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That’s Life

The bubbles of wealth
used to rise in the glass
and tingle on my lips.
The label that I wore with verve
Skimmed lightly cross my hips

Hair in fashionable disarray
I’d sashay round the town
always remembering to cross my knees
whenever I sat down

I was finished y’know in Switzerland.
I folded napkins there
and learnt to act in a modest way
That behove a lady fair

In scarlet I went hunting
And found myself a beau
Not the handsomest of gentlemen
But he did have a chateau

I bathed in foreign sunshine
and royalty were friends
But it was just illusion
And soon the summer ends

And now its only tea
That’s sipped from paper cups
No more the trips to Henley
or Badminton or such

Gold has now turned silver
and my hips are not my own
and should I try to cross my knees
I’d likely break a bone

 

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The Great Wall, China

You’ve seen photos, watched documentary’s about them, read the books, bought the tee-shirt, but some places just have to be experienced to feel their full impact. We travelled quite widely in China and saw some truly spectacular and wonderful sights that I will never forget, but the one that, completely and unexpectedly,  blew me out of the water was the Great Wall. You might say ‘one wall is much the same as another’ believe me, it’s not.

The majesty of it’s extraordinary steep sweep, like a brush stroke across the landscape, is breathtaking. Knowing it’s gruesome history makes it even more so.  We visited in February, during the New Year festival (an astonishing not-to-be-missed event), it was unbelievably cold, with a biting wind blowing across. It did mean it was a beautifully clear day though, so we could see for miles.

It is impossible to capture it fully in a photograph, but I was particularly pleased with this photograph of my friend Gill.  I loved the way her coat is billowing out and that she looks completely alone (she wasn’t of course),and I think the photo does, just about, conveys the sense of just how bloomin’ steep it was!

Great Wall, China

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The Secret

The secret of life said the woman, is to behave
in a way that is generally thought of as good.
To be careful of word and kind in thought,
and never get overwrought
about things that do not matter

The secret of life said the man, is to be strong
and brave and bawdy.To treat others
with authority and boldness,
and always win the fights
you choose to engage in.

The secret of life said the child, is to cry
when needy and cry when sad.
To be happy with small things like
paper and sand.To not become
emotionless or overbearing,

the secret of life is to not grow old.

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The Marriage

Her, with her white-veiled smile, looking up at me.
Him, with his unlikely carnation. Shifty eyed.
The football-shirted pageboy,
flanked by two pink princesses,
sulkily kicks an invisible ball

The mum and dad wouldn’t come.
Too young, they said through tearful, pleading eyes.
I pray to god to bless this union,
Though secretly my heart despairs.
Friends cheer as they briefly kiss

Back down the aisle in the meringue inspired, empire-line dress
To the waiting limousine,
Back to the waiting council house clothes,
and the soon-to-be occupied nursery.
To the terraces of silent acceptance.

Five kids and many beatings later,
before she’s even 40, I’ll see her again in white robes.
Nicotine stained fingers betraying her killer
as surely as any pathology could
Friends sigh, and turn their faces, as she glides away

 

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Not Quite Poetry

Every day I use my time
Writing poetry line by line,
Sometimes I can make it rhyme,
Sometimes, I can’t.

My head is full of tum te tums
When I just want to write
The serious stuff on big long lines
like proper poets might

The words come out as simple ones
Not intelligent, or deep,
Nor contemplative trains of thought
that make the reader weep

Poetically inclined I’m not
It doesn’t really matter
I’ll just keep writing day by day
And maybe I’ll get batter er..better