Poet's Corner

Happy New Year Daffy.

One of the best inspirational poems I have ever read.

Changed the gender and sent it off to our daughter and granddaughter who also has a baby girl.

Put a copy in my Pandoras box of memories

What you have to look forward to in 2011

'Twas the day after Christmas, and all through the house,
Every creature was hurtin', even the mouse.
The toys were all broken, their batteries dead;
Santa passed out, with some ice on his head.
Wrapping and ribbons just covered the floor,
While upstairs the family continued to snore.
And I in my T-shirt, new Reeboks and jeans,
Went into the kitchen and started to clean.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the sink to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the curtains, and threw up the sash.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a little white truck, with an oversized mirror.
The driver was smiling, so lively and grand;
The patch on his jacket said, "U.S. POSTMAN."
With a handful of bills, he grinned like a fox,
Then quickly he stuffed them into our mailbox.
Bill after bill, after bill, they still came,
Whistling and shouting he called them by name:
"Now Target, now Best Buy, now Penny's and Sears.
There's eBay and Amazon - you're up to your ears!
To the tip of your limit, every store, every mall,
Now charge away - charge away - charge away all!"
He whooped and he whistled as he finished his work.
He filled up the box, then turned with a jerk.
He sprang to his truck and he drove down the road,
Driving much faster with just half a load.
Then, I heard him exclaim with great holiday cheer,
"Enjoy what you got . . . you'll be paying all year!"_________________

Glad to be of service Wuzfuz...........

My best wishes to you and yours!

Your last poem is going to ring true with many people DaffyD!!!

So much for Christmas "cheer"!

Time is such an abstract thing
It flies on by, yet has no wing
I like it best in early morning
When the sun is up and a new day dawning.....


A New Day Dawning


Drink deep the sweet cold mountain air
Feast thine eye upon the new born sun
Watch it rise 'ere its burning glory
Warms the earth for everyone.


Face the tasks that have been allotted
Awake thy bretheren from their sleep
Lead them to those pastures promised
For thou art the shepherd, and they, the sheep.

Be upstanding in thine image
Let not the children see thee cry
Hide the salted tear that formeth
Formeth in thine weary eye.

Hide from them thy daily burden
Allow them all to laugh and play
For soon, too soon, their youth will vanish
That burden will be theirs someday.

Shake the dew from yonder flower,
Watch its unladen head, unbow.
Smell its fragrance at dawn's early hour
Remove thy scowl, light up thy brow.

Pray that the bounty in the land around thee
Will continue for years to flow,
Ask of Him His daily blessing
And may thou in His likeness grow.


Daffyd

As we move into a New Year and the cheering and partying die down we should spare a thought for those less fortunate than ourselves.......

ONLY THE LONELY

Only the lonely
Can hear a heart beat
In an empty room.
Only the lonely
Look for a kindly light
To pierce their darkest gloom.
Only the lonely
Know the taste of tears
As they reminisce without a friend.
Only the lonely
Endure those silent days
That never seem to end.

Only the lonely
Know that emptiness
Can fill a broken heart.
Only the lonely
Never say goodbye
For from whom shall they depart?
Only the lonely
Speak with a silent voice
Of their heartaches and their fear
Only the lonely
Converse with immobile lips
For who else is there to hear?

Only the lonely
Stare into the flickering flames
With their thoughts of long ago.
Only the lonely
Know of the daily pain
That they must undergo.
Only the lonely
Dream of another's arms
And the warmth of an embrace
Only the lonely
Pray for that welcome reprieve
And the sight of a friendly face.

Daffyd this one brought me to tears. I can relate personally to much of it.

Thank you for sharing such a sad but beautifully worded poem.

My Baltic Adventure

I felt it was time to leave these shores
And explore the lands to the North
So I booked myself a Baltic cruise
And I got my money's worth.
I set sail from the Southampton port
The skies were an azure blue
Bearing left through the English channel
Then heading North on the compass true.

Kristiansand was my first port of call
I was greeted by a local moose
Albeit stuffed, and set on wheels
Aye, chained so it would not get loose.
The scenery, the architecture,
The history turned ones head
It was a place I was loathe to leave
But my itinerary pointed North instead.

Aye North to Copenhagen
I saw the Mermaid on the rock
Further on to the port of Helsinki
And another fabulous place to dock.
Still further North to St Petersburg
A magnificent Russian port
Catherine Palace in all its splendour
Ensured you weren't sold short.

One cannot relate the Baltic tale
By omitting ports of call
So full astern me hearties
And I'll try and include them all.
Leaving Copenhagen and the Mermaid on the rock
We headed north to Visby, an island paradise
A force six gale sprang up
And the swell was not very nice.

We could not berth alongside
Nor use tenders to the shore
So we just had to ride out the sudden storm
We couldn't do much more.
This cruising crowd are hardy
And they enjoy this holiday time at sea
There was little sign of mal-de-mer
We all turned up for tea.

We set a course for Stockholm
And arrived there in great style
With a Swedish band to greet us..... ...
Tour buses lined up, in single file.
A truly wonderful city
Seen on a bright warm sunny day
Wide boulevards and great green parks
Shop assistants, who had a smile and winning way.

I touched upon Helsinki.................
A favourite port of mine
I visited the Olympic Stadium
And sampled a wee glass of the local wine.......
A photographic paradise
Architecture to stun the mind
Finland is a treasure trove
Any fault was hard to find.

St Petersburg, the jewel in the crown
Deserves an accolade of its own
For plain words cannot describe
The splendour that was shown.
The palaces, the massive public squares
The churches, tall spires and golden dome...........
The bridges and the waterways
This is what we came to see, this is why we all left home.

Little Lithuania offered us a newly opened port
Klaipeda, new on the tourist trail
The wooden structured buildings
Tried to impress, they didn't fail
So different from the grandeur
We had encountered upon this cruise
We were met by dancing schoolchildren
Who had been sent to us amuse............

Then we set sail for England
Southampton, and then onward home
Having cruised the Baltic
No more this year to roam.

Daffyd

THE ROCK THAT WEPT

I watched the saline droplets well up into his eyes
Spill over and run freely to my great surprise.
He was my hero my rock, my friend
And to my daily needs he'd tend
What disaster could cause such grief
His face was a mask of disbelief
I later learned to my dismay
His final visit was to be today.

My health prognosis was never good
The medics had done all they could
I'd lived my life in a metal shroud
He was my Dad and I was proud
That he called me son and stroked my head
He held my hand and sat by my bed
Alas those tears never before seen
Were there when they turned off my machine

Fear not dear friend 'tis but a poem
A darkened verse as my mind did roam
Inspired by a care worn sigh
When someone asked if a man could cry
Men are beings wherein emotions dwell
And experience life in every cell
To control ones feelings does not mean
That one is bereft, because they're not seen
A weakness is ascribed to tears
So man has learned to hide his fears
Instead he cries within his being
And grieves without the whole world seeing.


Daffyd

A Walk Amongst The Stars



It is written into our Destiny
That we will walk amongst the stars,
Traverse those distant galaxies
So that we may enhance our repertoires.
With the resurrection of the Force
In that stage just after Death
Is a reality, a promise
Not a theological shibboleth.



For we all pass through a check point
Of mortality en route
To a level where our consciousness
With our shapes and forms transmute.
Such change aids our mobility
In our journeys through dark skies,
We become in a sense, all seeing
And by mortal standards, wise.



We become as unfettered as an abstract thought
As free as a cooling desert wind,
Our parameters are boundless
Yet our paths are predestined.
For it is written into our Destiny
That some may walk where once He trod
Remain with Him in perpetuity
Our Saviour, our Lord, our God.


Daffyd

I enjoyed reading this one Daffyd.

The terrible, but topical tale of Tutankhamun is laid down
herewith for your edification and entertainment.

I give you................KING TUT

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Daffyd

This is the tale of an old Yorkshire lad
And his introduction to computers and stuff
He struggled for hours to master the beast
Then decided that 'eed 'ad enough!
It were driving him mad and the keyboard were naff
And the 'floppies' were stiff, flat and round
He plugged in his speakers yet heard not a word
Even when he threw it ont' ground.



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Hey DaffyD..
I'll catch up un your poetry once our dear Glad gets the overlapping straightened out.

DaffyD, come and visit us in the "Willow's Workshop Topic" (in the Writing Forum)...and inspire our babble in silliness and seriousness or whatever...!!

Willows

Hey DaffyD...

For now...you may not be able to read this but it will get better....so hang in there!


I'm just waiting for the time..
That I can reply to you in rhyme
Kibbetz/serious...this or that
You and I can "chew the fat"
'Bout a silly bunch of nonsense
Maybe....it won't make too much sense
But we'll banter back and forth
'Bout stuff that has next-to-none in worth
Betchya I'll give you a smile
And in return...you'll send me a pile

(of smiles.... ...that is)....of.....fun!!!

Willows

is the overlapping still happening????

If so I cannot find out why.

As in all things there is a beginning........


Thoughts in a flickering Flame


Memory paints with a beautiful brush, on the canvas of my mind. I can rummage through it’s vast storehouse to see what pictures I can find. I can parade these images on a private screen and feel the warmth those memories can bring. I can weave the fabrics of that hallucinary dream, whilst choirs of angels sing. I can colour those recollections, in shades to match my mood, for in the most part those memories that remain with us, are very often good.

Memory paints with a beautiful brush even of loved ones long since dead, such thoughts are with me here and now, strolling sedately through my head. I can reach out, I can touch them, I can pass the time of day. I can select a chapter from my past and like a video, can replay the memories that are pleasing and do not upset a wounded heart, and with that magic brush of memory, bring forth those that did depart.

Time and distance is no obstacle for this artistry of mind, the exercise, it soothes me and brings me a peace I could not elsewhere find. For in this I am the creator, the artist with the brush I control the scene, control the pace, for there’s no need to rush. I can review those special moments and take hours to replay the scene. I can deliberate upon conversations and decipher exactly what they mean.

I can relive such moments almost any time or anywhere, even in a crowded room, or when no one else is there. Memory paints with a beautiful brush, it paints to one’s desire. It’s just a thought as you sit at home, staring into the fire.


Copyright © 2005 David Burt , all rights reserved
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Very nice Daffyd!

Aye Glad, those are the very words mah missus whispers to me efter ah hev recited her favourite poem....
A Scottish Love Poem....

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Another nice one.

Thanks Daffyd.

I am reminded of another old poem, one which I had almost forgotten about really!

FOR SHE BELIEVES IN ME

I am the centre of her universe, I am the sun that warms her day,
I am the love that fills her heart, but I have feet of clay.
In her eyes I can do no wrong, no matter what I do or say
I watch the tears well in her eyes when I have to go away.
I take her gently in my arms and dry those eyes so she can see
In my heart I know that I've been blessed, for she believes in me.

She watches me with those soft brown eyes, attentive and alert
With an unassuming tenderness that I've no wish to hurt.
I'm placed upon a pedestal that she has created in her mind
Because she fell in love with words, of the poetic kind.
Words I'd written in my youth of love and ecstasy.
Words she believes in to this day, for she believes in me.

Yet I'm no Casanova, no Don Juan sent to fill her dreams
It's only that the words I write make life better than it seems.
Her love is for the fantasy that my poetic words create
The rhythm fills her heart with love, it is the Bard who is her mate.
Beyond the Bard is the frail man as one day she will see
But until that day I'll enjoy her love, for she believes in me.

Meanwhile we'll share together the time of our allotted span
Perhaps one day the veil will lift and she will love the man.
The Bard is but a facet, a small part of what is me,
This she will discover if only those warm brown eyes could see
Beyond the pulsing rhythms of the Bard's anthology.
It's the man that really loves her, because she believes in me.

Sooooo beautiful DaffyD!
for you!

Thank you Willows for the flowers
The kind that last for hours and hours
So beautiful attired in red and green
And so attired....you should be seen
Not hidden away in Manitoba
Wait! Not yet! Wait until you're sober!

Regards

Daffyd.

"Wait until you're sober" !!!!!!?????????

Says my long-haired friend!
How didst your last lines e'er begin?
Well I'll jus' shlurppp anudderr drink!
An' weave deranged... like my friend think! :

So I'll pour us both a glass of rum
We'll see who's first to overcome...
The wrath of spirits swallowed..
Not one should remain hallowed...

For wrongs that we both might have did
Come morn'...the cry..."how will I rid"
The gaeity of night before
We'll promise that we'll drink no more!

And so to bed...my friend..

........and so to bed, what thinketh thee
Doest thou think I'm Zebadee..........(Magic Roundabout)
I'll have you know, yes... eeh by gum....
I've supped my share of Navy rum
For years I sailed the seven seas
When ships were made of oaken trees
Spiced the mainbrace many a time
Sang saucy songs in shanty rhyme
Hollow legs and an empty head
Saw my shipmates fold instead
Last man standing, clear of head
What was that you said about..... going to bed?