Once a Knight, any Knight?

Send me a knight in shining armour,

Astride a shiny chestnut steed. 

Send me a knight in shining armour,

To pander and cosset me.

To massage my feet, oh how I'd love him!

Send me a knight in hardworn 

armour

- as long as he is not dim.

Send me a knight, or just a man,

Who can see me for who I am.

A man of steel, of iron will,

To withstand my madness and love me still.

Send me a man of strength and honour,

Of humour, character and fortitude.

(Sigh.) Just send me a man in jeans and t shirt,

As long as he brings with him, Chinese food.

You or me?

A physical attraction, mind over matter.

A look at you from a younger me,

A fusion of what I missed. 

Strange. 

Foreign. 

Alien to my life, 

You intrigue, confuse, recoil;

This isn't me.

Sadness of my past

Covering and coping

Smiling and joking 

Playing the role

Fear wouldn't let me change.

Maybe a chrysalis, cocoon

Or moth I fly, 

Personally I don't think a butterfly.

Confused, regretful of life,

Of life I missed

Chances. oh chances, 

Did they exist?

Or was I just trapped by life,

By marriage, my lack of wealth

Into a life of nothingness.

Was it all just a front?

And now?

I shrug, what is now?

A reflection of the past

A reflection of the now,

Or just a fragment,

A small particle of the future.

An atom

An amoeba.

One moment

One cell

Of an unknown future.

And the last. 4 better late than never!

28/04/15

Once upon a time as I opened a book,

Humpty Dumpty was marrying the cook.

All the kings horses and all the kings men,

Were a guard of honour along with three French hens.

Little Miss Muffet had sold on her tuffet, 

Making a few quid on eBay,

And started a small business

Selling her curds and whey.

Old Jack and Jill had a right rough time

After the kids had grown up.

His knock on the head made his memory pants

And Jill threatened to divorce.

29/04/15

What do you think of

When the pages turn in life?

Is that why you left?

30/04/15

Walking down the street

A girl staring at her feet

Her hands pointing forward 

Joined under breast.

She senses rather than sees me

As I walk in her direction

Her hair frames her face and hangs

Hiding her perception,

Disabling sight in any direction,

Other than down.

She fails to notice bluebells 

Swaying in the breeze,

Or the lonely daffodil just by the tree.

Not even the car that stopped

To ask for number thirty three.

She keeps looking down 

Like a forlorn clown.

Her thumbs are working frantic

At the only thing she sees...

Her phone.

Every morning she walks by

School blouse, skirt and tie; texting.

Missing the world race by,

Hunched before her time,

Losing her life: press SEND.

31/04/15

Summers day sweet scent

Sun kissing each cheek gently

Smile on rosy lips.

A special one

almost there

not always easy to write up the poems that you have scribbled down. nor edit them [so apologies!] 

18/04/2015

Step outside and squint

Sun beams from a clear blue sky

I need it to reach my skin

So pale

Withdrawn

Hermit like

Always indoors

Seeing not feeling

The evening comes

I feel the last rays

Ebb and flow

Ebb and flow

19/04/2015

I saw your face today

Smiling, chatting away.

I dropped back in time

To days when that face was mine.

I knew every contour

Every wild hair

The twinkle in your eyes

When I was near.

You were the man of my dreams

My soulmate

My friend

My love.

At times we didn’t need to speak

To know we were near was enough

I saw your face today.

Smiling, chatting away

Not knowing I was looking on

My heart didn’t leap

Which felt really strange

It always had, back in the day.

The days of love now long gone

You were just a stranger

Chatting away,

With straggy grey hair.

I relaxed. I didn’t care.

20/04/2015

Icing on the cake

Bride and groom already gone off

To their pastures new

21/04/2015

I was ready.

A look in the mirror to double check

Check. Check

I grabbed my keys and took a deep breath.

In. Out.

It was now or never.

I pushed through the door

Familiar feelings from long ago.

People busy in their own space

Didn’t see me standing there

Surveying the place.

And so it began.

A gentle walk to warm up,

Then a hill and higher still.

The sweat was trickling down my face,

Sip some water:

It wasn’t a race.

Cross trainer called

It was soon too much.

The knee groaned and the hip yelled STOP!

I eased off and went to the weights,

Pushing knobs in

Pulling knobs out.

Breathing out.

Breathing in.

Crunches ended my new sin.

After a two year break,

I was back in the gym.

22/04/2015

Roll up, roll up for it’s soon May day,

a day of fun for families to be one.

Come along to the Village Green,

well, Headless Cross Orchard

to you and me.

Bring your scarecrow in Star Wars dress

and have it judged by the Mayor [or is it Mayoress?]

Come play on the human fruit machine,

all are welcome on the Village Green.

The stomp and pride of heavy horses,

Brass band playing through the orchard.

Eat your fill of soup and bread,

The Jedi’s are concocting a light sabre spread.

Buy some trinkets from the stalls around,

jams and chutneys and garlic pickle abound.

Paintings and home crafted object d’art

Whittling wood and even a tipple from a jar.

As you watch the ribbons weaving

around the Maypole with the sun gleaming.

Roll up, roll up, come and play,

May the fourth be with you for its May Day.

23/04/2015

Ribbons dangling free

Awaiting brownies to weave

May day tradition

24/04/3015

Feel your arm around me.

Comfort. Warmth.

Allow me safety as I sleep

to feel cherished,

drifting into the deep of sleep.

Protected from the wolf

that snarls at my door.

Protect me from the demon

that comes when I sleep,

that arm around me.

That slayer of the deep

battling my demons

only known when I am asleep.

Brandishing sword and

impenetrable guard.

Protector,

defender,

saviour of my peace.

25/04/2014

Earth’s destabilisation brings about destruction

In the most violent and tragic way; earthquake.

Buildings tumble crushing the innocent.

Buried beneath imploded structures.

Many survived, others entombed,

A crypt of holy bricks

Shrouded in dust.

26/04/2015

The mountain quivered on the edge

Over laden and burdened with snow and rocks

Dislodging climbers and sherpas alike

To tumble thousands of feet below.

There lies the bodies of the new

Cheek by jowl with the bodies of old.

Entombed in the snow.

We think of them now.

What can you do in 15 minutes?

You know the first thing people are going to say is sex: more than once. But I'm not thinking that at all ( novel I know).

Really, think about it, what can you do in 15 minutes?

Change a bed

Write the shopping list

Order a take away

Now the lawn

Cook dinner

What? Nah not feasible say so many people hence why they plump for the take away option. Of course you can! Nah, we can't afford to cook from scratch. Really? Yeah, take away is much cheaper. You think?

I've never fallen for this crap, Infact it's always annoyed the hell out of me. 

I'm a fussy eater. I'm not mad on red meat and hate English vegetables. So the Sunday roast type meal isn't really my thing. What I do like to do is eat food that's full of flavour that's cooked quickly.

I mean, how does this look? Stirs fried veg with quorn 'chicken' and some chorizo on a bed of spaghetti. How much would that cost in a restaurant? Probably around a tenner. How long does it take to cook? Well, according to the spaghetti, 12 minutes. Whack on the pasta, stir fry the veg and any meat you want to have and bingo, a healthy tasty meal in less than 15 minutes that costs about £1.50-£3 per person.

Now what was that excuse about not being able to afford good food?

Almost up to date!

14/04/2014

Shall I compare thee to a mobile App,

select your QR code

download your data

to see if meeting you would be sweeter?

Swipe left, swipe right

onto the next

no words spoken,

was it the eyes or the legs?

Two months now we’ve been mobile dating

Whatsapp, text, messenger relating.

with emoticons we bare our soul

not a spoken word or a hint of meeting

15/04/2015

I’m still pondering performance words

entertaining the masses: well a select few.

It’s an art, exploration not a potential installation,

it’s something pure,

but, not necessarily clean.

The language flies

Some f-ing and c-ing here and there

spat out loud in boastful manner

[I don’t mind but I’m not keen]

Is it possible to keep it clean

to express life in the raw

without expletives spouting forth?

Can it be done with tone alone

expressing anger, passion,

death in its throws?

A pause. Deep breath. A scream.

As effective as the f-ing c?

16/04/2015

Smug.

The feeling of satisfaction as the boiler is switched off,

calculating early savings.

“ It was at least another month, this time last year,” said Bert,

hitching up his trousers,

“I remember we had that frost

before yer mother was back from Skeggy.

Do you remember our Nellie?”

Nellie rocks in her chair,

specs balanced on nose.

Knit one, pearl one, clickety clack

the jumper slowly grows.

“Aye Bert it was but fetch in the coal,

it’ll be chilly now the radiators cold.”

Knit one, pearl one, “oh bother”

a dropped stitch runs into a ladder.

Bert shuffles through the kitchen to do as he’s bid.

17/04/2015

Can a look be love

That first flutter of sweetness

Or just a little itch?