Read Poetry from Reflections
First Time Lucky For Romantic Poet
Poet John Lynch had a first time success when he entered a poetry competition with a romantic poem for his partner.
John submitted “How Lucky Am I?” for the national competition run by publishers United Press.
“We received over 3000 poems for this free competition. They came from all over the UK and many were by published poets. So John’s entry had to be something special,” said Peter Quinn, one of the judges of the competition. “It’s a passionate, uplifting poem - beautifully simple yet powerfully touching.”
John wins the £100 first prize and his poem will be published in a United Press anthology, “Reflections” which is due out later this year. John will also receive a free copy of the book.
“I wrote the poem all about my partner, Claire,” said John (45) who lives in Bellshill. “It’s quite a romantic poem explaining how much I appreciate her. We’ve been together for just over two years and I’ve already written several poems for Claire. When I wrote this one I thought it was something extra special and that’s why I chose it for the competition.”
John came across the competition when he saw the unitedpress.co.uk website on the internet.
“I noticed that they ran free poetry competitions so I thought I would enter this one, and my poem about Claire seemed to be the perfect one to submit,” said John. “I’ve written many poems and songs but this was the first time I’ve entered a competition and I’ll certainly enter more in the future.”
John works as a furniture deliverer and his partner Claire is an NVQ trainer.
HOW LUCKY AM I?
A full house in all bingo games I play
To win the lottery twice in one day
If every plant was lucky white heather
If sunshine was the only weather
To find a tear in the Atlantic sea
That's how lucky I would need to be
A football season without a loss
To find a pearl in my oyster sauce
Shooting stars, the only kind I've seen
To catch every traffic light at green
To win that coveted golden cup
For my toast to always land butter side up
I've counted my chickens and every one has hatched
A prize on every card I've scratched
This sort of luck my whole life through
Is what I would need to find another you
John Lynch
Below you can read excerpts of other work from poets published in Reflections.
COLD TEA
Icy cold water, pot filled to the brim
Tinkling of china on a sea of ease
Smiling, searching clear hazel eyes of him
Her wild hair flowing, she’s ready to tease
Few sweet leaves in cups of yellow and gold
And smell of rose petals, sounds of a score
Pot whistles universal tune of old
Vapour rising, bubbling and cries for more
They tasted the wine now their thirst is quenched
Stealthily and swiftly she creeps away
No cup of Earl Grey, their passions are spent
But love’s elixir still lingers today
Searching thoughts of prose, poesy and the muse
Wherever they lead to one cannot choose.
Monica Reynolds
APPLE BLOSSOM WEDDING
Sometimes I remember the exciting day
When first I was told, my cousin Lily
Was to marry Jim
There was excitement about the wedding
Lily took me aside to say
I would be her main bridesmaid
I was to wear a dress of pink satin
Apple blossom in my hair
Lily’s dress would be white set in pearls
With a veil that reached down to the floor
Lily’s bouquet arrived made up of apple blossom
Matching the band in my hair
The bells were ringing as we arrived at the church
For Lily’s wedding day
The organist were playing here comes the bride
On that apple blossom day
Thelma Hill
A HEAVENLY HOST
So dark is the night, so bright is the moon
As the stars slide into view
Angels sprinkle fairy dust
To add flavour for me and you
So beautiful is the golden moon
As on high it sits so bold
Many a wish has been made
And many a story has been told
The mystery of the galaxy
Behold the darkness of the unknown
The angels who sing in harmony
Balance on a regal throne
Listen and you will hear the angelic voice
Whispering on the breeze
A million harps will play in harmony
Echoing through the trees
As the night sky drifts on and on
And the shooting stars give their display
Deep into the darkness dreams are dreamed
For tomorrow is but another day
Mary Dunne
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MOTHER UPON MOTHERHOOD
How often do you hear people say
We do not belong in the world today
Values have changed manners disappeared
Yet when we look backover the years
We valued greatly the possessions we had
Many small items made us glad
People were friendly, they showed care
We were never left on the streets to roam
Love was foremost in our parent’s mind
Secure and loved we felt in our homes
Outside in fresh air, we could play each day
With never a fear of being snatched away
Throughout the year, friends would say
You do sound like your mother today
Perhaps one day the tide will turn
Thus paramount, motherhood will return
A firm foundation is needed to build
A loving relationship for all to yield
Down the years we have respected you all
Mother, upon mother, we love you
Rosemary Parkinson
THE ARTIST
I fly on my dreams and I float in the streams of hope and joy down to the sea
I swim in the oceans of dreamy devotions, far out so the rocks can’t reach me,
My guiding light flashing in crystalline splashing, steering me gently to land
And when I return only then will you learn of the beautiful power of my hand
I’ll show you the way and I’ll show you the form and I’ll show the true meaning of life
So join me now and forget the hard world with it’s cruelty, trouble and strife
Now come and drink deep of the beauty I seek and create with my pen and my brush
I’ve the peace that you’re after, the happiness, laughter, the freedom of mind from life’s crush
Cecil Walker
LIFE’S ATTRACTIONS
Framed oblong pictures fixed to the wall
Vying for the attention of one and all
Different people travelling on their way
Who pass by closely everyday
In single file they can only glance
Ascending and descending they have no chance
To stop and study the displays of life
Comprising many forms whether peace or strife
Art, theatre, education, films, uniformed services
Doctors, models, sports, nature, nurses
Birds, animals, exotic places, air flights
Cruises, musicians, stately homes, scenic sights
The escalator provides stimulation
For people to reach their destination
Can these images make us still?
To enjoy modern life that seeks to thrill
Thomas Conlon
Dedicated to Carmen, Janice, Joan and Lisa who during 2009/10 assisted in developing North East England as an attractive area.
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WATER UNDER THIS BRIDGE
The perfect night has gained a flaw,
You are not by my side, the prettiest things my eyes saw.
You had me, my heart and I.
Your absence crushes me, I feel to cry.
I would move mountains for you, give diamonds and rings,
If only you could come to me on angel’s wings.
This couple I see is as warm as can be.
They remind me of times we spent together - just you and me.
These waters are my memories, both murky and clear.
And if I listen close enough your voice in them I hear.
I’m not asking for a miracle, or for some sign to appear.
I just long for you, that’s all, and tonight I wish you were here.
This water passes under London Bridge
Like my memories of past before.
But memories, our memories will be forever in my mind to store.
The city lights reflect on the water,
I smile at some memories it highlights.
And I see lovely memories of when we were together,
Happy and free. The cold winds of time blow against me
And tell me I must move on.
Across the water you are somewhere,
And to you, my love still will belong.
However I am no time traveller; I cannot return to the past.
The suicide of leaping from this bridge
Will not make the memories of love last.
Somewhere you are singing sweet melody,
Making ripples upon the water for me to hear.
And I recite this poem for you, for the wind to deliver to your ear.
Kingsley Olaleye Reuben
WINTER BUGS ( 2008 / 2009 )
‘Twas in the late November, as far as I remember
We caught a sort of flu,we did feel rather blue
Then Christmas, to our sorrow, a nasty
thing called ‘Noro-virus’ laid us low
And dealt us quite a blow
In January next a cold, but more infection did unfold
By now I’m feeling quite neurotic
And needing a good antibiotic
In February - half term time - out with the grandkids
What a climb, up castle ramparts, forget arthritis
Shame we caught conjunctivitis, developing into sinusitis
I’d like to move to somewhere hot
A winter bug- free sunny spot
But in some places like Australia
There are other things that could just ail you
Like jellyfish and crocodiles and other
Places many miles away
Have snakes and parasites, flesh eating bugs and
Things that bite
Giant spiders and of course, malaria and lots of things
That are even scarier
So perhaps we’ll stay and just endure
Our bugs until they find a cure
Valerie Burch
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LED BY A DISTANT CRY
A crystal dawn through mulberry heaven
And rest relieves my jaded wing once more
Elements sway from voyage driven
Regard saffron sands and a windswept shore
Respite upon this sight I am given
This desolate, wild land I so adore
Over serene waters fierce currents flow
Our unpretentious land of long ago
Nicollette Foreman
WINDOWS AND MIRRORS
Vacuous, voracious vanity, flattered
The image reflected all that mattered
All flaws detected, swiftly deflected
The picture perfected, carefully selected
But over time, the cracks appear
They spread across the glass veneer
The image distorts, the illusion is shattered
A face contorts and the pieces are scattered
And all that once remained concealed
Has now risen up to be revealed
The fragile ego is bruised and battered
Poor self-esteem lies torn and tattered
Now all the ugly truths are out
Accompanied by fear and doubt
But be assured, not all is lost
As true worth does come at some cost
It’s not as bad as once was feared
Not all hope has disappeared
Through the windows of our own reality
We catch a glimpse of our true humanity
Nicole Miller
FLOWERS OF SPRING
I tiptoed freely in the cool of the evening,
Through the acres of fields
And meadows green,
Amidst the beauty of heaven on Earth.
I entered a forest and rested a while,
And saw the wildlife of many species.
There were bluebells and daffodils, buttercups and daisies,
Reflected through a woodland stream.
Cattle grazing peacefully, free from care and woe,
People working on a farm, from early dawn to night.
In the far off distance I caught sight of a train
And made my way, unhurried, to the station.
Memories of my childhood came clearly to mind
Of my brothers and sisters in trainspotting days.
We took our sweets and sherbert drinks -
Mum and Dad came too.
It was now time for me to leave, the time passed quickly.
On my way home I picked some flowers -
A reminder of my happy time among
Mother Nature’s flowers of spring.
Jim Carlin
THE TWO WOLVES
In the lodge house of the Cherokee
An elder sat with tales to tell
As the young ones listened to him
His words like rain on fresh earth fell
He spoke of battles of the past
His nation’s former glories
The children hunkered round the fire
Held hostage to his stories
Yet here a mighty fight goes on
He pointed to his heart
A bitter war is waged in me
In which two wolves take part
The same two fight in all of us
In you and everyone
The first wolf fights for peace and truth
And for justice to be done
The second wolf tears with tooth and claw
For envy, hate and greed
Which wolf will win? The old man smiled
Whichever one I feed
Maureen Dawson
MAKE HAY
Life comes, goes, we’re in its sway
We grow, learn and choose which way
Hoping for the sunlight’s ray
But storms come then move away
Still Mr Blue Sky behind the grey
What mystery power shapes our way?
Inspiring most, even some to stray
What phenomena brings each new day?
Motivating us in our own short stay
When Earth still turns as we decay
What joy beside a lover lay
Feel Earth’s breath in fields asway
Watch reflections in water play
Hear rollers crash around rocky bay
Find golden horde amongst the clay
Summertime, make hay they say
Shake winter blues, discard dismay
Either hide away or pay and display
Whatever’s in store, one thing, we pray
Fill full this life, and in the long stay
Gillian Hartley
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AUTUMNAL LOVE
To find such love in our autumnal years
Was a wonder beyond belief
Innocence was its name
Blessed friendship and oneness of two lonely souls
Those souls were as kindred spirits
They met and knew and recognised
Together these two travelled the Suffolk lanes
They knew the peace of being as one mind
For a few months they held in their hands
The wonder of true love
Now they are apart
And, as I reflect on these words, the tears
Flow for the loss of that time
Yet, I smile, because as I re-read these words written above
I know I was loved, and I loved, in what was an innocent affair
And the memories will remain with me till the end of my days
Of the love, found in my autumn years
Janice Edwards
Dedicated to those who have known love and grieved at the loss of love. May they know love again.
Born in Middlesex, Janice Edwards has interests including reading, runes, crystals and writing. “I started writing recently after reading some verses written by my daughter. I was checking them for her,” she commented. “My work is influenced by my lifestyle and I would describe my style as free verse. I would like to be remembered as a free-spirited person who lived life to the full and had a great belief in freedom of speech.” Aged 67, Janice is retired and has an ambition to cruise the world. She has three children and five grandchildren.
ELATION
Now when the cherry blossom
Is brightening up the heavenly blue sky
You feel so elated, over the moon
Nor do you doubt
That spring here rules
With all its might
To make your heart bounce with joy
To delight your soul,
Dance in the golden sunshine
Wherever you are, in a garden or park
You don’t need to cast your eyes around
To confront the illumination
Of splendid clusters of rosy stars
Richly smothering branches of trees to enthral
You, to fill your mind with high hopes
To compel you and to accept that the world
Is your oyster after all,
Where you feel so great and free
To fly into the rosy future
And fulfil your dreams...
Lucy Carrington
LIVER
Live, liver, live and add another day
For who, when, where and which way?
What and how can I say?
Liver’ live life’s long lovely way.
For who and what was she so fay?
We met in weather so dull, so grey
Near the banks of the river Tay,
Soon searching for a croft of hay.
Illicit love would have its way,
Of life’s food, richer than the sea-cray
The staple diet of our archipelago cay.
A string of islets with many a deep bay.
Having loved once we loved once more that day in
The musty, stale, warm hay
Protected from the weather so grey
With life’s succulent will, to live another day.
Stephen Greasley
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PHRASE FOR A RINGTONE
Phone on the hook
Look for an address book
Dial a number
Contact the committee member
Dial a company
Order a Christmas hamper
Ring Bobby’s and order sweets and a thali for Diwali and New Year
Contact the weather extension
Find out about today’s weather
Also speak to Heather
Remind her of search for sofa made of leather
Remember to call the surgery and mention about your boy’s injury
Don’t forget to order toys for the baby’s birthday
Confirm with parents about the party on Sunday
Talk with your friend and give her the news about your poetry published in the book
The clock strikes seven, oh
Put the phone back on the hook
So that you do not get charged more
Surbhi Rayarel
Dedicated to my supportive, encouraging and empowering mother - a person full of life and wisdom who enabled me to follow my dreams.
Surbhi Rayarel said: “I enjoy meeting and dealing with people and reflecting on events and incidents on any occasion, and this in turn inspires me to write about it. Nature and the environment encourage and shower me with the thoughts that empower me to pick up a pen and write poetry. It unwinds me and is very therapeutic, as well as challenging. I am passionate about teaching and cooking. Since I was a teenager I have been writing poems and stories, and working in the library and accessing literature motivated me to write.”
THE DECISION
It’s far more painful
To not grow up
Than to enter the real world
With composure.
To cling on tight
To those games and tricks
That don’t match your
Worldly exposure.
A selfish mind
Can turn you blind
When it’s no longer
A product of innocence.
You run out of luck
If you refuse to grow up
And the damage is
Marked by
Permanence.
Emma Davis
HIS LIFE
He came into this world of pain
That I may enter his world and gain
He was born a humble birth
That I may be of some worth
He lived his life so perfectly
That I may enter his family
He taught us the way to live
That I may learn to forgive
He died a death that was so cruel
That I may enter life eternal
He rose again the third day
That I may in heaven stay
He has gone home to heaven now
That I may enter, before him bow
His name is Jesus Christ, Saviour
He has shown me God’s favour
Hannah Atkinson
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