How we love those Christmas songs

That take us where the heart belongs

And happy days that go so fast

Recalling a past we'd love to last.

But as the festive days recede

And we look to where our lives will lead

Each in our own way - with cheer or tear

Says hello to a brand new year.

So - raise a toast - and raise a smile

And reach out over many a mile

To welc...

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High white clouds scudding across a fading dusk sky encroach

Like high bright hopes of time now gone as we see another year approach.

It's no comfort to know there's no earthly chance or any way to control

The passing of the hours and days, so we must ourselves console

With thoughts of better things to come and better times ahead

While we play our part...take up a role...as we put t...

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Marcie Summers is no longer with us but the clarity of her voice stays on. No text is needed for this blog of

the song.  Her voice tells it perfectly.  A Country version has been recorded over in Nashville USA.  

MC 

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Lift up your voice - let all rejoice

And make a joyful sound

Cast off the care Mankind must bear -

When Christmas comes around

Stand up and sing  - let love take wing

Our praises shall resound

The Word we share is everywhere

When Christmas comes around

Look to your heart - that's where to start -

Where Life itself begins

And you shall know that faith will sh...

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They say he muttered "stupid woman" from the Opposition Front Bench

(A toffee-nosed tory of other days might have uttered "silly wench").

Cue for shock, dismay and awe - and hapless Jeremy got what for,

Not so much for what he said - but how he stood up and misled

Those who swooned in their cocoon of panting pious outrage

As JC played his leading role from a totally different page

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How fitting now in deep December,

When days are short and life is low,

That in our hearts we will remember

Those we knew who had to go.

Christmas hours are briefly bright,

Their spark is spent in winter's pay

And soon surrenders to the night

When light retreats and fades away.

But O how wonderful this living!

How magical this life we own,

That we are given t...

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Like a familiar returning refrain

Stretched the empty Devon lane

Taking me on - yet taking me back

To folk and times I won't see again.

Faces long gone and Christmases past

Haunting me by not holding fast

Both whispering down that empty track

"Nothing in your life will last".

The tide below the coast blew spume

Above the shingle's ceaseless boom

In Mother Na...

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They asked me..,.

"Have you missed her?"

I said "Who?"

They said "Your sister".

I said "Natch...just like a scratch -

A boil...or a blister!"

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Thinking of posting a poem I browsed some old stuff of mine

When one quickly caught my eye which I thought would be just fine.

But reading it reminded me that it would be a steal

From the much-missed pen and courteous mien of the late Harry O'Neil.

I realised how it had impressed me when I read it at the time,

And how I copied it word for word -  not to seemed a crime!

Those who ...

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O happy days - remembering how the coins from my pay would jingle

In my blue jeans' pocket - enough for the Cliff and Shadows' hit single.

Cliff - then so young - swung and sung of  "Moving and Grooving";

Now we're both Shadows of our youth and grateful just to keep moving!

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Those who feel continually stressed

About their fate to be second best

Should heed the tale of young Horace Hurst

Driven by the desire always to be first.

Horace, an apprentice, considered his place

Ahead of the rest in any sort of race,

A volunteer through and through

As those about him certainly knew.

In truth, when all was said and done

He had a reputation s...

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Everything in this world comes, to stay a while - then goes,

Be it a gargantuan dinosaur or a softly fragrant rose.

Maybe one day we'll accept the fact - it's right before our nose,

But being mindful of how we are - just WHEN, do you suppose?!

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The Sky programme "The Pledge" recently featured a female panellist talking about misogyny and it got me

thinking.(no bad thing!!)...

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What to make of this protesting progeny

Fixated on misogyny? -

E.G. hatred towards women by us men.

In the interests of impartiality

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There must be many stressed about....

When there's nothing to protest about,

And no one to be messed about,,

And nothing warranting arrest about;

But there might be one less pest about!

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I remember well from my boyhood in genteel Torquay of old,

How distant were dreams of central heating to fend off creeping cold.

I became something of an expert in making up a daily pyre

Of  dry wood sticks and newspaper rings to ignite the living room fire.

The large front page of the Daily Telegraph was placed - ready to bring in

Once struck matches had done their job and the proc...

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When I read lines that reek of pretension

I follow a policy of mental abstention.

Obscure or obtuse

They provide an excuse

To proceed to stuff that merits attention.

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Words are a writer's tools. We owe it to our craft to keep them honed and to the point.  For example:

The word "white" has various leanings

When it's brought into play,

Suited to separate meanings

According to what you say,

For instance: you can be "white with fury"...

Or "white as the driven snow";

But it's well to see the difference

With what you seek to show.

The...

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The story of Jack the Giant Killer

Is something of an ancient thriller

It seems young Jack possessed four prizes

That came in separate forms and sizes.

This legend has a Gallic source...

(That's source - and not French sauce, of course!)

He had a cloak to hide him from other eyes,

A perfect sort of self-disguise;

Add to that shoes none could match,

Which when w...

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If I'm ever visited by dementia

I would prefer it in absentia!

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One of the great attributes of those who endured service in WW1 was their humour.  One who was a

successful lifetime exponent was Sir Alan Herbert (A.P.Herbert) who was described in an obituary -

"more than any man of his day, he added to the gaiety of the nation".  The final verse of a poem about 

an unpopular general called Shute  who was critical of the hygiene practices of Herbert's b...

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The car that carried Archduke Ferdinand and his wife to their fates at the hand of the terrorist Princip is

kept in a military museum in Vienna.  It has been pointed out to its custodians that the registration

plate of this vehicle shows the following extraordinary mark, its relevance apparently not picked up

until a keen-eyed visiting observer remarked on it to the museum.

A111 118

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On the eve of this Remembrance Sunday - commemorating the 100th anniversary of the Armistice, it seems appropriate for me to turn to the last words he penned on a conflict he managed to survive from 

my father, who served with the 1st Btn. Duke of Cornwall's Light Infantry, 5th Division..

"11/11/18 - Marched into Le Quesnoy about mid-day & took over the military barracks from the New Zealand...

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Sometimes, it can seem

That life's just some scheme

Of glad meetings

And sad goodbyes:

Arms outstretched in warm welcome -

And the discreet dabbing of damp eyes.

But any future way in disguised display

That may be shown for us to roam,

Will never stay to disown that day

When we first left home.

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Just what sort of mug

Goes on any drug

That isn't properly prescribed?

You might also think

The same of those who drink

And are careless about what's imbibed.

But it's what ISN'T said

That does in my head...

What's lost in so many ways:

This stuff doesn't come cheap,

But you hardly hear a peep

About cost and the pocket that pays!

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Shot and shell,

Blown to hell,

And to think it had all begun so well.

Consigned to death and its mouldering stench,

Close companions in a mud-filled trench.

The whistles blow,

Away they go,

Over the top in frantic show

Towards an enemy yet unseen

Through air of bilious yellow and green.

The rat-a-tat-tat

Soon tells them that

They will grow neither old nor fat;

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"13/4/18" - so the faded hand-written entry begins on a yellowed parchment page,

Proclaiming its message from a century ago - over its skin of extreme old age.

The black ink from a new-fangled fountain pen brings the nightmare of dried-up blood

That splashed and spurted, to leave its stain across the muck and mud.

So near the end, cruelly caught by death, their life-force fatally spill...

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No one should go where a soldier must go

And know what a soldier must know.

No one should see what a soldier must see

And live with the memory.

And so with the arrival of November,

It should be that we too must remember.

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Do not come to WOL expecting to be feted.

Do not come to WOL expecting to be celebrated.

DO write what you feel instead,

in the hope it might be read.

Treat your words with love and care

And show respect for those who share

Each poem that you chose to post,

Investing each one with the most

Sincere content you can muster

Avoiding ego and its bluster.

Try to say somethi...

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For the occasion of my funeral, I've made a last request:

That the day of my departure hears no vain protest;

No wailing (and no crowing!)

At the reality of my going...

To those present, I suggest: give it a rest!

And bear in mind as you face life anew...

It may be down with me - 

But it'll soon be up with you!

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The following is a response to the People's Vote 2 march in my own backyard here in London.

It's the March of the Misguided,

An insistent voice confided.

What sees them want a servile role

To foreign rule beyond control?

What sees them play perfidy's part

Far removed from Freedom's heart

And the history of this ancient nation

That always fought tyranny's oration?

What pe...

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There's a black shroud

Over the Kingdom of Saud;

Freedom's murder allowed

Diplomatically disavowed,

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With a happy nod to Howard Dietz - top wordsmith and creator of the famous MGM Film trademark.

Dancing in the dark,

Till this life ends

We're dancing in the dark,

When all strife ends.

So - whether leading or led,

If invited - nod your head;

Never look askance...

Just grab the chance

instead -

Let's face the music and dance.

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This Saturday, London's roads will be closed once again

So the disaffected can demonstrate their desire to remain

Within the EU - so selling their soul

For personal convenience - but no real control

Over the running of this nation and who gives the orders

Let alone the concerns about uncontrolled borders.

Their cotton and rag filled minds are obsessed

With travel and trivia an...

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That which is not understood is feared:

So it has always been;

Into the mindset for millennia seared,

Making much of the misery humanity's seen.

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The Guardian newspaper (home of the free),

Tells us the fuzz targeted the SWP,

Over many years  - as if it were odd

That it should interest plodding Mr Plod.

Even worse - some rozzers had an affair

With SWP ladies they managed to ensnare

While doggedly pursuing their secret duty -

Acquiring some extra-curricular booty!

"Unfair, unfair", the watchdog barks,

Outr...

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Although I can only claim a passing acquaintance with the wedding ceremony as a best man  

and a guest, I am familiar with the longer term effects on those I know.  

I post this poem in that vein.

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There's satisfaction finding another

Who wants the same as you

And is prepared to bravely u...

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This small offshore island nation

Earned a worthy reputation

As a welcoming destination

For those intent on immigration.

But it can now be said as such

That too much of anything is...well...too much!

And that a thing too often used

Runs the risk of being abused.

When many leapfrog numerous lands

Arriving here with outstretched hands,

As if losing sight of co...

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Doom and gloom...doom and gloom!

One wonders at the lack of room

Obtained by those who would employ

Poems of unbridled joy.

Envy, jealousy and hate

Appear daily to dominate

The minds of many poets writing

Lines of carping and back-biting.

Lift the darkness of despair...

Let lit lanterns linger there!

Bring about the welcome light side

And like the song: "...

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The duty of a poet

Is to persuade people

To countenance what is not considered

And to consider what is not countenanced.

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You can call me a wet blanket

But I love to see the rain;

I'm always sure to thank it

When I see it back again.

I love to look outside at clouds,

Hovering overhead like shrouds

Or veils barely hiding tears

Witnessing the passing biers.

Sun-worshippers may think me mad,

A perverse sort of chappie -

But I say to them I'm just so glad

To be wet - and be happ...

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"If you can meet Triumph and Disaster..."

Wrote the chap with the cake-maker's name,

Adding to his  confection like a master -

"And treat those two imposters just the same".

Now, a century on, with the odd snobbish sniff,

Lines from his most famous poem named "IF"

Are probably quoted more frequently than

Most other written works that rhyme and scan.

But there are still many...

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Do we die and then move on,

To re-appear new born upon

This stage which bid the flesh goodbye,

To see life with some other's eye

And once again set out to make

The journey that is ours to take?

Is that the plan for you and me...

This essay in eternity?

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October is a funny month,

Almost unwilling to share -

Like the servant of old who answers the door

And gives you that "just a minute" stare....

As if to ask you where you're from

And why you've come to call -

Like a visitor from foreign climes

With clothes that say it all.

Then - with a look beyond your face,

The begrudging step aside...

October sees you bid...

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Children can be a pleasure,

They can also be a pain;

Spare me the kids at leisure

In a train or on a plane!

They can be little angels,

Or the Devil's own sown brood;

Charming and disarming,

Or incorrigibly rude.

An old adage has just occurred

And refers to the typical brat -

Children should be seen...but not heard -

And I'll say amen to that!

I he...

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The summer wind whispers its muted message of goodbye

To the late lit leisure evenings and clear azure sky;

To the laughter in children's voices and the murmur of the sea

That linger in our quiet hours now the autumn wind blows free.

The summer wind was always warm against our smiling faces

Custodian of happy days and fond remembered places;

Of folk we knew and times we knew...

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Something is clearly being lost

In the "Me Me" mindset of today -

That the "free" in freedom has a cost

That never ever goes away,

And someone somewhere has to pay!

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One fine day,

In the middle of the night,

Two dead men

Got up to fight;

With one blind man

To see fair play

And one dumb man

To shout hurray!

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Those who have been on WOL for a while may recall this poem but it seemed to fit the Saturday Rhymer's theme for today.  I'll let readers draw their own conclusions about the literary inspiration.

I like a handsome hound for sport,

But a pretty pup's my treasure;

The hound will stretch and not be caught,

My pup will stretch with pleasure.

The hound may bare his teeth at me

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Self-satisfied scientists will tell you that since the world began

We've always been accompanied by the life that lives on man.

Unseen and uninvited these companions do their work

Helping to keep us healthy so we need never shirk

From doing what we need to and facing each new day

With our silent little helpers keeping unwanted bugs at bay.

And whilst the use of soap and water ser...

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"Vanity...vanity...all is vanity!"

A statement so questionable,

It's close to profanity.

But then I suppose

We each have a weakness:

One might admire strength

Whilst another loves meekness.

But it saps at our sanity

To say ALL is vanity

Though its author might resent

Accusations of inanity.

So why not amend it

To assuage sensitivities

And be thought as genero...

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There are times when I question this age in which we live

With its ceaseless entreaties to give...give...give...

 When a quiet voice within makes my heart yearn

For eager encouragement to earn...earn...earn!

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Should tempests torment far-off Japan

Until they agree to a whaling ban?

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Fake news...fake religion...fake science - take your pick.  It usually has "money" in there somewhere!

In this world that we all share

We must be sure to be aware

Of our responsibility to mind

For each Earthly thing of any kind..

And we must also recognise

Those who see with other eyes

Whose views are not the same as ours

With values prey to other powers.

...

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I have this nagging notion

That if you're pro-emotion

Then logic is out the door

And sense will follow for sure.

And if you disagree

You plainly do not see

The purpose of the brain...

Is to decide on what's to gain!

It really couldn't be plainer

Simply a no-brainer!

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You are the music in my heart

And with each note I feel a part

Of some eternal symphony

Written just for you and me

You are the melody in my mind

And with its tune I always find

New meaning in this life I live

New ways to love, new ways to give

You are the song I've come to know

Wherever in this world I go

As sweet as any sung by birds

But they will never...

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There is a planning application from a Japanese owned company to build a test/race track for driverless cars on part of the site of the Battle of Bosworth Field.  This is a personal response.

A hearse, a hearse, my kingdom for a hearse!

For carting off our history - and what, pray, could be worse?

Richard Crookback was brought to book at famous Bosworth Field

And the Plantagenets ...

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How many times I seem to have spent

Controlling that ephemeral environment,

A duty placed on those like me

To safely secure frivolity

That seemed to last from morn till night

Till the final clear-up came in sight;

With protective boarding taken down

By those on their return to town

Praying for homes and - inter-alia -

Gardens unsoiled by drug paraphernalia;

While hosp...

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The shock result in TV's top foodie show

Surprised many fans but they weren't to know

That the winner came from a long line of crooks

Whose skills weren't confined to cooking the books!

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Some recent blogs brought the following to mind as many lives benefit from enlightened attitudes..

Homo...lezzie...fairy...queer -

Accuse, abuse and bruise the ear,

And feed on  fear.

Fragile girl and frightened boy

That hate and self-hate would destroy

Just seeking joy.

Younger soul and older friend

Fighting pressure to pretend

And not offend.

Hum...

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The knocks came loud at half-past four,

The wife groaned from her rest.

"You give that waste of space what for,

I loathe the little pest!"

Her hubby squinted at the clock,

With still no sign of dawn;

He'd give that youth a nasty shock,

He'd wish he'd not been born.

They'd suffered since he came to stay

With all his useless kin;

Up all night (he slept all day...

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In Switzerland, strange to say, they don't find it a wrench

That one side of the place speaks Deutsch while the other side speaks French.

The people have long been accepting and it doesn't seem to jar -

That Teutonic tongue that says "I'm boss!" and the laid-back "Oo-la-la".

The centuries have surely played their part to see them get along

In those cantons where commerce is king and...

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The former Labout big-wheel John Denham - now in academia - gave a speech recently about "English

identity" - rather timely when so many others are given so much publicity.  And I wonder how many on

WOL have memories that go back as far as mine?

Do you remember my England?

When people said "How do you do?"

And most of them were folk you knew,

And everybody joined a queue...

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A true story and probably ongoing....

I tned to be forgiving - you could also add forebearing,

About the ants who perchance have chosen my flat for sharing.

They march in line, or scurry about as if with no sense of direction,

Heading aimlessly this way or that under my patient inspection.

But that personal patience ended today when I picked up the telephone

And found to my ...

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Alone into this world I came

And doubtless will I go;

Spare me tales of pain and blame

And tears of grief and woe.

Like a river my life slips past,

Sometimes slow and clear,

And other times it races fast

Like water over a weir.

But when I walk a windswept moor

Or forests and fields of green,

I feel as if I've been before

To places that I've seen.

...

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Apropos the invitation from the land of good sports

For a Saturday poem on the subject of shorts

I'll be brief - avoiding any risk of retort

By going no further - and keeping this short!

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The British sense of humour is famously robust

And that's just as well - truth to tell

Or we might have long since bitten the dust!

Remember the Brit on holiday basking by the sea

With a knotted hanky on his head -

And trousers rolled to the knee?

Or the bowler-hatted business gent parading through the City,

So consumed with commercial intent

Mocked with many a di...

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OK - who knows that today - Wednesday 8th August 2018 - is World Yodel Day?

It's amazing what news can be found online and I thought this was worth noting!

Those famous hills may be alive

If Julie Andrews ain't on the skive,

So, let's celebrate in a personal way

And give voice to World Yodel Day!

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We'd known each other for forty years

Meeting in a local pub,

With so many familiar faces

At times it was like a club.

A Scot who'd emigrated

From Aberdeen to far B.C.

And become an English professor

At a top university.

But still drawn back to Blighty

To rent a central flat

In time for yearly Wimbledon

And evenings of cheerful chat.

He said he'd ...

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Some think it's neat

To be on heat,

But if you're always hot

Perhaps it's not.

Moderation in all things,

(Remember roundabouts and swings?!),

So when experiencing unbridled passion,

It may be pleasing after a fashion - 

But too much of something termed forbidden

Can be forbidding and best kept hidden.

So - when you feel something stirring,

Accompanied by an inner p...

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A re-post, encouraged by this amazing spell of proper summer weather.

Why do I look to autumn

When summer sun is here?

For autumn mist cannot resist

The call to Christmas cheer.

Yet Yuletide's far from over

When fancy finds the spring;

Then how I sigh for sapphire sky

And songbirds on the wing....

When days are beckoning brightly,

With evening...

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If, as you come to the time to depart,

You find yourself alone,

Rest assured by the thought that it marks the start

Of a journey - but not on your own.

The friends and relations of years long past

Will appear to show you the way;

To be there beside you, to lift you and guide you

Away from your brief mortal stay.

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Funny - but not ha-ha - how time slips away,

Dismissing each second, each hour, each day.

All we can do is make sure we play

The game life allows

For as long as we stay.

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The following arose from a "flyer" put through the door recently.

"LOST in the area - a black cat".

Well, that says it all about that!

When it comes to moggy motion

Has anyone a foggy notion

Where just such a cat might be at?!

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Michel Barnier is like night and fog -

Thank heavens for Jacob Rees-Mogg!

Decisive...incisive,

He may be divisive,

But he's a sovereign UK's best watchdog!

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If I like the work of a poet

That's a personal point of view.

It's not a presumption of mine to show it

Means others must admire it too.

In the business world, in geographical terms,

Publishers know where north and south is,

And the every day their work affirms

That they put their cash where their mouth is.

The world of commerce of any sort

Is subject to much t...

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Those in the throes

Of permanent prose

Do not, I find,

Linger long in the mind,

But often get stuck up my nose.

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I was still upset when I woke this morning;

How did Croatia win?

How did they snatch those touches

That saw their goals go in?

England had the chances

To put the game to bed,

And the memory of them dances

Forlornly in my head.

There's no advantage in "fast forward"

If mis-laying or mis-playing the ball;

Golden opportunities

Gone beyond recall.

Was...

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Woe betide if you dare to infringe

On the rights of others to grizzle and whinge;

Woe betide if you criticise

Lines designed to bring tears to the eyes;

Woe betide if you try to make

Out of them what's true or fake;

Woe betide if you seem unkind

When so many seem ready to say they mind;

Woe betide because sooner or later

You might upset a moderator!    

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I see politicians of blue,

Politicians of red,

Forget me and you -

By dogma they're led,

And I say to myself:

What a whiney fool world.

I hear moans of complaint,

Envy and spite,

Demanding...demanding...

 Anything seen as a "right",

And I say to myself:

What a whiney fool world.

I read and I hear

Of strangers on the shore,

Seeking new lives

Bu...

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Suddenly this morning

I was without care

When without warning

We passed on the stair.

Daylight was dawning

And my mind was elsewhere

Busily yawning

When I saw you there.

Now sadness I'm scorning

And I long to share

The heart that's adorning

This love-stricken stare.

So - every morning

I dash down the stair

Hoping the dawning

Will see you ...

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If you take to a London street

And strut with other marching feet

Besieging Parliament to insist

That its occupants keep a tryst 

With the demands from a foreign source

That keep control of this nation's course....

Waving banner and close clenched fist

Aren't you a Fifth Columnist? 

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Marking time should be a crime,

Only Man invents the ways

To remind ourselves of how it goes -

Each ticking off the days!

But when our spirits are in the dock

Of the Court of Vanished Time

We might regret we lived by the clock

And consider our obsession a crime

Which saw us slaves to a merciless master

As remorseless as the tide

That served to see unfulfilled lives go...

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Those on WOL for a while will know of my liking for combining verse/lyric and finding a song in the process.  The attached title is based on the predicament of an unlucky soul who realises by the way 

the loved one's gaze seems preoccupied, attention elsewhere as if "seeing" another, that the relationship is in trouble.  My thanks to Bob Evans for the recording.

MC 

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How to express the excitement, the way the morning feels,

Loading up the car with growing feelings of elation.

The allure of the distant open road waiting for your wheels,

All the exotic names on the map - each unknown destination.

The satisfying clunk of the driver's door, ready for the off;

The key in the ignition your passport to romantic places

The memory of those doubte...

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Have you had any thoughts about driverless cars -

And what progress proposes for our beloved jam-jars?

Tootling down the highway with your hands on the wheel

Is something to treasure...something to FEEL!

Look in the mirror - which would you want banished -

The aggressive boot bumper - or a driver that's VANISHED?

Personally, I'd prefer them both out of sight

So I can enjoy my ...

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How can you be

A real refugee

If you leapfrog a free Europe to get here?

This misuse of the word

Is an abuse of the word

When considering many instances met here.

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Praise the Lord that I'm not a copper

With this present lot parading in power,

And before you think that's improper,

I'm including the opposite shower.

Incessantly interfering

In a once great public service,

With stuff that have crims cheering

While the law-abiding get nervous.

Cut-backs on costs with severity

Because of political failing...

In the dubious n...

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Does assuming the moral high ground...

Projecting humanity and piety

Place that position as beyond profound -

And awkward "asks" from imperfect society?

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There are times when blogs on WOL resemble a procession

Of  those who might be better suited going to confession!

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Loris Karius - the young Liverpool ''keeper

Finished in Kiev a woebegone weeper,

Paying the price for some momentary mistakes

That probably see him suffering the shakes

With PTS flashbacks that won't set him free... 

Memories to haunt him and not let him be.

The abuse online from rude Scouser fans

Should sentence those morons to suffer life bans

But Liverpool supporters are...

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Some who've suffered grief and strife

May see Time as the thief of life,

Every minute of every hour

Proving Time's remorseless power.

But Time's account is the sum of our days

Offering credit in so many ways,

And we owe it to ourselves- and it

To make best use of every bit.

Let 'waste not - want not' be your creed

For Time - the healer and true friend in need.

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Can anyone explain what love is?

Is it merely tarted-up lust?

And valuing it "beyond and above" is

Just disguising when need becomes must.

What is this weird dependency

Of one human being on another,

With hope in eternal ascendancy

As some soul seeks a like-minded "other"?

How many lines of poetry get written

Explaining how love is or ain't?

And how easy it ...

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Seventy five years ago this day saw one of the great morale-boosting events of World War Two - the

famous "Dambusters" raid on the industrial heartland of Nazi Germany.  Some years ago, I was

present in a small upstairs room of a Torbay pub to listen to the talk given by George "Johnny" Johnson,

the bomb-aimer of the Lancaster flown by American pilot Pat MacCarthy to attack the Sorpe Dam.

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Excuse me barely suppressing a groan

At yet another report of a "Me..Me..Me" moan;

And feeling the pangs of compassion fatigue

From these carping "isms" - as if in some league

Of who scores most points from achieving a mention

To move on ahead in the fight for attention.

With each utterance I recall that political gem:

"A period of silence would be very welcome" from them.

...

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During the night I woke up with some poetry lines in mind,

Then fell asleep again and on waking later, what then did I find?

That I remembered having the words my mind was set upon,

But blow me down, it brassed me off to find that they'd all gone!

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The ego argues

Wisdom discusses.

The first has minuses

The second -  pluses.

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The breath of an early dawn in Spring

Is like a choir eager to sing

To remind us of all that life can bring

The renewal of hopes and dreams that cling

From the early times when life was young

And we found ourselves adrift among

Fellow beings like flotsam flung

On some strange shore to which we clung,

Each with an unspoken fate to face

Engaged in some unspoken r...

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The English don't need to be told what they know,

That they take England wherever they go.

New lands may rail at the old empirical state

That saw them led to a former fate,

But they often retain the ongoing existence

Of worthwhile examples of the old perisistence

Of self-belief, faith and the rule of law

That took England to many a distant shore.

Other venturing empires the...

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Those of us taking the trouble to see

Know that experts don't always agree.

In point of fact, they'll often call out

Other experts - then watch just how they fall out!

They'll be keen to be interviewed

On whatever they deal in

Always seeking a renewed

Chance to invest personal spiel in 

Their status as experts beloved by the media

Who produce them like dogs trained to be...

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Here's a view of the poetry "competition"

From which I won't be budged,

With some words for those who presume erudition:

Judge not lest ye be judged!

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A Recherche du Temps Perdu

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Let no one try to persuade you that children do not know sensuality.  It is a falsehood.  But fear not, dear

reader, I refer to sensuality not the sexuality lurking to loom large in later life (how's THAT for alliteration?).

I was perhaps eight years old when I discovered an impulse to indulge the senses.  Ne...

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It had to happen sooner or later

Expelled by a WOL moderator!

Political poetry is suddenly taboo,

Yet I recall stuff from you-know-who

And tut-tut-tut and what's her name 

And others who abuse and blame

Those they see worth their invective

Left to their right to be selective.

WOL "not a platform for political views"?

Well, upon my soul - that's NEWS!

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This item has been removed by our moderator team because it didn't abide by our Code Of Conduct. Comments may also be deleted.

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I saw a miniscule black life form ascending my bathroom sink

And I refrained from turning on the tap as its progress made me think.

I even helped it on its way with a piece of handy tissue 

To reach to top of its vertical climb since its survival was at issue.

Something about its determined deed seized my rapt attention

And persuaded me to intercede - but I'm sorry to have to mentio...

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The harpies and the harridans are still out there;

The henpecked husbands too.

I know these don't define me,

But I wonder - do they define you?

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One thing to note about the  past -

What's done is done, the die is cast,

And we are bound to move away,

Obliged to face each passing day. 

Nothing can be changed but then

the bad stuff shouldn't happen again.

If we insist on judging what went before

Let's do our own best to make sure

We learn from what the past can teach

With its "don't do" lessons within reach

........

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With a chuckle and a nod

God took Ken Dodd.

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Hurry, hurry, hurry,

Come get your share of worry;

Politically inspired...media fired,

To smother you like slurry!

Your every day must burn

With this or that concern,

To go to bed, near off your head

And there to toss and turn.

We're targeted by hysteria

That makes us feel inferior -

Hardened by a predictable return

To the need to feel superior.

But we're in the...

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When in solitude I steal time to think

And of your cherished memory drink,

I wish my lonely loving cup

Was with your own sweet self filled up.

But many a sup the lip has sought

Is always better given than bought,

So I think on with you in mind

And from your cherished image find

Some consolation for a heart

So cruelly made to play this part.

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Some words of advice to women and men

To ponder and practice now and again:

You women - the following is politely proposed -

There are times when it's wise to keep mouth and legs closed.

You men - bear in mind that it's right to resist

Any temptation to insist with your dick or your fist!

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Imagine there's someone using a gun

Or a sharp bladed weapon for ill,

When it comes to their use

Let's not be obtuse 

The aim is usually to kill.

A gun or a knife that threatens a life

Is the extension of minds in a role

That seeks to impose

Their will upon those

Whose fate they want to control.

If someone is armed and others alarmed

At the threat that they represe...

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O'Neill's with the angels now!

O kneel Harry - and show them how

You came to find your rightful place

In that unseen heavenly space,

And why your sprightly eighty nine

Was a prelude to a life divine.

The guardians of its gates may cheer

But we miss your presence a lot down here!

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Who do I blame for importing the "high five"...

Childish palm slapping - like kids on the skive!

What happened to the respect of the pat on the back

Or the nod and the shaking of hands?

Now it's high fives and hugs

Like punks high on their drugs

Or those posturing scruffbags in bands!

Folk who've achieved their mature years

Now clap hands like kids with far fewer years

E...

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WOL parades a "Poem of the Week" for our edification - and, occasionally, our education.

In the light of various responses to material that is posted, some of which are both enlightening and

educational, perhaps we should juggle the letters of "Poem" around to have a "Mope of the Week"

- with a nod towards the most entertaining variation appertaining to words of  comment and criticism

...

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War is some fine madness,

A tale of vanity's woe;

But from that great insanity

Can a greater sanity grow -

As successive waves of humanity

In their tides ebb to and fro? 

Is the cruel price of each sacrifice

The cost of what we must know?

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At the outset let me firmly state

I'm all for paying "the going rate"

For what is done - no matter by whom,

But sport itself is a selective broom.

The Olympic female on a winter day

Who throws herself on a tin tea tray

To hurtle down a tube of ice

At speeds that make the sane blink twice

Is worth far more than what comes in pay

To others in the sporting fray.

There ar...

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In lands where they originate

Religion is a tool of hate,

Aimed at the freedoms that we give here,

So why do they choose to come and live here?

Declaring that an infidel

Deserves to feel the fires of hell.

I have this question in my mind

But doubt a "faithful" answer I'll find;

Are Muslim cuckoos flying west

To oust our own bird from its nest?

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I tend to suspect the stuff we're told

About Health Care woes being down to the old;

Those who steadfastly paid their tax

While others get treated off their backs:

Alkys, druggies, and malingerers who

Install themelves in the NHS queue.

The old would rather be off their trolley,

Installed in beds bought by their lolly,

Before being placed in proper care

For those who've ...

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I wait with breathless anticipation for details of the "brief" to be followed by the introduction of a 

Minister for the Lonely.  Happily living alone, content in my own company, but ready to chat to all

so inclined to enjoy what was called "shooting the breeze", I'm not convinced that this new

post is either practical or desirable.  Our human condition is affected by numerous and various

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