Sunday 20 September 2020

Curtain Call

grayscale photo of woman in black dress

She dances in the almost light

Between the sun and moon

Like a feather weaves and hovers

Amidst a forest-shade festoon


So fragile are those tiny steps

To the beat of nature’s heart

It is the music of the final act

En masse the audience now depart

Saturday 19 September 2020

Tea Dream

grayscale photography of woman holding cup
Photo by Kinga Cichewicz on Unsplash

Tea has found a time for me

In the first hours of the day

A thought-appealing guarantee

In streams of steam’s placating sway

 

I serenely sit reflecting how 

The wistful tea is made to blend

A promise full of mistiness

We in togetherness transcend

 

Whether teapot brewed and strained

Or a teabag dressed to press

Teatime’s quietude infused

Unforeseen not second-guessed





Friday 18 September 2020

Herbstmonat

Picture by:Robert Zunicoff @unsplash.com

 


In the age of ripe September

Third quarter of the year

Giving birth to autumn’s fall

Letting long roads disappear

 

The summer cycle drifting onward

New beginnings in the air

Though now the bright is just a beam

Where all is left cannot compare

 

Walking through to winter’s doorway

In hope our harvest see’s us through

On a carpet pressed with golden leaves

Singing winter songs ice blue

 

Tuesday 15 September 2020

Treetop Feeders


Picture by Cristian Newman @unsplash.com

Our governments
Who make the law
For all of us to live by
Demand that we must
Toe the line
Suffer strife
Lest we comply

But there are those
Who rule the roost
They say on our behalf
Clearly doing
As they please
Some sort of civic
Other half

But then again
Our mouths are closed
For being lazy in the mind
As the order of the special few
Leave people
Stripped and undermined

Laws are spider webs where the big fly’s pass and the little ones get caught - Honore de Balzac





Monday 14 September 2020

Text You Later

Picture by: Laura Chouette @unsplash.com


 

Those words of text have got me vexed

Lacking warmth and prose

With its “if I must I’ll keep it short”

When judging mood one must suppose

 

The text is like a muffled mumble

Stripped bare of tenderness 

A naked note of slapped shortcomings

Of nothing more and so much less

 

A one-way send of little said

Inattentive by default

That is if one replies at all

To cause a freefall somersault

 

So who you are and where you stand

Your rating loud and clear

A put you in your place affront

Blandly distanced cavalier 

Thursday 10 September 2020

My Kind of Kind

Picture by: Dayne Topkin @unsplash.com


You and me

A similar kind

We kind of

Beneficial share

One might teach

The other learn

Our kindness

Steeped in care

Generosity

And friendliness

Are our favourite

Kindly way

The kindest act

That we can do

Is look out 

For me and you

We need a kindly

Smile again

Kind-hearts are 

Shelter from the rain

Wednesday 9 September 2020

Penned



My head is like a farmers field

Scattered seeds of growing words

Gleaning meanings in reflection

Placed in groups of lively herds

 

I would like to write this picture

A coloured scene in dappled green

Populated full of well-meant stuff

Supported by the unforeseen

 

Avoid bewildering long windedness

To let ones reading times fly by

And reap rewards when harvesting

Feed satisfaction to the eye

Tuesday 8 September 2020

Coup de foudre

Picture by: Arul Aziz unsplash.com

I saw we saw

It was like 

A gentle seesaw 

The fluctuate

The oscillate

A primal state

Of grandeur

Each trading state

Each rise and fall

Each ripple sweet

A loving call

Taking turns

We jumped and leapt 

Our smiling eyes

Each other kept

Egging on

To greater heights

We shared the sways

On days and nights

Slowly as we levelled out

Balancing our days

The final smiles

Our soft implores

No more seesaws

Just closing doors

Sunday 6 September 2020

Porthole Progress



Window watching has my eyes attuned
An almost scene of life in doubt
Where points of view and conversation
Can draw my musing inside out

First views might be distracted
By limitations of my sight
A sunlight stream a midnight beam
Or something too immersed in light

In a row of well-placed colours
Waiting silently for stares
Not merely short-lived glances
Where clear attentiveness compares

Thursday 3 September 2020

Finsbury Doughboy

Cafe picture by: Daria Volkova @unsplash.com



From Manor house to Stroud Green
Stretch the lawns of Finsbury park
Where all around free life is found
From sunup until dark

A people’s kinship parkland scheme
Let’s free expression breathe at play
Children’s games on climbing frames
By the Finsbury Park Café

Lifting Coffee mugs and cups of tea
Amid the sandwiches and cakes
Are the welcome brew at the ‘daylight do’
Where the physical take their breaks

No need of ticket stubs or vouchers
Just saunter down on easy way
Take time out for breakfast anytime
In the Finsbury Park Café

 

Written specially for 

Chris & Leigh-Ann Eleftheriou

The Finsbury Doughboy

Monday 31 August 2020

Chariots for Hire

Hail the palatial cabbies

Dougie the Cabbie
A knowledgeable hound
A streetwise conveyor profound
With memory flair
Will arrive anywhere
A mind-map of routes all around
Picking up fares
When the hire-light glares
To a journey that’s anyone’s guess
Maybe a tour or a sightsee explore
Wheeler dealing his Taxi Express
In a city of streets
Where the plentiful meets
Politicians with cabinet seats
Rest assured that he would
For the great and the good
Every journey time promptly completes


This rhyme is written specially for 
Douglas John Davis
London Cabbie Recently Retired

Friday 21 August 2020

Fly-by-Light

Picture by Fiona Smallwood - unsplash.com


Music swirls about my garden
In a consonant of leaves
A mesmerising random dance
In a flush of light reprieves

They rise and spin and circle in
Impishly they stop then sleight
In bends and curves meandering
As though dissolving in the light

Listen well, they whisper boldly
Though they sing in secret mode
With crescendo innuendo
They harmonise in breezy code

Thursday 20 August 2020

What A Corker!

Picture by: Gabriele Lässer unsplash.com


Boil me up a biffin dish
With custard steaming hot
Maybe add a crumble crust
Or placed within a pastry cot

The biffin may be chipped or mashed
A soft and tasty chomp
A regal meal to please a Queen
After a promenade in pomp

There is no perfect time to serve
A distinguished wedge of biffin
Breakfast lunch or dinnertime 
A gleeful treat at tiffin

Wednesday 19 August 2020

Gratitude

Picture by: Caleb Chen unsplash.com


Who would have thought, a year of mayhem wrought
With silent menace hanging in the air
No dropping hats where welcoming’s consort
Empty avenues full of nothing but to stare

Each tomorrow was another bad news day
Hopeful longing for good times to return
We then resigned it was the only way
To wait to be released from our concern

We need not crave those far-off prospects
Where crowds converge in cordial vein
For a while we’ll live in lesser times
Till days when carefree choices come again

May we never forget how much we owe
Those frontline heroes who took a mighty blow

Tuesday 18 August 2020

The Fixer

Picture by Holly Mindrup - unsplash.com


When in need of some attention
Where something will not work
We need a problem solver-guy 
To readjust the knotted quirk

Someone always knows someone
Who can mend the mishap quick
A patient hand with implements
A Fixer and a fiddlestick

Such a way with tangled muddles
And a feel for twists and turns
Unfold a crease to then release
The Fixer solves and then adjourns

Later when The Fixer’s left
People sit there taking tea
Reflecting on the sheer simplicity
Where much twiddling sets you free

Sunday 16 August 2020

A Passing Rhyme

A Fond Farewell

My friends and foes all in the past
My loved ones always unsurpassed
Those days we spent in joy and fun
Helped heal my soul with golden sun
Those private times that special day
So much was shared in every way
And in that evening’s twilight glow
No more to say just time to go
My burden eased no toil or task
To be remembered is all to ask


Cliff Letts



"In the Netherlands, they have something called the lonely funeral project. If someone dies and there’s no one to claim the body or to attend the funeral, a local poet researches the person, writes a poem about them and reads it at the ceremony."





Thursday 13 August 2020

Rhymes About The Changes

Picture by Kat J - unsplash.com


When everything is changing
Everywhere you look
Where the rules become ridiculous
With nothing by the book

When everything explainable
Becomes a lame excuse
Where the reasons are unreasonable
With little to deduce

When everything brings you dismay
It’s the way its always been
After farms and manufacturing
Became the dominant machine

In a  space of so much everything
So many hoping for a share
Where the likelihood of something good
From those who have is getting rare

Monday 10 August 2020

Me a Tree and a Family

Image
Picture unashamedly nobbled from a tweet
from Albert@OwdAlbert
How did I get to be me?
Where do I sit among ‘We’?
Where do we stretch?
For I’d like to fetch?
From the roots of my ancestor’s tree

How long must it take to reveal?
What so many years can conceal
All the living that passed
By coincidence cast
By the spin of my lineage wheel

As I delve down the alleyways gone
Visiting stones laid upon
Is it likely I’ll see?
Early versions of me
Or a light that was never outshone

In perusing the records of past lives I believe one is looking for clues to the self. However one soon discovers that there are so many differences in previous lives as to hide the real map of there and then.

Picture by anniespratt.com - unsplash.com

Saturday 8 August 2020

Love Letters

Picture by Leighann Blackwood - unsplash.com


She loved to write with a friendly pen
Oozing all sorts of affable words
Like kindly pleasant and cordial
To the tune of sweet hummingbirds

Affectionate pens write in courteous script
Best suited to amiable eyes
Sociable, genial and kindly
With agreeable words to the wise

Her lovable pen delightfully wrote
Sincerely with heart felt accord
To confer and bestow agreeably so
An appraise one could always afford




Sunday 2 August 2020

See You!

Picture by United Nation - unsplash.com


In our ever-decreasing circles
We see Infrequent passers by
Secluded deep in second thoughts
No longer wondering why

Working hard asserting arms-length
Safety first’s headline exclusive
Chinwag’s kept to minimums
As market halls become reclusive

The draw of being out there
Has lost its power of attraction
Consumed by fear of being near
Losing face in mass contraction

One day when we get the edge
Let art and science lead the way
To win the war of things invisible
Then learn again to have our say

Saturday 1 August 2020

Tempo Tantrums

Picture by Byron Johnson - unsplash.com


Ticking clocks a sound reminder
Whisper questions to the air
Why does time in passing
Rarely spread an equal share

Like a fortune wheel selector
Where the pointer comes to rest
Your numbers up when out of luck
To leave your future dispossessed

Until that time when winding up
Take the weather as it comes
We cannot dwell on lucky stars
They do not count in lifeline’s sums

Pendulum’s are primed to swing
Until the driving force depletes
To centre stage and curtain calls
Where before and after meets

In the distant hour a baby's cry
Pulsates with furious heart
Demanding full attendance to
A newly wound and hurried start

The perfect pulse begins again
Not taking sides or second guesses
Driven by a swing momentum
A two-way arc where more or less is




Thursday 30 July 2020

Bought and Sold Out



“Please don’t dial our telephone
We’d rather not reply
Our message telling all who ring
We don’t answer on the fly”

Should you call us anyway
There are some options to select
Unless you spend new money
We’re unlikely to connect

Hearing lots of moans and groans
Because instructions don’t read true
Not our fault if you lack aptitude
Or the wherewithal to do

As time goes by and sales drop-off
When the bottom line’s in doubt
We may fall back on empathy
Should there be a business drought

With year-on-year their profits rising
After-sales not prime concerns
Things we bought leave us distraught
Until we drive down their returns

With every sale now looking tenuous 
Thieves and scammers rule on-line
T’s & Cs may well revert to please
To reassure what’s yours and mine



Business confidence is at an all time low. Customers have felt their trust levels plummeting. Emerging from the world business meltdown will require a return to real customer service.
Response to enquiries positive or negative will require a people-to-people interface.
The old adage "People buy people fist and products second" must become a forerunner
in the battle to encourage and regain sales.

Monday 27 July 2020

The Ballad of Buster Fluster

Picture by Samet Kirtkus -unsplash.com


Not sure at all on what comes next
Buster Fluster’s in a state
On the border of disorderly
He feels he must concatenate 

The links he thinks are tenuous
Though well prepared to stretch a point
Where the pinnacles parenthetical
May connect but disappoint

So in the end we’ll leave it up to him
Buster Fluster’s flap and tizzy
Best not bother muddle further
For right now he’s baffled busy

We wish we could do more for him
Try with all our might to muster
Make his desk more picturesque 
Connecting sanity to Buster

Saturday 25 July 2020

At Large in Camouflage

pixpoetry.com - unsplash.com


Our town is incognito
In mosey mooching masquerade
A swarming droning shopper fling
Well concealed a spend parade

Secretly the racks are scanned
No emotion on display
No one can tell who said that thing
Nor who was that no one can say

Take care my friend when wearing out
A cover guise to save your health
To keep from things that awful brings
In-flight invading breathless stealth

Avoid the state of naked breath
Wear a plain or patterned mask
If seeking things you’d like to buy
Protect yourself before you ask


Wednesday 22 July 2020

Bikerloo Line Hull



Everything is changing fast
The way our journeys flow
We love our car it’s best by far
Whether sunshine rain or snow

We know the ride is turning
No doubt creating traffic spikes
Bus lanes now have all-day rights
Plus much more room for bikes

No longer pedals to the metal
There’ll be wheelies everywhere
Motoring a lesser city thing
A traffic state to trap ensnare

We’ll be needing handle baskets
Clip-on heated weather capes
Two-wheeled trailers lockable
Suiting very shopping traipse

Handlebars will mean that jars
Can be swallowed to excess
Saddled with a drunken rush
As screeching buses make a mess

But all the worlds a cycle
In the summertime it’s prime
Where light fair-weather butterflies
Have no thoughts of wintertime

Let’s not forget it’s healthier
Less fumes less fug distress
As pedal thrust conveyances
Change the ways of NHS