my father's funeral too.
lp
Twas the night before
‘Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone,
In a one bedroom house made of plaster and stone.
I had come down the chimney with presents to give,
And to see just who in this house did live.
I looked all about, a strange sight I did see,
No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stocking by mantle, just boots filled with sand,
On the wall hung pictures of far distant land.
With medals and badges, awards of all kinds,
A sober thought came through my mind.
For this house was different, it was dark and dreary,
I found the house of a soldier, once I could see clearly.
The soldier lay sleeping, silent, alone,
Curled up on the floor in this one bedroom home.
The face was so gentle, the room in such disorder
Not how I pictured a British Soldier.
Was this the hero of whom I’d just read,
Curled up on a poncho , the floor for a bed.
I realized the families that I saw this night,
Owed their lives to these soldiers who were willing to fight.
Soon round the world, children would play,
And grown ups would celebrate a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom each month of the year,
Because of the soldiers, like the one lying here.
I couldn’t help wonder how many lay alone,
On a cold Christmas Eve in a land far from home.
The very thought brought a tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees and started to cry.
The soldier awakened and I heard a rough voice,
“Santa don’t cry, this life is my choice.
I fight for freedom, I don’t ask for more,
My life is my God, my country, my
The soldier rolled over and drifted to sleep,
I couldn’t control it, I continued to weep.
I kept watch for hours, so silent and still,
And we both shivered from the cold nights chill.
I didn’t want to leave on that cold dark night,
This guardian of honour so willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over, with a voice soft and pure,
Whispered “Carry on Santa, its Christmas Day – all is
One look at my watch,
I knew he was right.
“Merry Christmas my friend,
and to all good
Anon
A Christmas tree! A Christmas tree!
With dark green needled memories
Of childhood dreams and mysteries
Wrapped present-like in front of me.
A Christmas tree! A Christmas tree!
I glimpse a past wherein i see
The child that then grew into me
Not forward fast but haltingly.
A Christmas tree! A Christmas tree!
A time for being with family
A time that's gone so fleetingly
Yet lives for always deep in me.
A Christmas tree! A Christmas tree!
When twelfth night comes whole hauntingly
One lingered look and then i see
No Christmas tree where it would be.
A Christmas tree! A Christmas tree!
With feelings now felt tearfully
No partner, no kids surrounding me
No corner in my house to see
The magic of that Christmas tree.
roses are red
violets are blue
in the dead of night
I fell for you.
roses are red
violets are blue
in that bed
your so blue
roses are red
violets are blue
only seven you said
I'm full of goooo
dont really do poetry, but in the spirit of the thread and my new status, what do u think to this?
Oh to be two years younger
and one inch longer,
To have lost my fear
of you my dear
To show up proud,
and be allowed,
to see your eyes,
not for a prize, or to do with size,
Just to start with talk,
Maybe take a walk?
See how we feel,
Not just turn the wheel.
Your partner seems so full of lines,
I bet that we could have good times.
A handsome fellah, I can see,
We could have a pint us three.
The game we play is fraught I know,
But I for one am in the know.
Respect and honesty is first,
Though for you, it is I thirst.
Your man is safe from doubt from me,
I have no designs on you, you see,
To take you from your ethereal plain
And never would I cause him pain.
But one night of pleasure spent with you,
Would make all of my desires come true.
The morning cold, I’d go away
Wish you goodbye and say
What lovely people.
"It's Christmas Day, All Is Secure."
T'was The Night Before Christmas, He Lived All Alone, In A One Bedroom
House, Made Of Plaster And Stone.
I Had Come Down The Chimney, With Presents To Give, And To See Just Who,
In
This Home Did Live.
I Looked All About, A Strange Sight I Did See, No Tinsel, No Presents,
Not
Even A Tree.
No Stocking By The Mantle, Just Boots Filled With Sand, On The Wall Hung
Pictures, Of Far Distant Lands.
With Medals And Badges, Awards Of All Kinds, A Sober Thought, Came
Through
My Mind.
For This House Was Different, It Was Dark And Dreary, I Found The Home
Of A
Soldier, Once I Could See Clearly.
The Soldier Lay Sleeping, Silent, Alone, Curled Up On The Floor, In This
One Bedroom Home.
The Face Was So Gentle, The Room In Such Disorder, Not How I Pictured, A
lone British Soldier.
Was This The Hero, Of Whom I'd Just Read?, Curled Up On A Poncho, The
Floor
For A Bed?
I Realized The Families, That I Saw This Night, Owed Their Lives To
These
Soldiers, Who Were Willing To Fight.
Soon Round The World, The Children Would Play, And Grownups Would
Celebrate, A Bright Christmas Day.
They All Enjoyed Freedom, Each Month Of The Year, Because Of The
Soldiers,
Like The One Lying Here.
I Couldn't Help Wonder, How Many Alone, On A Cold Christmas Eve, In A
Land
Far From Home.
The Very Thought Brought, A Tear To My Eye, I Dropped To My Knees, And
Started To Cry.
The Soldier Awakened, And I Heard A Rough Voice, "Santa, Don't Cry, This
Life Is My Choice.
I Fight For Freedom, I Don't Ask For More, My Life Is My God, My
Country,
My Corps."
The Soldier Rolled Over, And Drifted To Sleep, I Couldn't Control It, I
Continued To Weep.
I Kept Watch For Hours, So Silent And Still, And We Both sat & Shivered,
From The Cold Night's Chill.
I Didn't Want To Leave, On That Cold, Dark Night, This Guardian Of
Honor,
So Willing To Fight.
Then The Soldier Rolled Over, With A Voice, Soft And Pure, Whispered,
"Carry On Santa, It's Christmas Day, All Is Secure."
One Look At My Watch, And I Knew He Was Right, "Merry Christmas My
Friend,
And To All A Good Night."
Author Unknown.
What light slips pass
yonder window
tis the west
and Sassy the Seren.
Pale she seems
far a way Wales
still she warms
my poor heart.
Taking a Ride.
Driving in my convertible
getting hot and steamy
I pull back the hood
revelling firm pink upholstery.
Looking for a place to park
just a little tight
I worked the gear stick
back and forward.
Then the rains broke
my hood pulled over
bright upholstery
we sat, the road flooded.
A beauty passing,
almost missed,
so little time to find in fading light.
Soft like mist.
Touched but not felt.
artificer
I miss you :cry:
He wanted his pleasure and was ready to pay
To get what he wanted and do it his way
He then booked 30 minutes with a girl who looked nice
But she was a let down, not worth half the price
Even though she was chatty and looks wise not bad
She was not as attractive as the photos she had
He found the fun sterile, although she gave head
A mechanical shag, she was useless in bed
So he tried for another, he thought that he might
Another named girl from another website
She sounded perfect, the write-up was good
This time he hoped she’d perform like she should
He made the arrangements and withdrew the cash
But when he arrived he just wanted to dash
He should have known better and expected bad luck
T’was the same bloody woman and same lousy fuck
Awakened by Dawn's warmth
I rise again
enthusiastic
to enter new day.
One poem I have recently come to love: written after 7/7/2005 in memory of one of the people who died.
You can’t have departed
The imprints of your breath
still adorn the beautiful colours of the flower bed
and the imprints of your feet,
on the threshold of the house,
on the stairs,
on the floral patterns of the carpet,
still gaze at me -
bewildered.
A sound is rising
from our broken hearts.
Where are you? Where are you?
You have lent your smiles to the flowers.
The entire house
is the embodiment of your life.
Who says you are no more?
How can you not be?
O, incarnation of kindness,
O, my dearest angel,
hold our hands;
we are lonely.
Shdab Vajdi
Deep dark mud
lowly place
dirty water
pure white lotus.
As soft winds sweep away the days
I look back on life through a haze.
Remember playgrounds, parks and friends,
In childlike gaze that never ends.
The laughter in a game of catch,
Shall memory ever attach...
To innocence in youthful eyes,
Catching the ball to Dad's surprise.
I recall my first bike, first wreck,
Who picked me up, said, "What the heck?"
Convinced me to give one more try,
While, knees skinned, I forgot to cry.
Just the joy knowing he was there,
Making him proud my only care.
There was nothing I couldn't do,
My heart held fast that to be true.
Though teenage years were kind of rough,
I sure wasn't too big or tough.
You taught me to defend what's right
And never back down from a fight.
So I learned the hard way to stand,
Still, with each lump, I found your hand.
Drawing from you an inner strength,
And stubborn pride of equal length.
But there the line of fate was drawn,
As though I blinked and you were gone.
I found myself facing the sun,
Not man, not boy, fatherless, one.
Eyes blinded by a void inside,
I could not live that you had died.
Alas finding it to be true,
I could do nothing without you.
Please, Dad, today just hear my call,
I'm sorry that I dropped the ball.
My life is wrecked, my knees are skinned,
My emotions undisciplined.
I can't get up although I try,
Please don't be upset if I cry.
Though I can't fight what I can't see,
Please, Dad, say you're still proud of me.
nothing has come up xx