like a babe, mewling and puking in my nurse’s arms
Yet closer to William Shakespeare’s
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans everything.
I wish to vomit once more at the thought
Of being connected to a machine
Which does my breathing for me,
And which ties me down to a hospital bed.
This is not for me, I should be at home
Languishing in my own bed, gasping for air,
Yet free from all encumbrances,
And able to choose my own next activity.
Thomas Eccleston, Kilwinning, Scotland
WINTER BLUES
Waking up before the dawn
Dark skies above, I start to yawn
Getting ready for the working day
In a hurry, no time to play
A quick breakfast down it goes
Something warm before it snows
Going out in the cold cold air
Hope there’s no ice on the bottom stair
Round the corner and down the lane
At this time of the morning, I must be insane
Everyone else tucked up in bed
I have to go to work instead
Hopefully waiting for a bus
That’ll turn up on time without a fuss
Standing freezing in my old training shoes
That’s why I have the winter blues.
Jack Dobbin, Greenock, Scotland
GRATITUDE
On this up and down road of life
I am walking happy, sad.
Sated, hungry.
But most of all alive.
The rhythm beats in my chest.
I am young, I am old.
I am sick, I am well,
But most of all I am alive.
I fight daily using my mind and my body.
I gain, I lose
I am busy, I am bored,
But most of all I am alive.
Everything keeps changing
Winter comes, summer goes,
I am cold, I am warm
But most of all I am alive.
For all the challenges and all the changes
Please let me thank you.
For this precious gift of life within me creator
Let me show you my gratitude.
Messan Foley, Aviemore, Scotland
I BELIEVED IN YOU
Every time your heart beats
When you walk a dark street
Life can really suck you dry
Every time you leave me
Every time you leave I cry
Darling don’t deceive me
Don’t you know you need me
Even in your darkest loneliest hour
I believed in you
Were each other’s fantasy
Even though our lives were world’s apart
Every time you hold me tenderly control me
Inside your walls I’m alive
Every time you leave break my heart deceive me
I always knew this love would survive
Every time you touch me
O how your love drugs me
Bringing my seeds to flower
One day you’ll feel our love in its finest hour.
James Anderson, Caithness, Scotland
AT MOTHER’S KNEE
We were taught to pray at mother’s knee.
She had our welfare at heart you see.
We learned gentle Jesus meek and mild,
Also, look upon a little child.
Mother believed God answered prayer,
So she left us all in His care.
She prayed for each one of us by name.
And we were all treated the same.
My mother had no money to spare,
But she was never full of despair.
She knew she could turn to God above
Who had compassion, and was full of love.
One day she was in desperate need,
She had five hungry children to feed.
Mother got down on her knees to pray,
And God answered, with food straight away.
Prayer should really be from the heart,
And we must always do our part
By letting our God have full sway
And eternal life will be ours one day.
Vera G Taylor, Bradford, West Yorkshire
LOVING AND LIVING
I love you now my darling
Much more than words can say
For when I had no confidence
You came to show the way
I’ve had so many thrills with you
Tenderness and care
And when I’m at an all time low
I know you’re always there
You’ve always lived life on the edge
While I’ve been nervous and shy
But now I’m over all my pain
Can wave my fears goodbye
I’ve learnt to live life to the full
While you’ve been by my side
I know I’ll go from strength to strength,
Now that you’re my guide
Jacqueline Gillard, Guisborough, Cleveland
I dedicate this poem to my partner, who was there for me
during my illness and beyond.
DARKEST DAYS
Across the coalfields all standing bare
Colin’s head, hung in despair
All one can do, is stand and stare
Eyes wide open, with just a glare
His career now ended, what must he do
Find something else, what can he do
He stands proud and very bold
The coalfields empty now we are told
Fields looking green, when once where black
No piles of coal, not even slack
Miners getting redundancies, otherwise the sack
The name is Colin, I must confess
Who turned out to be one of the best miners, like Colin too
God up above, is so proud of you
Joan Stevenson, Doncaster, South Yorkshire
THE NEW CREATION
The Lord is making a
New earth and new heavens.
Rejoice and be glad.
There will be no more weeping
On his sacred hill.
Only Christ knows the way there
Half human through Mary,
He calls us his brothers
For holy and sanctified
Are all of one stock.
Past events are forgotten
God sent his own Son
In our physical likeness
To condemn in his body
What man could not do.
Now the law’s just demands,
Sufficing his followers,
No longer unspiritual,
But rather behaving
As God’s spirit rules.
Alwyn Jolley, Penrhyn Bay, Wales
LIVING
Widower am I but I do not grieve
Since recalling, our Lord God’s words,
True love eternal and this I believe
Our loving Lords words I’ve read or heard,
No death for those who believe in Jesus our Saviour
Follow his footsteps wherever they go.
God given conscience guides human behaviour,
Words crystal clear, we reap as we sow.
Man shall take to himself a wife to love,
Mind body and soul, shall become one.
God of love on earth and heaven above
Through Jesus Christ and Holy Spirit, his will is done.
Jesus knows so well our trials and tribulations,
Showed the way to overcome all adversity.
Sadness and pain the cross to bear for every generation.
From mountains high, valleys on to jungle city.
He taught pray for forgiveness and be forgiving,
To heed this not, is such a pity.
Give up taking and take up giving,
Makes sense of birth much more of living.
Jack Evans, Porthcawl, Wales
THE ROCK AND ROLL KING
A cold wind blows around Gracelands home
Corridors echo where ghostly footsteps roam
A candle still burns as years roll away
In peoples hearts and minds memories remain
Colourful suits and a priceless guitar
Memorabilia behind sheets of glass
With his sexy looks and sultry smile teenagers rocking in the aisles
Love me tender and blue suede shoes
Young and old got in the groove
He met Priscilla his turtle dove
Worshipped her and the child they had
Then a tragedy took over his life
He disappeared like moonless night
Tears run down like fallen rain
Our idol at peace with all his pain
He was unique a great entertainer
A star so bright who gave so much pleasure to people’s lives
As the curtain comes down with a haunting refrain
He was the king of rock and roll a never ending star
Primrose Matthews, Caerphilly, Wales
MY VALLEY
I have longed to leave my valley of rolling hills
Black slagheaps winding rivers with velvet
Green banks away from smoking chimneys and
Screaming squealing kids to find a place
Where silence is the norm and even the birds sing
In muted hush away from the rats that gnaw into
The very soul and rifle the last morsels from your table
I have longed to leave my valley to listen to the
Silence of my own company with just the hint
Perhaps of waves breaking on some distant shore
Where golden sands stretch empty of wailing life
Yet I fear longing shall stay within my aching breast,
For in conversation with myself I spin the truth into
A web of lies, and with the reality I will free the ghosts
Of my longing and in the knowledge gain some solace
To my troubled mind
Derek Morgan, Aberdare, Wales
I LOVE YOU ALWAYS
It isn’t what I write,
It isn’t what I say,
It’s the feelings deep inside me,
Which are with me each night and day,
I never thought of losing you as
You are always a part of me,
Loving you always,
And forgetting you never,
I have to say some special words,
Without me shedding a tear
This is my heart saying,
I love you my dear.
Anne McTavish, Ulverston, Cumbria
Anne McTavish started writing as a child. “But I didn’t realise
my poetic side until I went on a creative writing course,” she explained. “My
work was influenced by a very understanding tutor at Furness College
and I would describe my style as moving in many ways. I would like to
be remembered by the words I see and write and the style I want to share
with all.” Aged 41, she has three children, Graeme, Donna and Claire
and a grandson, Kyle. “My biggest fantasy is to magic peace to the world
and my biggest dread is the departure of my children, growing up and
leaving home.”
MY SISTER VERA
From babe to adult you took me under your wing,
shared your dreams with me, and everything
Stories, your imagination became mine,
when no one was near,
you were always there for me, sister dear.
As December approaches, and Xmas cheer,
I do not feel excited but sad, this year.
From being small children, my sister and I
have loved this time of year,
still children in our thoughts, sister dear.
Planning the presents, even opening them before Xmas Eve,
this year will be different, I will have to leave
your present on a grave, hoping you will see,
how much sister dear, you still mean to me.
When death has won, you will reach out your hand,
and help me, just like you have always done.
Iris Tennent, Earby, Lancashire
VICTOR
Hail thee Victor
boa constrictor
coiled round my chest
You know what’s best.
Tanya Sorell, Sale, Greater Manchester
OCTOBER 23RD
Her head was hanging down,
As she knelt beside the bed,
Her eyes fixed on the floor she simply said,
“Bethan, your daddy is dead.”
Now I didn’t know it then,
I was only six years old,
But a part of my life would forever be left untold.
She started to cry, just quietly,
And I hadn’t understood what she had said,
But not only was daddy gone, her soul, too, was dead.
And although I was consoled that I still had my mother,
I soon came to realise she had lost her life and her lover.
There is a sadness in her eyes,
That won’t die away,
And a void in our lives that will never decay.
Bethan Williams, Wallasey, Wirral, Merseyside
THE GREATEST TEACHER
Prophet Mohammad is the world’s greatest teacher
He was the most pleasant and perfect preacher
He taught us to be special, smart and strong
That we must not do things that are wrong
My prophet’s nice name will live for ever long
Abdul Aziz Kashmiri, Rochdale, Greater Manchester
MOTHER LOVE
A mother she clothes you and feeds you
Takes care of you when you are cold
And when she puts you to bed at night
Just think of those stories she told
To listen when you have your problems
To help you when you’re feeling down
She’d put a smile back on your face
Then you wouldn’t be wearing a frown
She doesn’t give love on condition
That you have to be good every day
She’ll love you whatever you’re doing
And even when you go away
She’s the one who loves you so dearly
And no other love seems to be
As strong as this I discover
It’s the best in the whole world to me.
Mavis Ann Abrahams, Standish, Greater Manchester
A WINTRY SCENE
Multi-coloured leaves drift down, my tears like falling rain.
Feeling deep within my heart I’ll never love again.
You need your freedom dearest, and as my being aches
To hold you in my arms once more, frost each car-top cakes.
Misty, moisty, fog-swathed days, existing as in dream.
Putting on a cheerful face, inside I want to scream.
I let you go my own one, and life won’t be the same,
What joy t’would be, just once more, to hear you speak my name.
Silence from the telephone: “Oh, damn you, damn you, ring.”
Knowing well that if it does, my heart will start to sing,
But after all it’s winter, a bitter icy time,
And somehow one expects the worst (this ain’t a summer rhyme).
Passed the days of caring warmth, sun-kissed, free from strife.
Both of us with sad, dead hearts, yet getting on with life.
But life is nought without you, and autumn colours glow,
Harbinger of spring’s new life, please God let it be so.
Kathleen J Holmes, Heaton Moor, Greater Manchester
BRIEF ENCOUNTER
One long look was all it took
to fall in love straight away.
The way she walked, the way she talked
sent a message over my way.
She eyed me up, she eyed me down
what she saw I hoped she was liking.
After a while she started to smile
which made her all the more striking.
Over she came, I thought she was game
I assumed we were in for some fun.
But my ego deflated when she hesitated.
Then she whispered my flies were undone.
Now quickly recovered, my vanity smothered
Taking exception to females who trick us.
I then became bolder and tapped on her shoulder
and said her skirt was stuck in her knickers.
John Topham, Widnes, Cheshire
MY FIRST LOVE, MY ONLY LOVE
Sometimes as I close my eyes at night I think.
How could this special and unique person be mine?
Then I realised.
God sent you to me as someone to hold, to love me and care,
who’ll always be there,
Someone to share with, someone to laugh with,
Someone I can spend the rest of my life with.
But then I thought to myself.
How did God make someone as perfect as you?
Then I realised.
He took the brightest star from the heavens above,
Added some moon-dust to fill it with love,
He took a sunbeam and mixed it a while. “This shall make his sparkling
smile.”
He dropped a splash of the bluest ocean and eyes appeared in his magic
potion.
Finally the sweetest part, a deep red rose for a big sweet heart.
He uttered a word and shimmering bright, a sparkling star fell to earth
that night,
It was a precious person, the one from above
Forever and always this one I will love.
Nicola Wright, Warrington, Cheshire
To James, with love.
I REMEMBER
I remember when we first met,
though it was so long ago,
I’ll never forget your smile,
to see you once again took my breath away.
I remember it rained all day,
so many years have passed by,
when we shared your umbrella you and I.
You were so gentle and kind,
I remember the soft, gentle kiss upon my cheek.
I have thought of you many times,
more times than I can remember.
You were so very special
to share my thoughts and my dreams,
there will never be to me someone like you.
Edna Fallowfield Jones, Chester, Cheshire
Born in Chester Edna Fallowfield Jones enjoys painting,
walking and writing poetry. “I began writing verse ten years ago to escape into
the beautiful world of words,” she remarked. “My work is influenced by
God’s creation and my style is creative. I would like to be remembered
for the affection and kindness I try to give to my family.” Edna is a
retired hairstylist with an ambition to write a book and have some of
her poems set to music.
A SMALL FAMILY
My family mean so much to me
Always smiling as people see
We work together to keep it smooth
Keeping it happy in the groove
My daughters go to school to learn
Work so hard like a new broom
Homework is always done on time
Neat and tidy with such pride
My wife she works so hard all day
Jobs are done with no delay
Cleaning, cooking, shopping too
Such a lot of things to do
I take the post all day long
Singing merrily a happy song
The money helps to pay our way
It does not stop me going grey
About my family that is all
As we are so very small
We keep on smiling all day long
That just keeps us very strong
William Victor Williams, Oswestry, Shropshire
SPRING
Pretty flowers as spring awakes
Daffs, tulips colourful, and gay.
Days are longer even stronger.
Even fowls are at play.
Make life all worthwhile.
Healthier life is such a style
Cars are faster, speeds go up.
Lives are taken out of file.
Walking, jogging, losing pounds
Sunshine all around,
People talking and always laughing
Dogs barking at their sound.
Pauline Millman, Kidderminster, Worcestershire
Pauline Millman said: “I write poetry as this comes easily. At school
I was always writing and presenting plays. When I think of something
I put it down quickly. I run a magic and entertainment show for children.
I have also done lots of TV in soaps and plays, meeting many well-known
people. Mindy my pony is my life and I lost my dog to old age. I’m divorced
and I would like to have a meal with Sir Cliff Richard. I hope to soon
write my own book. I would like to be remembered when I’m gone.”
COUNTRY LAD
My mum and I used to listen to tales told by my dad
About his life and of the times when he was just a country lad.
He hated school and used to play tricks on the teacher;
Loathed sums, but considered school dinners the best feature.
Sometimes there were no buses, because of snowdrifts high as hedgerows,
So he trudged to school with gloved hands tingling and frozen toes.
On Sundays he pumped the church organ and sang in the choir,
Then went home to eat bread and jam in front of the fire.
He loved visiting his grandmother and enjoyed her apple pies,
Which were kept in the larder safely away from ants and flies.
He liked the fields, flowers, woodland and the scorching sun;
Animals, birds, butterflies, and taking his dog for a run.
He liked the simple things in his life, being a country lad ...
And I’ll spend hours remembering because he was my dad.
Sue J Bell, Nuneaton, Warwickshire
Dedicated to Eric David Ladds, father of Sue and Carole, (stepsisters).
WHISPERS IN THE BREEZE
The breeze blows her dreams
to him. Her whisper caught in
the web of his mind, driving him
wild with absent breathing and sighs ...
She comes to him in silence.
Her love, her laughter, her smile.
Safe in the space that is for eternity
her home inside his memory.
In his heart is ache and longing
for a love that has to wait.
In his loneliness she murmurs in his
awareness of her: You are my reason to be ...
And he is content ...
Sheila Rogers, Walsall, West Midlands
Dedicated to all who have known love and know love.
Born in Darlaston, Sheila Rogers enjoys painting
watercolours, writing and working on her computer. “I started writing poetry when I retired,
to fulfil a lifelong ambition and my work is influenced by life and love.
I would describe my style as open and I would like to be remembered with
a smile.” Aged 66, she is retired and has an ambition to publish a novel
and be recognised by her peers for her talent. She is married to Ernest
and they have two sons and two grandsons. “The person I would most like
to meet is Prince Charles because I have always thought of him as a prince
charming,” she added.
PH, I LOVE YOU
The sound of your voice,
When you reach that note,
Just leaves me no choice,
It’s you, that I vote,
Over and over again,
You soothe away the pain.
You travel far and bring to light,
The poverty and all the plight,
Of those, who are downtrodden,
So easily, forgotten,
That’s why, you mean so much to me,
Your selflessness, your honesty.
Your songs, your words, take effect,
Around the world, we all reflect,
Upon your strife for peace,
For all the wars to cease.
Don’t give up, on the things you do,
There’s so much love and life in you.
If I could make my wish come true, I’d love to read this poem to
you.
Gini Knight, Market Drayton, Shropshire
THE GIFT
Just for you the world wakes up every day,
And when its done the moon comes out to play.
Just for you the sunbeams dance across the lawn
On every sweet new summer’s day that’s born.
Just for you when autumn comes the leaves begin to fall,
Once again the climbers reveal their naked wall.
Just for you the snow falls to dress the winter trees,
Parks take on the look of magic as the ponds begin to freeze.
Just for you comes Christmas filled with love and joy,
Stockings filled with presents thrill each girl and boy.
Just for you a new year with promises anew,
Once more resolutions of what we must do.
Just for you the snowdrops raise their pretty heads
Promising more treasures will awaken from their beds.
Just for you spring beckons with flowers everywhere
And squirrels chase the magpies away from hidden fayre.
Just for you, the world wakes up every day.
Diane Ireland, Sutton Coldfield, West Midlands
FROM THE STORES, MEMORY REMAINING IN MIND
A lady leaving the stores trips my way.
I step aside to clear her passage approach;
Momentarily, she thanks me with a smile,
Unnecessarily, got to my heart an immediate encroach
Instantly passing, yet, lingering a while
Happy and content with my family,
Earnest concern for our relatives, no holiday
Yet, throughout the day, meal breaks, gardening,
Necessity, myself to myself continually pardoning,
My will powerless to achieve rejection.
Now, approaching the end of my day,
My thoughts still analysing that day’s proceeding
That sweet, smiling face still appears to stay,
So, offering my prayers, it seems interesting,
All known to the Almighty - what would he see?
That smile? Probably a clear soul, virgin pride;
But eternity. Belief without proof all humans denied
Including both she and me.
James Lucas, Shrewsbury, Shropshire
TO A CHILD
Beat swords into ploughshares is what men must do
To make this earth safe for children like you.
Spears into pruning shears, think what it will mean;
The most wonderful world that ever there’s been
Since the very beginning when Jehovah declared
Eternal life as His purpose, He gave His sure word.
But sadly perfection lapsed into dismay
Yet He still kept His promise that in some future day
He’d return all Creation to His original plan,
Paradise would abound, bringing great joy to man.
Sylvia Spencer, Castleton, Hope Valley, Derbyshire
MEMORIES
I am alone and utterly bereft since you left
We may not have always seen eye to eye.
But to die!
I miss the way we used to talk
And often walk
The dog through fields and lanes
Losses and gains
To make ends meet was always tough.
But just enough.
The kids were clothed and fed
And firmly led
It was a full and happy life
A little strife
But worth it when you think it through
I’d do it all again with you.
Patricia Pickworth, Louth, Lincolnshire
A ROMANTIC VERSE
When I gaze upon your picture in its frame within my mind
I know my thoughts must go in search, for romantic words to find
I feel that I should write in verse, place my message into rhyme
May you enjoy my rhyming phrase, I’ll love you till the end of time.
I love the smile upon your cheek, the love light in your eye
The softness of your voice in speech, when alone, just you and I.
I love to hold your hand in mine, and feel the warmth within
The message it sends back to me, romance forever now begin.
Let me take you in my arms, and receive your tender kiss
And frame this picture in your mind, this is my dearest wish
May these romantic lines of verse, stay deeply in your heart
And may we share this life’s romance, and never more to part.
Donald Futer, Bardney, Lincolnshire
TRUTH
I never though you’d do that
And still I think you didn’t
But clues turned into evidence
That you have lied to me.
The reason for this is unknown.
Yet, that I will discover.
The truth. Where has it gone?
It’s hidden in your heart.
Elena Uteva, Beeston, Nottinghamshire
ABOUT AMBER
Each time I look upon this child
One phrase will come to me
Amid this harsh and troubled world
Pure innocence I see
Not two years hence since she was born
To bless us with her life
The world is rosy now, fulfilled
For my son and his wife
Her father calls her a delight
Her mother says sheer joy
To show how she is bathed in light
There are no words so pure
A little smile worth countless wealth
I know she will go far
I wish her love, I wish her health
I hear her say “Ganma”
Dorothy Blakeman, Uffington, Stamford, Lincolnshire
These words are for Amber to read when she grows up and understands how
happy she made us.
BANSHEE WIND
It whispers the name of another victim
Along rickety fences and among the trees
And taps on splintered window sills,
Then it builds, becoming more than just a breeze.
The whispers turn to shrieks and howls
With wordless threats and awful shouts,
And, howling louder than before,
Calls the name of the victim out.
It gets beneath the victim’s covers
Like a phantom, with its icy breath;
A shade that is born in darkness,
Bringing to its victim, death.
Shamelessly it rapes the night,
Screaming, crying, it tries to find,
By knocking, aimless talking, midnight calling,
Takes its next poor victim; the banshee wind.
Robert E Fitzjohn, Derby, Derbyshire
MY VISION
One night in bed I had a dream. Upon awakening it would seem
such fancies should disappear.
Yet peering through these sleepy eyes to my amazement and
surprise my vision stood and smiled at me.
Then gradually with clearing head I realised she had shared
my bed; each slumbered in our dreamy spheres.
Her body had lain close to mine. Our love-making was as a wine,
intoxicating both of us. With gentle words she rallied me whilst proffering
up a cup of tea.
That lovely vision was my wife.
Sometimes I wonder what she sees in this old man with aching knees,
plus painful back and shoulders sore.
Yet I know she tries to be a truly loving wife to me, excelling in so
many ways.
Thankful I am for love like this, a marriage blessed with
happy bliss, a vision brought to life in Peg.
William Barnett, Ipswich, Suffolk
William Barnett said: “At the age of 65 upon retirement from serving
in the menswear retail business for over 50 years I composed my first
poem. Since them United Press have accepted four and my own book, Pearls
of Wisdom containing 47 poems has been printed. These are both amusing
and soul-searching as I endeavour to convey a complete picture within
a frame. A personally signed copy would make an ideal gift. Send a £5
cheque for some relaxing, enjoyable reading to, W T Barnett, 95 Priory
Court, Priory Park, Nacton, Ispwich, Suffolk, IP10 0JX.”
A SONG FOR MARY
A special song I ask the muse
One that may endure,
A song for Mary that promises
My love and life to her.
The song should be a happy one
Of laughter, joy and bliss,
The song should be a gentle one
Like her smile, her touch, her kiss.
The song should sing the glory
Of the wondrous love we share,
And sing our love eternally
In the melody of prayer.
A special song, I ask the muse
Of love and promise true,
That, in some small way, will help me say
Mary, I love you.
Ira-Paul Schwarz, Knapton, Norfolk
Dedicated to my wife.
LITTLE ANGEL
I know a little angel, who sits upon my knee.
I know a little angel, she is the light of my life.
She lights up even the darkest day with giggles and hugs.
Whether covered in chocolate or sparkling clean.
A kiss and a hug are required.
I know a little angel, who is the apple of her nan’s eye.
Who dances through my days and lights them up.
My dearest darling granddaughter angel.
Who’s just divine.
Jean Savage, Great Yarmouth, Norfolk
THE HAUNTED HEART
When sorrow strikes too deep for words,
and the mind takes not its leisure,
but trammelled to the desolate plough
makes yesteryear its measure.
Let not these lone aching furrows deepen,
o’ertake and so hold fast.
Remember oft with love and kindness,
then lay aside the past.
Marcia Baker, Teignmouth, Devon
THE SECOND COMING
Behold, the sky is bright with his arriving,
Flinging fair beams of golden glory o’er
The darkened planet, all asleep, unknowing,
While here and there it stirs in troubled dream.
“I see no light; ’tis but a trembling shadow -
A movement in the sky, a cloud, a wind
Stirring the leaves and whispering in the roof-tops;
’Tis dark, and midnight; leave me to sleep again.”
Come then, our Lord; the universe will hail you -
Crown you with all the light of all the stars;
Richly reflect your iridescent shining -
Cry “Holy, holy,” Sovereign of all the years.
O Jesus, God incarnate, come at last;
Treading in state heaven’s bright and royal road;
Filling the cosmos with your awful splendour -
Majestic in your radiance; King of kings.
O face divine: unseen and yet familiar;
Marred more than any man’s: now glorified;
O Friend, the Refuge of our life’s long journey-
One glimpse of you, and we are satisfied.
Vera Urwin-Mann, Tavistock, Devon
Vera Urwin-Mann said: “As a child in the early 1940’s,
I gave my life to Jesus Christ, believing he loved me, died for me, and
will return,
as he promised, for all who trust him. He remains the inspiration of
most of my writing. I retired early from nursing due to rheumatoid arthritis.
My husband, Tom, shares my faith, and together we aim to serve the Lord
as we are able. From childhood I have looked forward to meeting my Saviour.
The Second Coming is, therefore, not a remote idea, but a daily personal
anticipation; a beacon of hope in an uncertain world.”
I
REMEMBER JANE
There was a fair damsel from Edge,
Who kept a fat book on a ledge;
When it fell on her head,
She took to her bed,
That brain-battered book-worm from Edge.
Joyce Bridle, Stroud, Gloucestershire
A STRANGE STORY
Listen, listen to the strange story of a strange youth ...
He entered my life, suddenly, like an angel out of the sky
And it seemed as if heaven glided through the earth
For I had met a creature so sweet, soft spoken and selfless
That it illuminated my heart -
The warmth of which still glows inside me.
Never someone so spirited had I met.
Our intimacy flourished freely for a few years which seemed like a lifetime.
Then did occur the terrible tribulation of separation,
Leaving me heartbroken and teary-eyed until we were reunited.
But when we were,
he inflicted upon me the even more terrible tribulation of
The transformation of heaven into hell,
And this is the ultimate trial of love.
Nahid Zaman, Upminster, Essex
Dedicated to my wonderful literature teacher, and friend, Bruna Lamanna,
to whom I will always be grateful for the support.
Born in London, Nahid Zaman enjoys creative writing,
reading and working out. “I started writing poetry at the age of nine because I loved
reading and saw what I was inspired to write myself,” she explained. “My
work is influenced by my innermost feelings and moral issues and my style
is spontaneous, free and flowing.” Aged 21, she is a retailer with an
ambition to become an economist and econometrician. “As well as magazine
articles I have written many poems and had several published,” she added.
WINNER IS THERE TO WIN
Master is strong in mind who always believes.
Winner’s made apparently as mother conceives.
In most cases they were destined to fail.
They just come back with long stories to tell.
Once successful, no one should forget the background or lie.
The parents were the backbone, no one should ever deny.
Sacrifice is behind any success on your part.
Achieving your goal by self-reliance is a well known art.
Some time you need to work alone in the whole afternoon.
The sunshine may be fading but soon sky’ll be bright by the moon.
Sailen Chandra Sadhu, Northolt, Greater London
THE BITE
Take a bite with all your might
Calm the wavering palm
When all is calm
Okay, no need to break a wall.
The more you put, the more you have
To give a hope that peace is made
From a babe to a don to
Finish like a swan.
From gem fruits and nuts
Sometimes our eyes are shut
When there is room for all
We will have a ball.
Georgina White, Canvey Island, Essex
Georgina White said: “I have had 18 poems published.
I have also written a book The History of Canvey Island. I was a teacher
and I trained
at the Charlotte Mason College in the Lake District and taught at Luton
and Gable Hall Grays, but for 20 years I have had a bookshop, which I
gave up last year to care for my elderly mother. I spend my time between
Canvey Island and Almeria, Spain where my parents have had a villa for
the last 35 years. I like reading history books. This and the lifestyle
I have had, influence me in my writing.”
A MUSICAL TREASURE
I
declare I’m a bit of a star-gazer
With this star you want to sing along
Of nature, sadness, joy, love and hope
There is a magic in every song.
If you want a bit of a boost
Or just feel you want to relax
Put your CD on
And listen to Charlie’s tracks.
Hear a rich mellow voice of deep velvet
You’d like to capture and to hold
From this kind and brilliant man
With a great big heart of gold.
Lyrics expressed with such sentiment
Melodies you will never forget
Fill your heart with enjoyment
He is the best daily tonic yet.
Make a date to see him in concert
For you will receive endless pleasure
From singer/songwriter of country and ballads
Charlie Landsborough is a musical treasure.
Sheila Lovell, Selsdon, Surrey
GUARDIAN ANGEL
You are my fragile guardian angel
I feel loved and protected when you’re near
But lost, cold and empty when you aren’t
I loathe this endless and insatiable emptiness
It’s near impossible to focus on anything else
You fill the gaping black hole that I hold inside
Instilling it with a feeling of wholeness
That I’ve longed and searched for, for so long
I have never felt happier or more at peace
Than when we are in each others arms
Or when I stare into your deep soulful brown eyes
I think I could fall into them and get lost forever
Feeling your strong arms gather me up in an embrace
Is like being wrapped in a warm, protective cocoon
Unfortunately with these thoughts swimming
through my brain only helps to fuel
The utter desperation and frustration
I know we will be back together very soon
But to me it never seems to be soon enough
Clare McCoy, Hadleigh, Benfleet, Essex
TWINS
It’s great being a twin
Never alone
Because I have you
On the same wavelength
It’s great being a twin
All life through
Always when we meet
Happy times
Laughing times
Party times
It makes life longer
Being a twin
Ann Sheridan, Hanwell, Greater London
BRAVEHEART
He stood tall in his saddle, face painted blue and white,
Bearing the cross of St Andrew, Scotland’s emblem, and it’s right.
He shouted loud his brave war cry, across the rugged land
Inspiring men to follow him and fight at his command.
Many men fell in the battles, so many brave and strong
Fought to free their homeland, to remain where they belonged.
The mist-covered mountains heard their cries, which echoed far and wide,
But with the light of day they saw the many men that died.
They followed their leader to the end,
it was William Wallace’s kingdom,
Their hero defended Scotland the Brave with his battle cry of “Freedom”.
Ride on Braveheart, the voices cry, you died to set us free,
And history will remember you fulfiled your destiny.
Jan Imeson, Burgess Hill, Sussex
NELLIE DORIS FILBY
A very special super gran
“Nellie Doris” is my Nan
Precious moments for a time
She rearranged this heart of mine
A friend to smile and share a tear
Was always there to lend an ear
Freshly made a cup of tea
Waiting up to welcome me
Set the table full of treats
Come on love have some eats
A minor cut upon my knee
Little darling come to me
Danger lurking on the bend
Nanny’s ready to defend
I only wish I had the time
To tell her what is on my mind
My love for Nan I always hid
Even after all she did
But now there’s something I can do
This poem nan is just for you
Fred Ablitt, Southend-on-Sea, Essex
Dedicated to my dear nan, Nellie Doris Filby.
Born in Westcliff-on-Sea, Fred Ablitt has interests including
writing, motorcycles and fishing. “I started writing poetry only a few
years ago,” he pointed out. “I had a sudden inspiration and found I had
the ability to write. My work is influenced by everyone and everything
and my style is wide-ranging and versatile. I would like to be remembered
as having made a positive contribution for the benefit of all people.” Aged
44, he is a plumber with an ambition to progress in his writing and go
on to short stories and novels. He and his wife Julie have children Michael,
Simon, Jason, Scott, Anna Marie and Elizabeth.
JUST FOR YOU
I want everyone to know how special you are,
Your smile is inviting, your wit overcoming,
Eyes so bright like stars at midnight
Your company is bewildering, your presence is demanding, your strength
has no fear.
The world wouldn’t be the same without you,
You touch many with your kindness,
Inspiration you give and hope is never to far,
This is from my heart, this is just for you.
You have levels of consciousness, and deepness,
Each with explanation and admiration.
You affect people with amazement and jubilation,
Always there for someone. I feel you
Deserve more, you shouldn’t be unnoticed, it should be recognition. This
is from me, just for you.
Michelle Alexander, Kingsbury, Greater London
I AM VERY MUCH MISTAKEN!
Murray, Murray, why have you gone?
Why leave the place where you brightly shone?
Race after race you flew at a pace
That even left Schumi a hopeless case.
You’re fit as anyone else on the grid,
And far from being an invalid
Your keenness beats even me -
And I’m two years from twenty-three!
Your gaffes are part of what you are,
A genuine, caring British star.
And whatever your critics say,
You’ll grab the pole on any day.
So when I sit and watch TV,
Eagerly waiting for the Grand Prix,
I pause, and wish you were still there,
For you are special, one-off and rare.
James Wood, Hayes, Greater London
PROVOCATION
Under subjection
The heart suffers a rejection
from your coward soul.
Under power provoking streams
fear exudes eternal screams
when you pierce through my quiet dreams.
Non translate melodic scene
tricked in game in goading scheme,
a parody of sense unseen.
No magic potion cures the chemistry,
can interrupt the potent constancy,
gloss over yesterdays imagery;
or soothe my heart from your indifference.
Incredibly the first snowdrop
creeps through frozen cracks
unscathed.
So Lord, touch me.
Deliver my soul
as my heart floats
bewildered in the deluge.
Thelma Vandridge, Chatham, Kent
MY FAMILY
My children are my inspiration, my anchor, and my hope.
They’ve been born with great tenacity, and endurance to cope
With whatever life may throw at them, come sunshine or rain.
They’ll lift themselves up, and tread happiness again.
They have great senses of humour, they love to laugh, and sing.
Music fills their hearts, and souls, thus great pleasure brings.
Life is no rehearsal, you only have one chance,
They work hard, pull together their lives to enhance.
There is a common aim when we gather our family clan
To rejoice, spend hours of jollity, or to hatch a plan
For ambitious enterprises, try to fulfil such dreams.
Sometimes the dreams seem too ambitious through lack of means.
Dreaming is a pleasure us humans can enjoy,
Whether it be work or leisure, or planning a wee girl or boy.
Years are flying by, and proud grandma now I am
Of three beautiful grandchildren Georgina, Oliver, and Sam.
Pat Meringo, Littlehampton, Sussex
INSPIRATION
You were an inspiration to us all.
But especially to me.
Even when I was little you would sit me on your knee.
You would tell many different stories,
Even poetry as well, many adventures you would tell.
You showed me life’s for living,
To grab what’s aimed our way.
For who knows what tomorrow brings,
As you would often say.
I grew up and had a family
But you got very old.
Then that day came, when the wind blew cold.
The angels came and took you.
I cried and felt the pain,
Knowing that it wouldn’t be quite the same again.
Life still goes on and you taught me so much.
You are such an inspiration, thank you dear nan.
Thank you very much.
Julie Hook, Faversham, Kent
Born in Tankerton, Julie Hook enjoys writing, fishing, cycling
and swimming. “I started writing poetry when I was six because I enjoy
it,” she explained. “My work is influenced by my family, people and places
I visit and my style is imaginative. I would like to be remembered as
a person who wrote great poetry and stories, as well as a good mother
and wife.” Aged 34, she is a housewife with an ambition to have more
of her children’s stories published. She is married to Steve and they
have two children. “The person I would most like to meet is William Shakespeare
because he was a brilliant poet,” she added.
DREAMS AND NIGHTMARES
Dreams may come
Dreams may go
When and where
No one will know
Dreams can travel
Just like you and me
They may be started
As easy as saying A,B,C
Nightmares can start
As easy as saying one, two, three
So beware when you fall asleep
It could be a scary, scary nightmare
or it could be lovely, lovely dream
David Ariss, Bracknell, Berkshire
David Arris said: “I am 49 years old and I live in Bracknell,
Berkshire. I started writing poetry in June 2000, when I joined a poetry
group at the Whitmarsh Centre, which is run by the charity Mind in Bracknell.
My writing style is modern and from the heart. Moods and life experiences
are the things that influence my writing. Apart from poetry I love acting
and cooking. My ambition is to make a name for myself in poetry and acting.
My biggest fear would be to lose my sight, as I would not be able to
write or act.”
LITTLE FUZZY HEAD
Dear little fuzzy head you once lay in my arms
You were all smile and giggles,
Then you were gone,
Gone, my sweet baby brother to our Lord upon high.
You paid but a fleeting visit.
Time was so short, is seemed to fly
Dear little fuzzy head we miss you still.
It may be thirty six years since we last met,
Though somehow it still seems like yesterday.
Had you lived, I often wondered what you would be?
How about a soldier like grandad?
Maybe you would have been a lawyer, then maybe not.
We will never know, for you are long gone
Your sweet little fuzzy head we will not see again
However, in our memories you still linger on.
Fiona Barnes, Bedford, Bedfordshire
JUST BETTY
I met her many years ago
Betty I was proud to know,
She was always there with a listening ear
The friendship grew from year to year.
We did many things together,
Here and there, whatever the weather.
She loved her garden and all the flowers,
The seeds she planted, thrived, helped by the showers.
I remember the laughs we had,
And things too, that made us sad.
Betty had time for all,
And ran to help at every call.
A generous and caring person,
One from whom I should take a lesson.
Alas, she is no longer here
But not her wish, to shed a tear.
Yes Betty, a true friend indeed,
Always there in my hour of need.
Juliette Brown, Banbury, Oxfordshire
MY FAMILY
They all mean so much to me,
I would never change my family,
There’s my mum and dad
Who cheer me up when I am sad,
Then there’s my three sisters and a brother,
We are always there for each other.
Then there’s twelve nieces and nephews,
Who are always asking for sweets or chews.
Then there is my two guinea pigs, and my dog named Gem,
I don’t know what I would do without any of them,
I would hate to be all alone
With no one to talk to on the phone.
I think it’s sad when families drift apart
Do they really think that it is smart
Life’s too short for petty things,
We should be happy with what life brings.
I am glad my family has remained as one
We have so many laughs, and so much fun.
So to my family I want to say,
I wouldn’t be without you lot any day.
Linda May, Southampton, Hampshire
MY BEDTIME PRAYER
Thank you Lord for my lovely day,
Free from pain and suffering.
Please help all those afflicted with pain,
Those too ill and too old to complain.
If you can help my own family,
To keep them safe and help them in your own way.
We cannot see our future as you can,
But I feel sure you can guide us along God’s Way,
God bless.
Valerie Willan, Andover, Hampshire
TO A VERY DEAR DAUGHTER-IN-LAW
Pretty, clever and cuddly too
Hope you find happiness in all that you do
Especially on this your day
May lots of love be winging your way
Happy birthday darling
You’re a wow
Good wife and mother
Decorator, gardener
Good manager and how
Loving husband, two fine sons and
A beautiful home
You’ve got it all there
But so much better ’cos of your loving care.
Janet Wight, Kinghorn, Scotland
Born in Bowness-on-Windermere Janet Wight started writing
poetry in 1983 after the loss of her husband and having to give up the
family home. “My
work is influenced by love of my family and also personal inspiration,” she
pointed out. “My style is sincere and easy to read and I would like to
be remembered as someone who cared and had strong faith.” Aged 88 she
is a retired widow with a son and two daughters. “I have written a short
story dedicated to my father who died of war wounds in 1918,” she said. “I
have also written around 100 poems and had many of them published.”