Wild Inside

“Stay home” they said, as the birds began to nest
So we tidied our homes and made up beds to rest
Schools closed their doors, as the chicks began to tweet
So we listened to advice, and welcomed home our fleet
Children at our feet, as the birds were feeding well
So we fed our young and made their bellies swell
“Home school” they said, as the chicks prepared to fly
So we taught best we could, not teachers but we try
We’ll soon be free to roam, as we see chicks leave and glide
You’re not so different little birds, we’re all a little wild inside.

Two Sides of the Story – A Reverse Poem

Two Sides of the Story

I am not worried
and I refuse to believe that
Covid-19 will change my future
I realise this may be a shock, but
we can’t improve the situation
is untrue
we can get over this
I know what we need right now
because
economy
is more important than
a small amount of lives being saved
I can’t say this enough:
things have been worse
we are being told
this is reality
through international coverage
and politicians too
the media tells me
this virus is here to stay
this will not happen.
I want to live a life of contentment.
in the future
this virus will be forgotten
I wish people would stop saying
my hopes and dreams have diminished
it is evident that
the world will recover from this in my lifetime.
it is foolish to presume that
I am worried

NOW READ UPWARDS 

This is 2020


Constantly consumed by containing this beast.
Contagious coughing unleashed from the east.
Calling off concerts, and companies closed.
Controlling the virus, confinement imposed.
Collective conformance to curtail the spread.
Commuting confined to Key Workers they said.
Compulsively cleaning and masks on your face.
Can’t call on or cuddle those outside your place.
Confusion, concealment and contrasting views.
Collapsing economy again on the news.
Collusion, commotion, conflicting advice.
Complaining and cusswords ‘cause nothing’s concise.
Cremations increasing, Care Homes cannot cope
Calling for caution, you’ll listen – they hope.
Clambering clumsily, crowds out aplenty.
Catastrophic conclusion? This is 2020.

Saltcoats Shore – a Poem

Lather oan suncream, throw oan the summer claes.
Saltcoats beach is waitin, I’m away to catch some rays.
I’ll daunter past the harbour and remember years ago.
Goin doon to see the boats, wi’ my grannies brother Joe.
I puzzle at the sun dial, it’s an hour oot a think
Go by the crowd wi’ bevvy, their taps aff lookin pink
Young ‘yins oot there climbing boulders, but the tide is comin’ in
Was worried for the eejits but they’re nearing shore agin
Every generation does it, navigating Saltcoats sea
As pretty as oor waater is, be careful or you’ll dee
Roon the curve I’ll wander, past the auld bowling alley
I remember headin’ up the stairs for Karaoke and a swally
It’s the pictures and the softplay noo, and it’s quiet there the day
For everybody’s doon the beach on this fine sunny day.
New tenants in the boatin’ pond, swans floatin happily
I gaze out at the Warrior, sleeping in tranquillity
Every place the world oo’er has a view they cherish most
But there’s nowhere quite as precious as this view alang oor coast
My heart skips a little beat as I step on Saltcoats shore
Aye, it’s not 1960’s busy, but it means I love it more
There’s weans oot there collecting treasures, shells and creatures from the sand
Crowds dookin in the shallow, I pass by castles lookin’ grand
I listen to the whooshing waves and gulls flying overheid
A waft of Melbourne chippy has them hopeful for a feed
I settle doon and rest now, dig my taes in, let them toast
And I thank the world for this fine place, my Saltcoats by the coast.
The Sleeping Warrior is the profile of the Isle of Arran, as it looks like a giant laying on his back. Its the view from Saltcoats beach.
I feel so grateful for living in Saltcoats. We have a beautiful uncrowded beach with the stunning view of the Isle of Arran on the horizon. I’ve written this is in local Scottishsatcoats

Am I Enough?

This is my first attempt at a Reversal poem.  It is a poem that you read in the normal way, and then afterwards you read it up the way to reverse the meaning. It was fun to write.

 

AM I ENOUGH?
I am not enough
And I refuse to believe that
I am worthy of love
I realise this may be a shock, but
Love yourself
Is a lie
You must be perfect to be worthy
I know that I am justified in what I say
because
Perfection
Is more important than
Being enough
I tell you this:
Once upon a time
A woman was happy with herself
– not reflective of reality
through Instagram and social media
Experts show me
Photoshopped images
I do conclude that
I want to live a life of contentment
In the future,
I hate the way I look
No longer can it be said
I’m happy being me
It is evident that
I need more
It is foolish to presume that
I am enough
And all of this will come true unless we reverse it.

Confusing Messages

Advice for the Young Child

Shhh.

Not now, just wait.

I’m trying to work

and I can’t think straight.

 

 

Careful!

Don’t drop that cup.

You’ll spill all the milk –

I’ll have to clean up

 

 

Stop!

Don’t run ahead.

You’re too fast for me,

walk slower instead.

 

 

Gentle!

You play too rough.

It’ll all end in tears

and I’ve had enough.

 

 

Attention!

You’re dreaming again!

You won’t pass that test;

what will you do then?

Advice for the Adolescent

Speak!

Please use your voice.

Give your opinion

or you won’t get a choice.

 

 

Relax!

Stop stressing out.

Must live a little;

stop living in doubt.

 

 

Run!

Pick up your speed!

You must try harder

or you won’t take the lead.

 

 

Fight!

Don’t be their prey.

If you don’t fight back

you’ll just fade away.

 

 

Imagine

where you could go.

If you never dream

then you’ll never know.

In trying to nurture our children and educate them in the ways of the world, we sometimes confuse them. I know I’m guilty of doing this. Perhaps taking a step back and doing nothing is the right thing to do.

Back to School Blues

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Sharpening his pencils;
ironing his clothes.
Wishing it would slow down –
how fast the time all goes.

Packing up his schoolbag;
new shoes up a size.
Seeing that he’s growing –
mammy wipes her eyes.

Every year he’s moving,
another step away.
Feels his hands in hers now –
he’s still a child today.

Trousers getting longer;
time can’t be ignored.
Although she wants him closer –
life’s there to be explored.

 

The School Bag

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The School Bag

A new school bag
He’s forced to own
Such a drag
Choices thrown

Hauling behind
A weight on back
The daily grind
His worries stack

World on shoulders
Pressure is high
He carries boulders
So cannot fly

A bag of work
and evenings in
Where failures lurk
It’s wearing thin

No longer free
He’s feeling glum
Just wants to flee
So cries for mum

 

 

 

(Un)helpful Advice

 

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I have friends with children who often come across overly-critical relatives/friends/random folk in shops,  who believe their advice is best.  I’m sure those people mean well, but many friends have felt like failures because they feel they aren’t doing the parenting thing right.  Here is a poem to reflect this scenario:

 

No bottles love, the breast is best!

When baby sleeps, you must have rest.

He’s only small, don’t let him cry.

You must ensure that nappy’s dry.

No wipes on him, his skin in new.

You can’t do that, I thought you knew.

Not walking yet, I’d check that out.

Oh naughty boy, he must not shout!

You need to clean, house is a mess

You must calm down, he’ll sense your stress

He bit again, need that to stop.

Look there he goes, another strop!

When back to work, you must be bored?

You’ve fancy stuff you can’t afford.

Her down the road, she’s never home.

Her mother’s got those kids alone.

You’re such hard work, what’s wrong with you?

I’m not allowed to say what’s true!

Not critical, just good advice!

You’ve hurt me now, you’re never nice!