ALWAYS ABOUT HIM:

She loved him deeply & for him she cared,

She cooked, cleaned & of all she shared,

Dawn to dusk, washing, ironing & mending,

On raw knees, scrubbing & sorely bending,

It was always about him.

 

With low meager rations, she eked & made do,

She went without, so he had his warming stew,

She never denied, when his passions roared rife,

It was her duty to him, always to be a good wife,

It was always about him.

 

Her children she raised, good daughters & sons,

Foregoing her pleasures & her forgotten lost fun,

Then her children left home & her husband fell ill,

She was by his side to care & administer his pills,

It was always about him.

 

“What a wonderful man”, said neighbours one & all,

But she then succumbed to death, in one fatal fall,

Her laughter echoed daily, from blue far away skies,

As cold raindrops tumbled, from her far distant eyes,

It was always about him.

 

“Poor man”, they all said, “Now left all on his own”,

“How on earth will he cope, without her at home?

Who will care for & feed him? Such a terrible sin”

From heaven she mused, it was always about him,

But now it is all about me.

MAY I BE?

May I be the book you want to read?

May I be the tree you plant from seed?

May I be the map to show your way?

May I be the words in things you say?

 

May I be the poem upon your tongue?

May I be the song that you once sung?

May I be the place where you once stood?

May I be that love you once understood?

DO I-DON´T I?

Do I like people? No not I,

Do I like animals? Yes I do,

Dare ask me, what or why?

I love all bugs & love you too.

 

Do I like men? No not at all,

Do I like women?  A tad more,

I love critters that creep & crawl,

I love souls with fur, claw & paw.

 

Do I love humans? No I don´t,

In all their cruelty, I just can´t,

Will I be lenient? No I won´t,

Shall I forgive them? No I shan´t.

 

 

THE HOME:

The Home, where they are placed by daughters & sons,

When they´re too old for laughter & forgotten long fun,

Where they´re placed, when forgotten now how to play,

Left there & told, “This is where you´re now going to stay.”

 

Displace old souls, of mutterings, seepings, oozings & leaks,

Sad mummified memories, of the old friends they now seek,

This Home, where old heads are grizzled, grey & befuddled,

Where pills, sweets & treats, get mixed up & so very muddled.

 

Great soldiers once fought, within the old eyes of the bleak,

The stage once applauded, those who are now feeble & weak,

The great mothers & fathers, of grown children & their nations,

Who all once had their places & they all knew their stations.

 

They´re all dancing in the places, where they once used to visit,

Where once they flew like birds & scuttled fast like lizards,

Now, memory´s meeting places are in halls of the unknown,

It is within the four grey walls, of this place called the Home.

 

TELL ME LITTLE ONE:

Tell me little one, how to be a good mother,

I want to love you, but without need to smother,

So I ask you my little one, please just tell me how,

 I´ll improve in my loving, from the moment of now.

 

Tell me little one, how to do it, all perfectly right,

I want to protect you, but without need to fight,

So if I ever ask you, the wherefore´s & the why´s?

Answer me little one, but with no need for cries.

 

Tell me little one, all the right roads I must take,

On journey of motherhood, without the mistakes,

And on reaching the crossroads, let me know when,

On completing our trek, we will both know it then.