Outside wa house ‘t new umbrellas drip~
Wun is red and wun is pretty beige
They’re wa sunshades, t’weather’s hit a blip
If A wer a child A’d sail a ship
Or dash in pools u’ water in mi rage
Outside wa house ,’t new umbrellas drip ;
Times there were Mam’s moods got a grip
Then it wer quite hard to re-engage
Hide wa sunshades, mother’s hit a blip
Mam we’ lovely but she lost her top
Seemed we ‘ad been reading ‘t naughty page
Outside wa house ,’t new umbrellas drip ;
Nuns told me off for speaking in my voice
To get to Cambridge I must Me erase
Now I is a foreigner down ‘ere
No Mam ,no evil nuns ,no wicked sneers
There’s a secret nuclear bunker ar the bottom of my street
It’s on the Ordnance Survey Map along with flocks of sheep
The other one’s in Essex near Brentwood says the sign
Dont get on a train just yet, it’s not the Central Line
Are they for the Government or for my neighbours near?
Who is going to drop a bomb and escalate the fear?
Why d’ye think our tax goes up Boris drugs the goats
He’s building his own bunker now, with a private moat
If the bunker’s secret, who’s it hiding from?
Who can’t yet read English, but knows best how to stun
Is it Meghan Markle or little Lilibet?
Or someone quite invisible who makes the neighbours sweat
Should we all dig trenches and say we grow our spuds?
Either way this is the end,I feel it in my gut
What is life to me without Tea
What s left when you eat buns
With no wife
Who’d brew tea
What is left when she won’t agree?
What is satire when I’m stupid
I pick the pods off the lupins
What is strife
Strive errant Cupid
What is weft when warp is dud
What’s an oak when we’re flaccid
Eating apples full of acid
Who is broken
When the wheel has spoken
I may as well feel kind of placid
What is poetry to a pheasant
Being shot is pleasant
What is emotion
In our maddened Nation
Now we realise we are indecent
I feel soft ghostly hands around my throat That want to pull me to the darkest deep My husband cannot leave or be remote He wishes me to join him in his sleep. I shall resist for I desire to live Though blind now are my hours without his face. I have no more I hope to give Since he withdrew from me his kind embrace. As lonely as a swan without its mate. As tired as swallows after they migrate I must accept my unconsoled fate I'll not accept this be a constant state. From my loss I shall recover when The birds return and summer comes again
I have spent a hundred nights alone
No face to greet me when my dreams depart
No comfort from the warmness of your arm
I hear your key but it’s a false alarm
A tear runs down my face and then more start
I have spent a thousand nights alone
A river with no bridge nor stepping stone
This water which keeps lovers late apart
No comfort from the warmness of an arm
I see you are now dust, where are your bones?
Where eyes to show me when you are contrite
I have spent ten thousand nights alone
In the night you prayed for all who groan
You smiled when I once spoke of future life
What comfort could I bring to the Unknown?
I shall find a way to carry on
I will find the secrets and the light
I accept a million nights alone
When we were joined , who knew when we would part?
I am left with fragments of a heart
I have spent so many nights alone
Give me comfort ,take me in your arms
Katherine March 7, 2017
The world is exists but I just wish to flee
The flowers come into bud but I can’t see.
The birds have built their new small nests again
Birds forget, but memory feeds our pain.
When I get trapped inside this mud black silt
I forget the tools my mind has lately built
Again it feels eternal and unkind
The sorrowing fills the endless realms of mind.
The mind helps us to mediate and muse
We need it to give weight to different views
But inwardness can build up dangerous walls
We lose ourselves in shadow and may fall.
The life within us will rise up again
If we can accept our mental pain.
I so loved your beautiful
coat of many colours
I almost passed out
Other women made such
I knew it would be hidden
You wore a cheap mac from
A large chainstore after that
Depriving my eyes of drowned joy
And then I became afraid
Of women’s tongues
Destroying what they never found
Envy does not want to like
Colours of dawn or sunset
Wants others grey and plain
Treads on their bare faces
Do read this interesting article by David J Rogers