I wish I’d given up the whole idea

Shakespeare’l muttered as he wrote king Lear.

Who am I to tell folks what to do.?

I’d rather be a cobbler mending shoes..

Who will want to read about bad luck

Choices foolish as the day they struck?

Why not give up thinking of good works.

Who will read the Bible else the Kirk?

I wonder why I taught myself to write

. Instead of having fun with something light.

There’s something other lives inside our soul

Its wishes are quite different from our own.

Giving up the gossip is good news

Giving up the likes and counting views.

The word of someone thoughtful counts far more

1000 views are no more than a score

When the sun is high and bright and strong
We feel that it will always be the same
But when we live on earth we know we’re wrong
And for that darkness we have got a name

Now in England we have lights and screens
We do not fear the dark,the devils’ night
But often in the winter we will dream
Of summer heat and places full of light

The steps at Aldeburgh where we saw the sea
The cliffs at Lyme and Charmouth in the spring
But from such places I dread memory
The pain of loss is hard and no child brings

Now the sky is lilac in the dusk
In creation I find what I trust

Oh, lidded kettle boil me water fast
I cannot live without your heated blast
Your spout is small but perfect for its use
And, as your lid is hinged. it can’t get lost

An electric kettle made by Russell Hobbs
A teapot with a spout and lid with knob
Are what the Britons need in times of storm
If crisis comes, we need tea hot,not warm

I don’t object to diverse kettle brands.
We had a coal fire once with kettle stand.
Its metal black from soot and burned by coke
We made our neighbours tea which seemed to smoke.

Ah,kettle ,instrument of civil life
We cannot boil our water on a knife