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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