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Re: complaint

Thankyou, dear Sir, for your recent feedback.
It was good of you to expose our lack
Of sufficient service to you, dear Sir;
when, from your money, we have gained our hire.

Some criticism has a place, for sure
And we do indeed accept our frailties.
However, in this case, we were quite right,
and so resented being condemned with might.

It is with the deepest regret, my friend,
that I will inform you in the end
of how I cannot consent in your aim
despite your insistance that you will gain.

“What!?” You may say in indignation.
Yes. Truly, such detraction bewrays you.


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Posted by on Tuesday, January 17, 2012 in poetry

 

too lonely

“Ring, ring”
You’re quiet, aren’t you?
I’m quiet, amen’t I?
But you wouldn’t know that
I’ve made sure of that
I have stifled my sobs
And caught my tears.


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Posted by on Tuesday, December 20, 2011 in philosophy, poetry

 

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Life

Thankful for a happy home;
Thankful for a Dad who cares;
Thankful for the shining sun;
Thankful for a Mum who dares.

Dares to stand for what is right
Tho’ she may not understand
Why she must suffer opposition
And be the object of derision.

It takes courage to stand alone.
I hope I never fail.
One day I may face my foe:
Give me the strength to stay true.


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Posted by on Tuesday, November 27, 2007 in poetry

 

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“The Sound of the Mill”

“The sound of the mill”
Nothing more until…
“The sound of the mill”
How sorry to kill
the time that was meant
to be better spent

Than in mindly wanderings
upon mere earthly things
instead of on that
which would benefit;
instead of thinking
on eternity.


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Posted by on Saturday, September 1, 2007 in poetry

 

Sharing

After a decision I have made recently, I thought I’d try and ease my way slowly back into this poetry lark with a random musing from my walk home tonight:

See a person
smile them gladly
and all your days
will not be empty.

Ps: While doing some random research for this post, I came across such a diverting link that I just have to share… (Yes, I know there are far too many words underlined, but what he says is interesting enough to make up for it.) 😉


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Posted by on Thursday, August 30, 2007 in poetry

 

A Mother’s love

She is in agony, in agony.
She is my own flesh and blood, for my life.
Now she sits, her face contorted from pain
Stranger to me, as she were a statue.
She would go to bed, before the night becomes
too long. I help her to stand up and
proceed down the corridor together;
not, I sigh, without some difficulty.
Helping her undress, she is patient
– as always – and meeker the worse she felt.
How I longed to do… anything for her!
Then, before she went to quietly sleep
I kiss the tender cheek, mutt’ring “Night, Mum.”
and slip back into the child I had been.


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Posted by on Tuesday, March 30, 2004 in poetry

 

Journeying

It is a bus: ye olde busse,
– for a penny a ride –
with conductor hat and all
at the entrance standing tall.

As the bus stops by the bus stop,
climbing on through open doors
I can hear the metal tinkling
and the buzzer saying “ring”.

Also the bus – this time more modern –
takes me along past all the world:
Sitting waiting, screech of brakes,
on again, past shops and lakes.

Stop the bus! I rise to leave;
press the bell and say “Thankyou.”
The doors slide open with a hiss
and out I step onto the grass.

A bus starts up and carries on.
No longer do I see;
as I step off alone
the bus carries on.


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Posted by on Tuesday, March 30, 2004 in poetry