Old Year, New Year.
So it’s time for you to leave Twenty Nineteen,
You’ve used up your days and we have seen
All the things you insisted we share,
As you gave them blithely, without a care.
So we took them and used them as best we could,
All mixed together, the bad and the good;
Till they created our months and made it a year
Filled with happy laughter or silent tear.
Now we’re all hoping for peace, health and plenty
Throughout the world, from you, Twenty Twenty
This moment in time,
will never come again.
Perhaps it’s bringing sunshine
or maybe even rain.
But this moment is yours
Just for you to use
in whatever way you wish;
that’s for you to choose.
And whether its bringing sunshine
or showers of damping rain
this moment that you have
will not return again.
I am
more than nothing,
part of something,
Less than everything.
But I still am!
Today there is sunshine
after rain.
It’s good to know
that happens
again and again!
Minutes turn into hours,
Hours then into days,
Days become weeks
In a hurrying maze;
Weeks are soon months
And before you can know
Months are whole years
And what’s there to show?
Thus years become life:
Our own little span
Of time on this earth:
Let’s make it the best that we can!
LOOK! It’s not yet three o’clock!
There is an angry dragon named FIRE,
who is desecrating our valley,
threatening our homes, causing disruption to our everyday living.
FIRE is undisciplined, recognising no boundaries,
having no concept of mercy,
selfishly intent on fuelling and refuelling its’ own anger
by the consumption of that within its’ path.
FIRE hisses and spits at the efforts of mortals who seek to control it,
as it sneeringly flings its’ burning embers past them,
in its’ determination to dominate.
FIRE breathes out blinding smoke and fills the air with cloying ash,
roaring out its’ defiance with searing heat
as it continues to satisfy its’ voracious appetite
in consuming our valley, our homes and our way of life.
FIRE is a dragon whose slaying we work for, long for, pray for, and wait for.
I’ve been talking to you
but it’s a tricky situation:
Since we’ve not been introduced
should we have a conversation?
You are so very beautiful
I think it rather shame
that thus far as I’ve talked with you
it’s been without your name.
I’ve discreetly asked some people
to tell me who you are;
their opinions seem to differ,
and range wide and far!
I think perhaps I need
to just invent a name,
because whatever you are called
you’ll still look just the same.
When we are young.
Life beckons to me, to you,
“Come now and follow,
There are wondrous things to see and do!”
When we are older
Death beckons as he calls our name,
We only need to remember
The words of invitation are exactly the same!
Never write a poem
up there in your head,
’cause when it’s put on paper
the same words don’t get said!
I’m all up in the air,
At least I soon will be,
For I’m packing up my suitcase
To go on holiday,you see.
But before I can get started
That case I have to pack:
Sometimes I put something in
I take it out, then I put it back.
It’s very hard deciding
Just what I should take!
(As there’s only me to think of
It should be a “piece of cake”.)
We’ll be starting in warm weather,
So I don’t need much for that:
Swim togs and a towel of course,
Sunscreen and a hat.
But then they say we’re going
Where the weather will be cold.
And all my winter woollies
Are looking rather old.
My favourite bright red jumper
Is unraveling at the sleeve,
But if I have to leave it home
I know that I will grieve.
My pants are rather thin
So underneath I’ll wear some tights,
And if it gets real freezy
I can wear them too, at nights.
But I have to stop this dithering
And decide just what to pack.
And when I put it in the case
I mustn’t take it back!
I’ve only got two weeks
To decide all this you know,
But if I don’t get to it
I simply cannot go!
I’ll miss beaches, mountains, lakes,
Maybe concerts and ballet!
Oh, I know just what I need:
I’ll hire an “un-dithering” valet!
Yay! Yay!Yay!
Here I come holiday!
from heart to head 