Overdue

Weary body tries

stifling yawning sighs.

Droopy heavy eyes.

 

Needing you.

Craving you.

Longing for you.

 

Yearning to drift

to your soft caress.

Vital reboot

halving my breaths.

 

Glorious sleep,

mysterious deep.

Closest thing to heaven

we’ll ever know.

Doubt

Remember the compliments,

forget the insults.

Nobody’s a bigger critic than you.

Feed your confidence,

starve your doubt

the same way that champions do.

 

Doubt is a beast that dwells within,

a parasite that you must control.

The most important battle to win

is the inner clash with this asshole.

 

Listen closely to your friends,

ignore the trolls who give you grief.

You will beat doubt with confidence

you’ll kick his ass with self belief.

All this time

Her eyes follow him

as he shifts position,

reacting as he reacts to her.

Eyes that jump with joy to meet

and always have

for so many years.

 

She waits til he settles

before she whispers

“It wasn’t too bad, was it Sam?”

“Well, the first twenty five years

were touch and go,but

the next twenty five made up for it.”

 

She coughs a weak laugh

he touches her hand.

The merest touch

but it’s enough

for powerful emotion

on a well run course.

 

She smiles softly

then closes her eyes.

He’ll never make her laugh again.

He feels her hand cool

as she drifts away from him

after all this time.

William Butler Yeats

“An aged man is but a paltry thing,

a tattered coat upon a stick unless

soul clap it’s hands and sing and louder sing…”

 

Yeats caught my attention when I was young

and he sailing to Byzantium.

His skill with words, the power of his feelings,

his imagery, all hugely appealing.

 

The pride of Ireland, a national treasure,

a gifted one by which greats can measure

how they compare to my fellow Irish man,

this monument we fly a flag on.

 

So thanks WB for these feelings inside,

for instilling this feeling of national pride,

for making me feel a fraction more worthy

‘cos you are from the same place as me.

 

 

Need

Barely noticeable

but beyond significance.

Five frail fingers

tiny and scared

needing me so.

Your hand in mine.

Time to act

For a moment, he thought he heard

a woman’s voice…

the wisdom of the ages…

whispering up from the chasms of the earth.

A chill scurried up his clammy spine

as he caught- real or imagined

– a faint air of foreboding.

A vaguely perceived warning

like words in the wind

that exist in the mind.

Self doubts arguement

to a tricky decision.

 

His finger hovered still,

an eternity now.

Shaky handed second guessing

and it’s invisible barrier of indecision.

Courage to act,

courage to do.

His vow to himself.

His reason.

His logic.

“This must be!”

He pushed the send button

and it was done.

Nice proverbs

Be nice to your parents,

one day they’ll be gone forever.

Be nice to your siblings,

they’re the ones most likely

to stick with you

through thick and thin.

 

It’s nice to be important,

but it’s more important┬áto be nice.

Be nice to people on the way up the ladder,

they’re the ones you’ll need the most

on your way down.

Have a nice day!

Not before the cat

Nine years and five days ago

a glorious gift from two great parents

brought digital music to my world

with an ipod- best ever birthday present.

 

A true marvel of the modern day.

More sounds than I thought I’d have ever.

Portable, versatile, user friendly,

robust and sturdy- could last forever!

 

I love using playlists, for tasks and moods,

creating and shaping them from day one,

for playing darts or preparing food,

focused for writing or dancing for fun.

 

The ipod is my most valued possession,

in crisis the first to which I would go,

if in the house a fire was raging,

after I’d thrown the cat out the window.

Screengrab sonnet

Gently rustling leaves

dance delightfully

as if there’s a sneeze

tickling the beech tree.

 

The playful wink of the rising sun

finds me in the same position

as when the frown of the setting one

departed for dark abandon.

 

I make for a dishevelled sight,

stiff and cramped, creaky an’ all,

but I’ve been writing poetry all night

and inside I’m feeling ten feet tall.

 

Gratitude, respect and admiration

for this amazing marathon.

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