'Tasters' - extracts from the book:-

A Variety of Verse

Now let the fun begin.....

From the start:-

A poem of recent sad times:-

The Wettest Drought on Record

The words of this poem are self-explanatory. It was written on Boxing Day 2012 when it was still raining hard, as it had been nearly all Christmas. It really had been an extremely wet and horrid year, described officially as the wettest for over a hundred years, which I suspect meant since records began. The title is from a joke that swept the land, with drought orders from our hopeless authorities still being threatened as the rains tumbled down - but it was a joke that came back to haunt us.

My own family was lucky, with the water that ran down the lane past our farm being hardly a deluge, and even then having the good manners to continue past and not flow into our driveway. But others were not so lucky, and our thoughts were with the many thousands of people whose homes were flooded - some of them two or three times over.

'Twas the wettest drought on record -

Words spoken far and wide;

In the towns and in the cities,

And in the countryside.

When we went in the flash of a moment

From a threatened hosepipe ban

To flooded streets and shops and homes

Where the swollen rivers ran.

Roads collapsed and bridges fell

And railways stopped their trains

And people sobbed and wrung their hands

At the ever falling rains.

For the deluge was remorseless,

As it poured into homes in force

Sweeping folks' prized possessions

Before a raging water course.

Some people did their shopping

In a canoe or inflatable boat,

And some drivers learnt the hard way

That even a car can float.

Whilst the farmer homeward plods

His wet and weary way

As his crops rot in the fields -

He's short of silage and of hay.

Yes 'twas the wettest drought on record -

Two thousand and twelve, they say,

When the rains poured down for ever,

And swept so many dreams away.

*****

A poem of old age:-

Epitaph

I was honoured that this next poem made runner-up in the prestigious Mensa 'Poet of the Year' Competition in 2012, with the judges describing it as "Evocative and Moving"

The things I loved as a boy

Are old now;

The paths I made in my youth

Are old now;

Even you

Are old.

The skies always blue above

Are grey now;

The blacks and whites of desire

Are grey now;

Even you

Are grey.

The meadows I knew in my childhood

Are gone now;

The people I loved long ago

Are gone now;

Even you

Are gone.

*****

A poem of nostaglia:-

The Old Farm

No dog no cat no this or that

Lives in the old farm now;

Locked and barred like the old farm yard -

No pig, no hen, no cow.

But if it happens to be that you have a key

To open up the door

The hinges will creak as you take a peek,

At all that has gone before.

Then as you stand and blink you may well think

Of the lives which that these walls have seen

With death and birth and sadness and mirth

And things which might have been.

A ghost or two might remember you

As you enter the house at last

But through the light and shades it's the dark that pervades

With dumb echoes of the past.

And as you stand in the dark can you hear a dog bark

In a call from a life beyond?

Or the neigh of a horse - also long dead of course

Of whom somebody once was so fond?

Those farming ways in long ago days

With no automated machines

A horse and a plough and the ploughman's know-how

Were every-day countryside scenes.

Life on the farm though it did you no harm

Was hard on a long ago morn

And the house recalls when those tired working men

Were up at the first light of dawn.

The long gone working lives of husbands and wives

And children who toiled for their keep;

As you gaze through the gloom into each cob-webbed room

At the ghosts who now lie asleep.

But now you've had enough and it's been very tough

Seeing where you saw your first light of day;

So with memories of yore you re-lock the front door,

And walk sadly, and slowly away.

*****

A poem for children:-

Jonathon Joseph Finkledump

For 3 - 6 year olds

Jonathon Joseph Finkledump -

Gosh he was a silly chump -

He put his shoes on back to front

And walked backwards to his school.

He thought that Mummy was always wrong,

That long was short and short was long,

And wriggly worms could sing a song

And a piggy was a mule.

He thought that fish lived in the trees,

That slimy snails were humming bees,

And birds lived underneath the seas,

And that hot was always cool.

He thought that horses would say 'moo',

And cows say 'cock-a-doodle-do',

And little lambs 'too-wit-too-woo',

And a thistle was a stool.

He didn't know his left from right,

Thought he used his nose to take a bite,

And that the sun shone all the night

And a sandpit was a pool.

Yes Jonathon Joseph Finkledump -

Gosh he was a silly chump -

Who put his shoes on back to front

And walked backwards to his school.

*****

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