When you lock yourself safely into your house at night, it may be worth considering whether the police or  paramedics can get in if you fall or are ill
What gives us safety might give us other problems.

I am  amused by some of my neighbours who come uo to me and say they were worried they had  not seen me for 6 weeks…. why not ring my bell? Why not phone.

I have cured the bacon
Was it flu?
I have laid the table
Where?
I have raised the bread
How high?
I have simmered with rage
Don’t boil over
I have been green with envy and now I am pale withe fear
Try pink
I have boiled the hen’s eggs
How about the duck’s
I have killed the pig.
All by yourself?
I have seen some  jam tarts in the window.
Did you make any?
I baked the cook
What heat?
I have  burned the books
Was the fire low?
I have watered the lawn
With a hose?
I walked with a dog
To where
I miaowed with a cat
Come off it
I am waiting for  the Messiah
So what’s new?

https://www.stayonyourfeet.com.au/home/over60/what-if-i-do-fall/get-up-off-the-floor/

Our mingled maps  of  mind   may mangle  fate

1.The patient was doing well until the Consultant came round  when he fell out of bed and broke his skull
Cause of death:Fear of doctors and hospitals in general

2. This  charming lady refused to undress for three days until she got rigor mortis

Cause of death:Immobility and refusal to breathe

3. The patient caught brain fever  from thinking too much,

Cause of death: His IQ should have been lowered years ago.

4.This man was asking for a bit of peace so we left him outside on the verandah,No Notes left.He died  from fear of darkness and loneliness  yet he had panic attacks on the ward

5.This lady wrote so much we were about to refer her to  a psychiatrist.She died  frome excitement when Penguin offered her a three book cotract.The doctor has had a nervous breakdown instead of her.

https://www.techopedia.com/7/29722/security/what-is-the-difference-between-security-and-privacy

Deep green meadow rough
Mole hills  make the ground lumpy
The dog ecstatic

Sun  caresses bare trees
The trees have no leaves yet
It’s not even Spring

Why is it so hot?
We can eat outside today
Though the sun is low

Snow and ice are gone
No fog or frosted evergreens
We feel happy but………

Sorry I can’t answer the phone

I am  dumb
I speak another language
I hate talking
I am in a bad temper
My bed has no legs on it
The cat is dying
The dog has emigrated
My husband is too angry with me.
I went out and  have not got back yet
I am  synthetic
I love God  but not man.
I want my husband to do something and he won’t wash up so it’s the phone.
Why not write a letter?
No, I am not the Government aide
Leave your phone  number and I’ll work out your horoscope
I am dumb and can’t spell
If you are deaf please  hang up now

The season of late winter is so bright

Sun so hot the sparrows build their nests

The silver birches trunks are gaudy white

A pair of swans   are  handsome in their flight

As if to send a message ,to insist

The season of  late winter is now bright

To our dark-used eye a brilliant sight

As sparrows wonder whether to resist

The silver birches trunks are gaudy white

Beetles wander, warm with appetite

Have no  warning system, future test

The season of late winter  silver bright

How humble are we humans towards this might

Nature is not altered by the Fist

The Silver Birches trunks uncanny, white

As in  golden  dreams would  Flowers kiss

No frogs croak, no snakes  should bite or hiss

The season of late winter is  so bright

The silver birches trunks boast gaudy white

The new Messiah will fly on a great horse
A burning stallion arched with perfect grace
As he crosses Europe he perceives
The scattered remnants of his fellow Jews

Now we go out in pyjamas
We wear suits and ties in the bed
I think it is odd
But I am not God
I  enjoy wearing dark red

We wear  our nighties as dresses
Frocks are not legal, you see
My husband is charming
I find him alarming
Give me a good cup of tea,

We wear our legs bare in the winter
For we come from the land of the Tyne
We are as hard as nails
Telling folks fairy tales
All in olde English and rhyme

When we get old, we go fishing
We hope to get buried at sea
Push  us all overboard
If  you feel  Geordie’s bored
Give him a hot cup of tea

As for the young they are angry
They cannot do any old trade
The Steelworks, the coal mines
Where Grandad did overtime
Now nothing useful is made

Consett and Hexham and Durham
The Cathedrals, the coal and the  rail
We used to  go hitch hike
Before we got’t motor bike
I married a North Eastern male.

Now he has gone, I am lonesome
I only have   doctors to see
They take my blood from me
X ray me merrily
Send me some olde Yorkshire tea.

I  think we have Guardian angels
Who watch us in horror and shame
The lust and the  hot rage
The lies on the front page
This  Satan is us,we’re to blame

I stood on a nail…. then went quite pale
I had a tetanus injection…. await resurrection
Antibiotics in Boots….colour my roots.
Bought lots of socks——vanity mocks
These are bamboo…..they match my right shoe
Elastoplast sucks…..gin on the rocks
I feel somewhat weary… my  eyes are all bleary
Now I shall rest…. I don’t want a test.
Let the MPs resign… they won’t tow my line!
Corbyn  is Satan—–What a creation.
Where are the good…. in  yonder wood?
My toe seems to ache…..tea and some cake

We’re falling over the edge—-Weird selling  our bridge
I love beef stew——-On a canoe?
Where is the exit?…….Noone can fix it.
What is the time? ……Drop me a line
I hate the theatre————Prefer a concerto
Rabbits look gentle….. Bob  is my uncle
What is  infinity?…….Don’t be so pernickety
What is an infinitesmal………..That is too small and dismal
I read a  novel…..What, in your hovel?
I borrowed the book….Sorrow  rebukes
Where is my lover?……Care makes men hover
I want to draw cats……What if they’re flat?
My duty is done…Salons are fun
Brexit means death…..The exit’s a path
The white cliffs of Dover………don’t cite the weaver
England is horrible………….Finland  is charitable

Remarkable is how the celandine  glows so yellow
Under the  old apple tree, while it’s still winter
And remarkable is how the world is continues
Its green springness despite our  violence
Except for France and the old battlefields
Men trodden into mud like worthesss old coats
And the poppies weeping red  across the green
And the ghosts standing at the edge
The shadows of dawn
Oh,Europe, do you not weep for them
And the citizens of Stalingrad
They died for us.

Did we think the War was over?
And how the starved Jews wandered homeless
If they had survived at all
Remarkable  is our ignoring the time to come
The shadows of these wars and genocides
The gay men thought evil.Alan Turing?

Ironical is the  blindness of the leaders
Giving no thought except they had “won”
We lost the Empire .Say it again
We lost the Empire, we can’t go back.
Britain is just a little island.
We can’t have “things as they were”
It was the rich who won
The eye of the needle is no larger
But the path is broad.

Only when we learn  the alphabet
And with a pencil trace the letters form
Do we break the words from their music

Murmured sweetness from a mother’s lips
Continuously we take in feelings warm
Do we need to learn  an alphabet?

Later we take words in little sips
Hoping to remember, not to harm
Can we slash the words from their music?

Even the miaowing of a cat
Seems like  living speech to  babes in arms
Do we need to learn  an alphabet?

We must accept  our language, that is that
We can’t invent a new  one all alone
But do not  part the words from their music

The human world is built up stone by stone
Leaving   here  a  project we can hone
Only when we learn  the alphabet
Do we take the words from their music

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2016/jun/07/cerys-matthews-poetry-and-music-closely-think

“The Welsh word “cerdd” can be translated as either “verse” or “music”. It covers both meanings, because, as we know from history, when the great bards were performing their poetry it would be accompanied by music. The two were always intertwined and music, poetry, spoken word and performance have been a part of our society for centuries. The festivals called “eisteddfod” combine literature, music and poetry. These cultural competitions were not just for the rich or educated, but were held in pubs and other meeting places and brought everyone together. They are part of an oral tradition entrenched in Welsh society as it is in many other cultures, as diverse as the Somali tradition of oral storytelling or praise poetry in India and Pakistan.”

Underneath the  constant flow of thought
There is a space of quietness and of peace
Here love is free and nothing need be  brought

Here  the coloured fish swim in the night
In our dreams delight they find   release
Underneath the constant flow of thought

Visions vanish as the dawn brings light
Yet our image seeking does not cease
When love is free and nothing can be bought

Happy  not to ruminate nor fight
Just to be is Joy for man and beast
Underneath the constant flow of thought

We must not  seize the treasure all uncaught
We lose ourself in  living with the deep
Where love  is free and no good can be bought

We dry  our newborn eyes,  no one need weep
All we need is  shares as  holy feast
Underneath the constant flow of thought
Silent  love encloses deep delights

By Katherine

Mary dreamed she was riding her bicycle.She was going up a hill and then approaching a very complicated roundabout.
How can I look at the map when I am riding my bike,she asked herself.Anyway I don’t have a map and I’ve never been here before.She looked down and saw she was wearing some dark  blue denim culottes and red suede knee high boots with laces.
I don’t remember buying these,she thought.She felt quite hot even though she wore only an olive  needle-cord coat over a Breton T shirt.
Goodness me, she cried.I look smart.
Her spectacles clouded over as she was sweating.How will I know where to turn off when I don’t know where I am or where I am going to.
When she woke up she filled Stan’s beer tankard with tea.
What a lot of tea,miaowed Emile.
I thought it saves carrying the tea pot. I’m going to go back   to bed as I feel  a bit peculiar.
You  have got a fleece nightgown on.Maybe you are too hot,he replied.
I am trying to save money on the heating,Mary answered.I see I can save  even more money by buying 2 pairs of Hotters sandals for £97.Usually they are £127.
That saves £30,the clever animal informed her.
I think it’s quite misleading,Mary answered.I
t only saves money if you were already planning to buy them.I  have such strange feet I don’t like to bare them.
Do you wear shoes in bed with a boyfriend.Emile  asked.
I’ve not got a boyfriend.Emile.
But if you did?
Well.you know, an older man might not wish to go to bed with me.He might like just sitting on the sofa holding my hand and  kissing me.
OK said ,Emile.It sounds a trifle boring to me.
Don’t be so cheeky, Emile.Talking to me is not boring.
No, he said, but it’s nice running up and down your  legs in bed.
I could hardly expect a man to do  that.He might injure me.
It was just a kind of example,he replied nervously.
Suddenly the back door opened and in ran Annie from next door.She was wearing a mustard coloured track suit and orange trainers with matching lip gloss.
What a horrible colour,Mary cried.
It’s the in colour now,Annie said kindly.I am getting my hair dyed too.
Bright yellow is  better,Mary  told her.Except it attracts insects.
Insects,I don’t want those.How are you,dear.You look flushed, she responded emotionally.
No wonder. I’ve been cycling all night in my dreams.Why can’t I dream of motor bikes?
Don’t ask me,Annie told her.I am utterly ignorant.Do you need therapy?
I don’t think so,Mary answered.I need to know where I am going.Do I decide or is it my Inner Wisdom or Higher Power.I could use higher power on that bike.
Just take it one rotation at a time, Annie murmured.
I thought it was  one step.Mary answered
You can’t take a step on a  bike.
I suppose not.But I could ride up a step on the bike.
Don’t ride up a step ladder,Anne advised.How would  you get down again?
Let’s have some coffee,Mary cried.Here we are ,the kettle is boiling.
Let’s just sit and brood.
But don’t ruminate,purred Emile.It makes you ill.
Just let your mind go blank.
And so I did.

A steroid injection—- hysteria prevention
My knee is much looser— don’t tell your tutor
My hands  are less swollen—– my head has a hole in
I feel like some food—-I steal when I’m rude
Do you have a hot dinner— shave the lot,sinner
Where is my dessert—- share and be pert
Creme brulee is great— Hurrah with a mate
What is the matter— the blood stain is fatter
Do you like a knife—-speak like a wife
My husband’s in bed——-He’s robbing the dead
My pillow is soft—-Hey, fellow in  loft
What is the filling—- fat duck’s a shilling
Where is your throw—–Fair cop,I don’t know
Mine is electric——-Rhymes are just plastic
Design is now crucial————They lie,how unusual
The baby was born…. sound the ram’s horn.