Poems

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Poetry by Bern.

This Poem was written by me after a few years of the Parkinson's disease. It is meant to be an encouragement to all fellow PWP's (People with Parkinson's) Freezing does not mean that one is cold it means a complete blocking of all the muscles in the body.


Parkinson's. 1987

It started off my back did ache,

Then my hands began to shake.

My legs are heavy like lumps of lead,

Then a slight shaking of my head.

With eyes on the ground and head bent low,

Faster and faster, I did go.

Drinking tea from out of a cup,

Sitting down or getting up.

Writing a letter or signing my name,

To me now it is all the same.

Everything seems filled with pain.

It will not get better, this I know,

For Doctor Parkinson, tells me so.

So, If I freeze or shake a lot,

Please do not rush me , better not.

if I fall flat upon my face,

Pick me up it's no disgrace.

I'm not crazy when I look,

Like some character from out of a book.

When I dribble like a child,

My face a mask like something wild.

Please do not think that I am insane,

It is just that Parkinson again.

in my own inimitable way,

I take my tablets every day.

Sinemet and a lot more,

Better count them just to make sure.

When the Doctor say's to me,

You are doing well, That I can see.

I think my thoughts one by one.

With a lot of prayers for Parkinson.

When next you see me, Please don't stare,

Just look and smile, I know you care.

Do not try to help me, Let me be,

For Parkinson does not bother me.

When my voice is very low,

It won't get louder, I'll have you know.

So listen carefully when I am spouting,

My whisper to you is really shouting.

As I type every day in the two old finger way.

My thoughts stray back though the years,

Trying to sort out all my fears.

Is it something that I have done,

That has given me this Parkinson.

So Dear reader, if you suffer too,

My only words of advice to you.

Get up and about, don't sit and mope,

Trust in God , Don't give up hope.

For one day there will surely be,

A cure for you and a cure for me.

Diagnosis

You have Parkinson's I heard the Doctor say,

Was he talking to me as he looked the other way.

Of course I did not believe him, who would,

So I went to another Doctor as I thought I should.

I tried not to shake or nod my weary head,

I tried not to think of what the other Doctor said.

He told me to cross the floor to the other side of the room,

Turn round and come back, this really sealed my doom.

With hesitating steps I toppled on the way,

I re-crossed the room to hear what he had to say.

Lay yourself down on the couch and close your eyes,

Now move your index finger to your nose, I had another surprise.

My hand did not obey me at least not straight away,

Why the heck I hesitated, I really cannot say.

He told me to pull some faces but my face muscles had no power,

I was shaking all over in the space of one short hour.

Now shake both hands held out at arms length,

I shook my right hand my left had no strength.

He asked me many questions, I answered as best I could,

My soft voice betrayed me, as I knew it would.

You have Parkinson's, I am sorry to have to say,

I still did not believe this but he eventually had his way.

He sent me into hospital just for observation,

I now fell apart much to my consternation.

I fought against this monster, I as stubborn as a mule,

Until I learned to accept then I felt really cool.

But I was a fool for feeling so cocky bold,

As I was quickly shown that Parkinson has its hold.

Spell after spell in the hospital of my choice,

With logopaedy training to strengthen up my voice.

Depressions came a long it was a bitter blow,

Thinking thoughts that no-one ought to know.

Years passed, hospitals were becoming part of my life.

Pain came and went after cutting like a knife.

A new drug, SINEMET is its name,

Life is much better after taking of the same.

In all my sixteen years of living with this thing,

I truly had some one that made my heart to sing.

A care giver my lovely lady wife,

Always cheerful, caring, she has saved my life.

When I am down in the dumps, depressed,

Who’s loving hands help me to get dressed.

She bathes me, she feeds me, sees to my every need,

Shaving me, caressing me, a Care-Giver indeed.

If there is ever a cure, I am sure that it will come,

I will ever praise her for all of the work she has done.

Now to finish off my tale of my Parkinson shakes,

Let the cure come quickly for all our Parky sakes.

A Parkie's Day.

Take my tablets pull myself out of bed,

As usual my feet are like lumps of lead.

Stagger to the bathroom my bladder very full,

Wait for the relief as I feel the well-known pull.

Have a good hot shower to take the stiffness away,

Ready for my breakfast to start another day.

My Lady Wife has shaved me to make me look smart,

This is when my shakes threaten to pull me apart.

I feel very tempted to take another Sinemet,

But I won't give in, at least not yet.

Start the computer read my e-mail post,

This is what I like doing the most.

Other Parkies have written to me,

Makes me feel like part of the family.

I read of compassion and the feelings of care,

That the other Parkies want with me to share.

If there is anything that I need to know,

Advice will come my way and I feel a warm glow.

Pains in my neck and also in my back,

Sometimes so many that I begin to lose track.

With my walking stick clutched tightly in my hand,

I totter down the street, my face trying to look bland.

At our favourite coffee shop we order coffee and cake,

They kindly give me a straw, as they know my hands will shake.

Then back home to prepare for the midday lunch,

With the soft kinds of vegetables, that I can slowly munch.

My lovely Lady Wife cooks those things that I like to eat,

Shaking hands struggle to fork that pre cut meat.

After lunch I go off to my bed to have a little sleep,

The stiffness and pain make me want to weep.

Then another Sinemet, wait until it takes affect,

Hoping that there will be no bad after-effect.

Then we have our tea and discuss the daily news,

And other little things such as buying some new shoes.

Take my evening tablets dreading a sleepless night,

My lovely lady hugs and cuddles to me up tight.

With a bit of luck I drop off to sleep.

With my prayers said for all the people that I know,

Wait for the morning light that comes ever so slow.

On to another day with Parkinson in my way,

How I wish for my youth when life was just play.

Spiritual Guidance.

I prayed for spiritual guidance a long time ago,

Nothing seemed to happen I thought I’d let you know.

I looked for signs everywhere to where I went on earth,

It was as if the Devil himself was at my very birth.

I saw no Angels no miracles were in sight,

I thought that Lucifer was holding me awfully tight.

Strange things kept happening just to little old me,

He above it seemed had decided to let me strictly be.

I was disappointed and went no more to Church,

For I thought that he on high had left me in the lurch.

I was very bitter and full of ugly despair,

What was to become of me if he above did not care?

Then on one fateful day in the early spring,

 I passed the local school and heard the children sing.

The sweet childish voices sang a well-known hymn,

“All things bright and beautiful, all creatures great and small,”

The children were confident that he had made them all.

The simple belief that came from those childish voices,

Showed me the signs and now my soul rejoices.

My life changed I now had my spiritual peace,

My want for guidance took on a real new lease.

I see the small things such as the wild flowers,

Each in itself a miracle, I had developed many new powers.

Creatures large and small I see every day,

Birds in the sky fly surely on their way.

There were miracles all around me,

My eyes were blind I did not see.

Sweet children’s voices opened up my stony heart,

I now see his works everywhere and it is but just the start.

The Bell.

The bell does toll yet once again,

An age-old message in a simple refrain.

Some soul has departed this earthly sphere,

To meet with loved ones no longer here.

We who remain shed tears of sorrow,

One loved one less on the bitter morrow.

We who are left should be pleased to know,

That Heaven awaits them with its Angelic glow.

Humans are born every single day,

Some are destined for a very short stay.

Others live a long life fulfilled,

Until their voices too are deadly stilled.

The man with the scythe awaits us all,

So live be happy and have a ball.

Be your life short or be it long,

Take it all as it comes along.

The bell will toll its old refrain,

Over and over and over again.

In A Shoe.

There was an old woman, who lived in a shoe,
She had so many children that she did not know what to do.
This story has come down through the ages,
Strange but her name is not in the yellow pages.
Was it the fact that she lived in a shoe?
Or had so many children, I have not a clue.
How did she feed all those hungry young mites?
It must have kept her awake most of her nights.
Was she helped by the local peoples around?
Did the Farmers help with crops from the ground?
Who was the father of all these offspring?
From him we know nothing, no not a thing.
Clothing for her children was a problem to be solved.
How many other helping hands were involved?
The whole story is a mystery to me and to others,
Were the children all hers or did they have different mothers?
So many questions with hardly any answers,
Was the old woman one of life’s chancer's?
Or was she really an old woman that lived in a shoe?
I cannot tell but how about you.

MEN OF STRAW.

They stand in fields of golden corn,
Those men of straw that birds do scorn.
Placed there by farmers to protect the seed,
Ragged and tattered, dire in need.
Forgotten by all the world it seems,
With no-one to share their lonely dreams.
In rain and snow, wind and gale,
Theirs is a sorrowful piteous tale.
No friendly words of compassion or care,
At best a contemptuous unheeding stare.
In the cold and dark of the night,
Who will have pity on their terrible plight.
Summer and Autumn, Winter and Spring,
Is there no-one your praises to sing.
Men of straw your duties are done,
But retirement for you, a place in the sun.
No this cannot be for you are of straw,
Man was never grateful, that is for sure.
So as to pieces you fall, into morbid decay,
My thanks are yours as you wither away.
Bernard Shaw.

Speed Of Light.

While travelling at the speed of light,
Passengers and crew see a most beautiful sight.
Suns, Moons and comets  rushing by,
Causing many an astronaut to sigh.
My wish is to be among the elite
Taking part in this great Feat.
Starting off as Cabin Boy,
Rising to Captain much to my joy.
Photon engines surging with power,
Pushing on the ship hour by hour.
What are we doing here in space,
Looking for Aliens or some strange race.
Mankind's old dream come true at last.
As suns and moons go rushing past.
Come let us all join in the quest.
The first to greet that Alien Guest.

 

Lonely Child.

As a child I played all on my own,
The other children left me all on my own.
I was too small for them you see,
No one wanted to play with me.
Playing with my marbles I sometimes did cheat,
I was now a champion, which was quite some feat.
Expert I was at making bows and arrows,
I often shot at the cheeky brown sparrows.
I always missed for they were too fast,
Sometimes I hit a telegraph mast.
I then tried my luck with a skipping rope,
Not being very good I managed to cope.
I tried my hand at whip and top,
But once again I was just a flop.
Hop scotch I tried without success,
In fact I was just one awful mess.
With one boy I played pitch and toss,
Needless to say I was not the big boss.
I collected cigarette cards for a while,
Then I lost them I could not smile.
In school we played a game of leapfrog,
Me I was once again the underdog.
It is not very nice to play on your own,
And I waited so hard until I had grown.

Shopping.

My wife was feeling poorly so I went to the local shop.

When I saw the prices my heart went hoppity hop.

The price of bread was sky high not to mention cake.

I was beginning to become angry someone was on the make.

The Government said inflation is very, very low,

Strange that not one of the shopkeepers seemed to dam well know.

I stopped at the Butchers to buy a piece of steak,

Some where along the line someone knew the right price to make.

Sugar, Butter, Milk have risen overnight,

Someone is earning on another’s plight.

Even the lowly Sardine is now exceedingly dear,

Who can we complain to? Who will lend an ear?

Inflation is making half the population poor,

One day soon the Nation will have to pay the score.

The rich are getting richer and poverty raises it’s ugly head,

How can the middlemen sleep soundly in a feather bed?

If I were young and fit I would start a campaign,

To bring the prices of foods down once again.

The rising transport costs of keeping the shops supplied.

Is something that the Government cannot truly hide.

The Farmer is paid a very low price,

It is the middlemen that take the largest slice.

My lovely Wife is confronted nearly every day,

With rising costs that we can hardly pay.

Politicians please tell the truth about inflation,

At the next election you will have to deal with the Nation.

No more promises that you know you will not keep,

And stop this inflation before it rises too steep.

 

THE STOKER.

Yes Eighty pounds of Steam we need,
So shovel that coal, Till your hands bleed.
Open the Dampers, Open them wide,
Let the Fans roar get draught inside.
Coal shall burn until it is Slack,
You will shovel to break your back.
Two thousand patients, Perhaps a few more,
In this hospital of ours that's a small score.
So Stoker shovel till the Hi Lo's blow,
Keep the pumps going the water is low.
Take up your rake pull the clinker out,
Quick with that barrow the fires going out.
The Laundry is complaining there is no steam,
You haven't got time to stand and dream.
In the ward the Patients are having a bath,
But you in your dirt haven't time to laugh.
In the kitchen they're busy cooking the dinner,
So give them that Steam you miserable sinner.
In the operating theatre the Surgeons skill,
Can save a patient with your good will.
But he needs that steam, You Mothers son,
So get on that shovel let the sweat run.
Eighty pounds to the square inch, no more,
Throw in that coal let the fires roar.
Run you poor devil there's no time to walk,
The clarifier needs salting to get rid of the chalk.
Put on the kettle, time to brew up,
Eat a quick Sandwich, have a sweet cup.
Then back to those fires, Shovel those coals,
For depending on you over two thousand souls.

 

Out To Play.

My Mum said I could go out to play,

She told me not to wander away.

So I went out with some of the boys.

We had great fun playing with their toys.

Along came some little girls,

We teased them about their curls.

Then it was time for me to return,

Back home I had my homework to learn.

For tomorrow another day at school,

I did not want to be thought a fool.

So with books and pen and paper white,

I wrote an essay about the Roman might.

Julius Caesar on the coast of France.

Invaded England I was in a trance.

The words flowed quickly from my pen,

I had read this story again and again.

I added information here and there,

Like the town of Londinium fair.

The road he built called the Roman Way,

Then up to Scotland for a short stay.

Later Hadrian built a massive wall,

For the Scots invaded over all.

Peace came to England for a while,

The Romans had fought fiercely for every mile.

Later the Normans in ten sixty six AD,

Slew king Harold it had to be.

From that time on aggressors have tried,

To capture England and break her pride.

For my essay I was praised by my teacher,

She gave me good marks I had finally reached her.

The next time Mum says that I can go out to play,

I will take my books so as not to waste a day.

As Empty As My Head.

This page is as empty as my head,

I will fill it with the books I have read.

When I was young I read everything that I could,

From Robinson Crusoe on to Robin Hood.

I read about Cowboys and the Last of the Mohicans,

The Water Babies and Marc Twain the American.

I went on to higher realms Shakespeare, Blake and Shelley.

Sometimes I was so immersed that I quivered like jelly.

Then I was introduced to the Bible New Testament and Old,

I was so fascinated at all of the stories being told.

Genesis the first chapter in the book told of the beginning.

I read all of the stories my head was soon spinning.

David the wisest King of all the Jews,

Wrote the book of Psalms it was something new.

Other books then came my way I read them all.

History that told of the Roman’s rise and fall.

Now I read Newspapers and very much verse,

I take from my computer poems to rehearse.

Occasionally I still read a book or two

I am a man that likes reading, How about you?

Winter.

Winter’s dirge is coming fast,

Nature is at peaceful rest.

Three long months it will last,

Mankind is put to the test.

Wind and icy gales will blow,

Snow covers the waiting ground.

Streams end their restless flow,

All will be white around.

A hard trying time for all,

 Competing with winter’s force.

Long hours until spring’s call,

Urging nature at its source.

As winter came so shall it go,

Young shoots covering all in green.

Streams will surely gently flow,

And the air will again be clean

Cursed Cop.

So you cursed the cop that stopped you while speeding,

He spoiled your day with a monetary fine.

At an earlier accident he helped the causalities that were bleeding,

He got them all to a hospital just in time.

That Cop was doing his duty you know,

He has seen all kinds of crime and criminals too.

To be helpful at an accident he is not slow,

What’s more he has more than enough other work to do.

Family quarrels where violence prevails,

Faces of young children filled with fear.

I won’t go into the gory horrible details,

But it is that very same Cop that is called do you hear?

Rules are made by Governments and courts,

The Cop has to see that they are obeyed.

His is a job filled with dangers fraught,

He is always on the look out sometimes with nerves that are frayed.

So don’t curse the Cop that is obeying the law,

Be polite perhaps it is your life the next to be saved.

Give him credit for a job well done for sure,

An ordinary cop you are deep in his debt for you his life he braved.

Death.

Death I know that you are near,

My time is coming to an end.

I will soon be in my seventy-second year,

Perhaps you me an ear can lend.

Know that I have no fear,

Just a plea that you take me fast.

Lingering a slow painful death do you hear,

Will make me curse you with full blast.

Yours is not the best of work,

With a scythe that is never still.

I sense that you are not the one to shirk,

You will take me at your will.

Do not creep in silently when you come for me,

I will surely for you hold still.

Just do it fast remember my plea,

For I know that you will have your kill.

It is just as well if it has to be me.

Childish Memories.

It all comes back to me down the ages,

A child awake listening to the tick of a clock.

My troubled mind my fitful rages,

The sound of a key turning in a lock.

Twenty boys in a dormitory large,

Beds neatly arranged in rows.

A woman vicious and in charge,

Dealing out deftly savage blows.

Tears running silently down my cheeks,

No peace for an unhappy mind,

Terror that lasted unending weeks,

With never a word that was kind.

From the age of three until I was eight,

Violence ruled my unhappy days.

I was ever in a stage of hate,

With my mind turning in a terrible craze.

I was classified as a troublemaker,

Me a child mental grim and upset.

Some one to love me there was no taker,

I was not the young boy to pet.

At the age of nine war was declared,

I was evacuated to a peaceful town.

For a family life I was not prepared,

And my hatred let me once more down.

I was placed with families that were kind,

My upbringing had left me suspicious.

I could not regain my peace of mind,

So I remained a child quite vicious.

Then came the day that I was kindly received,

Made welcome in a family that was normal.

It was here that I finally perceived,

That love was something not formal.

I settled down at last my mind at rest,

I enjoyed the privilege of having a home.

Here in this family I gave of my best,

I had found that love is not just foam.

Dreadful Ban.

Many are stricken with poverty through no fault of their own,

Hardships, Hunger and homelessness are rampant once again.

Here the seeds of criminality are sewn,

They have nothing to loose and very little to gain.

Begging stealing committing of crime,

A life of lawlessness yet again begins.

Thousands will in prisons serve a long time,

With many repenting of their sins.

No one but no one it seems is to blame,

Nearly all are condemned to a life behind bars.

Let us try to kindle another flame,

To help them find a way to the stars.

Give them the chance to win back personal pride,

Find them work when their sentences are done.

So that they have no need their faces to hide,

Or even worse to continually be on the run.

They too are members of mankind,

Poverty was not of their choosing.

In each and every one we will find,

Another Soul that is tired of loosing.

"Turn the other cheek," Jesus said,

Try to help them whenever you can

Give, if it is only a loaf of bread,

Help them break that dreadful ban.

Vagabond.

They called me a Vagabond,

But I was a King of the Road.

My word was a solemn bond.

I was not the man to goad.

Free as the air I went on my way,

My head held high for all to see.

I worked on farms for very low pay,

It was just enough to keep me free.

Luxury I had foresworn it was just a bubble,

Fresh air, Nature’s beauty was all I craved.

To make a bed of ferns was no trouble,

My day dreams my sanity saved.

If you ever meet a King of the Road,

A vagabond he may well be.

Know that he would not change his load,

For he is a free man just like me.

Disagree.

You may disagree with what I say,

But say it I will in my own sweet way.

It might be something that I will regret,

Then you will not ever let me forget.

Words I know must be evenly weighed.

Dictators have crowds in their favour swayed.

In future I will be careful what I say.

Just in case I hurt someone on the way.

Sometimes words cross my lips so fast,

I do not know whether in the present tense or past.

If only I could stop the flow that gushes out,

And not feel disappointed and wanting to shout.

When all has been said and my mouth is still,

Then perhaps my speaking will show my good will.

So please if you must disagree on what I say,

Break it to me gently I do you pray.

Smoking.

If only I could give up smoking,

I am sure it would make my day.

No! I really am not joking,

If only I could have my way.

I started off with twenty,

Alas it did not stop there.

You might say that it was plenty,

And more than my fair share.

I was caught in this habit vicious,

It soothed the craving from within,

Strange I never found smoking delicious.

And I find no sense therein.

I have made up my mind to smoke no more,

And have thrown my cigarettes away.

More money is in my pocket for sure,

And that is the way it will stay.

Faces.

In my garden I have spent many happy hours,

Gazing in rapture at all the pretty flowers.

I tell myself that all the flowers have a face,

And all of these faces belong to the human race.

The flowers I sewed from special seeds,

I tended them carefully seeing to their needs.

The flowers grow up against the garden wall,

Many were little others quite tall.

All the faces were of children I know,

It was wonderful seeing them all grow.

Children, children everywhere I look,

Some are playing others intently looking in a picture book.

All are happy this I can plainly see,

From all the glowing faces looking at me.

Then I awoke from this beautiful dream,

And marvelled at all the happy faces I had seen.

Shops.

The shops are filled with wonderful things,

Such as flamboyant puppets on long strings.

Computers too are up for sale,

With laptops instead of the Holy Grail.

Toys in nearly every shop,

Make the children involuntary stop.

Grocery emporiums full of good food,

I often linger when I am in the mood.

Clothiers where one can buy the latest mode,

But could I wear them outside my place of abode.

Then there are pubs that sell spirits and beer,

These are for those that are full of good cheer.

I have not mentioned the bakers shop,

Fresh bread and cakes make me want to stop.

Last but not least the Ice Cream Palace,

Flavours to suit the most delicate of palettes.

I love to wander around my hometown,

There is nothing here that can get me down.

Each shop is full of the most wonderful things,

That please my eyes and make me want to sing.

Summer’s Day.

A deep blue sky on a summer’s day,

Is for me a blessing in every way.

I find time to sit and dream on my own.

To be thankful for my lovely wife and home. 

For my neighbours who always greet,

As I go walking down my street.

Children give me happiness and pleasure,

As I listen to them playing at their leisure.

Insect, birds and bright foliage on the trees.

These small delights do me also please.

An aeroplane flying high in the sky,

Is something to send my spirits high.

I sometimes take with me a favourite book,

Enjoying the peace as through the pages I look.

The simple things of this my life on earth,

Make me happy and fill me with mirth.

So please sit out under a deep blue summer sky,

And wait for the pleasures tocome by.

Then you too will have good cause to say,

What a wonderful restful summer’s day.

Word Play.

I am a man that plays with words.

Words that we use every day.

To rhyme with words I use the term birds.

Just for something to say.

It’s not very difficult to make words rhyme.

Try it for something to do.

I myself rhyme all of the time.

To me it is nothing new.

Sometimes rubbish comes from my brand new pen.

I shrug it off with a grin.

Like most things new one must try again.

All of them one cannot win.

Just try your hand at playing with words.

See if you can make them rhyme.

You can use words or birds or even herds,

The thing is to rhyme all the time.

Pearls Of Sweat.

Pearls of sweat running down my face,

And the heat from the fires glow.

I wished I were in some place else,

But there was nowhere else to go.

The boiler was to me a demon out of hell,

Each hour a ton of coal to it I fed.

Insatiable greed with nothing to break the spell,

If only I could I would have fled.

Eight long hours of non-stop grind,

Steam I had to produce it was a must.

Easier work I could no-where find,

And to me this was unjust.

So I tended the boiler and produced the steam,

I tended the water pumps with care.

Life went by as in a nightmare dream,

I had no one my troubles to share.

A dirty job that I did well,

With pearls of sweat running down my face.

I seemed somehow to come out of my shell,

For here in the stokehold was my place.

Beautiful Song.

I heard you singing a most beautiful song,

It uplifted my spirits and carried me along.

I was transformed into an ecstasy phase,

You led me into an eternal patterned maze.

My heart pounded I was awake at last,

You slowed down my life that was going too fast.

The melodious sounds of music so sweet,

Soon had my fingers tapping out the beat.

Your music would soothe the most troubled breast,

I now knew that all would be for the best.

Please carry on singing your most beautiful song,

It has uplifted my heart and made me strong.

Child Play.

 

I see the children as they play,

The games I know so well.

I watch with delight every day,

As I listen to voices sweet as a bell.

 

The cheerful cries fill me with joy,

Smiling faces tell all is good.

My heart goes out to every girl and boy,

And I would play with them if I could.

 

From my armchair I watch in leisure,

Happy faces out side my window frames,

Yes I am content to see such pleasure

And wish that I could join in their games.

 

The children take me back to the old days,

When I was young and filled with esprit.

Now I can only sit here and gaze,

Thanking Heaven that I can still hear and see.

Evolution For Kids.

 

In the beginning Magma as in the broiling sun,

Then the Cosmic explosion, the Planets had begun.

Fiery balls of Matter thrown into Space,

With nothing but Gravity to hold them in place.

The long cooling process of the outer shell,

Millions of years went by a very short spell.

Gasses composed of Hydrogen, Oxygen, and Carbon dioxide,

Not even a tiny Microbe had a place to hide.

Fierce storms of thunder and lightning bold,

Getting the Planet ready as the Crust turned cold.

Gasses mixed together H2O and Water was born,

Water that nothing on this Earth could scorn.

Vast Seas and Oceans evaporating to cause rain,

Another Cycle of life without which all would be in vain.

The Earth shuddered the beginning of the early Earthquakes,

Torrential rains continually forming huge inland Lakes.

Meteorites hit the newly forming Earth,

Bringing from Outer space Spores that promised birth.

Slowly over millions of years of chaotic force,

Amoeba and plankton developed in due course.

Millions more years went slowly by,

With the light of the Sun filling the Earthly Sky.

Ferns and Trees of wondrous shapes,

Covered the Earth with their varied green capes.

Life developed in the Oceans, Primitive indeed,

Each individual one carrying the Evolutionary seed.

Then the Amphibians ventured onto the dry land,

Early forms of Creatures did ever expand

The Apes in the trees were very prolific,

Some ventured onto the ground and that was terrific.

From primitive Apes to modern man,

One very short step in Natures bounteous plan.

Civilizations following one after another until this very day,

Homo Sapiens or modern Man has come here to stay.

My Life.
I see my future I see my past,
Nothing is as it was it cannot last.
Ageing bones tired worn out flesh,
I am trapped in a finely spun mesh.
Shaky old hands that do not obey,
A voice that is weak; Do you hear what I say?
Tripling steps that want to run,
Going for a walk is no more fun.
A mouth that dribbles, No control,
Parkinson plays an ever-greater role.
Waiting for my tablets to help me along.
I am now a weakling no more the strong.
A "Jack Of All Trades," was once my boast,
Now I cannot even make myself some toast.
He has lost his will to fight,
I can hear you say it, It is not right.
I will fight until my last breath,
For I am not the kind of person to fear death.
Perhaps I will see a cure for Parkinson,
Then I will know I have had a good run.
I will balance the good against the bad,
A loving wife is what I have had.
She has accompanied me down the years,
Helped me when I shed my tears,
Not tears of self pity; Oh no,
Tears for hardships of friends that I know.
I have had one very happy life,
For I was blessed with a loving wife.
I always had work and earned a wage,
Went for trips never lived in a cage.
So I will be thankful for all of the good.
It is something I would share with you if I could.
As for the bad Parkinson and my old age,
Please bear with me if I sometimes rage.

Nicest Town.

The nicest town I have ever seen,

Is small compact and ever so clean.

Elizabethan houses built long years ago,

They had gracefully aged ever so slow.

Oak beams held the thatched roofs of straw,

One of the prettiest sights I ever saw.

A Pub named after a Horse and Plough,

Is the main attraction both then and now.

Beer is sold in a bright atmosphere,

The Hostess and Host are glad you are here.

Welcome is the motto of the house,

Husbands come and bring your spouse.

Drinks are sold to one and all,

Eleven of the clock is time for the last call.

For a quick beer or one for the road.

It helps to lighten a heavy load.

Yes the nicest town I have ever seen,

Is small compact and ever so clean.

Watery Grave.

 

Mine will be a watery grave,

I feel it in my bones.

Men will me in canvass sew,

And weigh me down with stones.

 

Placed on a plank of Oak,

My body will slip overboard.

Seawater my bones will cloak,

As I go to meet my Lord.

 

The Boatswain whistles, Men stand taught,

a tot of rum for all.

My life's not been for nought,

I followed the sea and it's call

 

My duty done I slip away,

Into the watery depths so deep,

Many a year I awaited this day,

My rendezvous with death to keep.

Fairy Temptations.

 

It was on one moonlit night,

I wandered along the seashore.

I witnessed a most peculiar sight,

Sheer fantasy is what I saw.

 

A pretty sweet young Mermaid,

Was lying on the sands.

I thought at first she prayed,

for she had crossed her hands.

 

But then I saw a Fairy beautiful to behold,

dressed in a royal gown spun from purest gold.

She spoke to the Mermaid with a melodious voice,

offering her three wishes of her own choice.

 

The Mermaid carefully listened then came her reply,

All the treasures of the ocean are mine.

On all the sea creatures I can safely rely,

food in the great oceans is for me to dine.

 

The most delicate of pearls are there for my taking,

as you see your three wishes I must deny.

For you it must be heartbreaking,

to hear this my solemn reply.

 

Then with a quick flip of her tail,

she swam off into the deep of the sea,

For the truth of this my tale,

you have my word and my guarantee

 

Children Playing.

The Children please me more each day.
I listen carefully to what they have to say.
Innocence shines from out of their eyes.
Happy indeed are their sweet joyful cries.
Playing games, new to my enquiring mind.
All of their obvious joys my senses do bind.
Happiness fills my old heart with glee.
I find them all to be the best of company.
I watched them playing together in the snow.
Faces shone in a most beauteous glow. 
Snow men they built they worked as a team.
I thought for a Poem a wonderful theme.
Sadly each had to go back to its home.
This left me miserable and feeling alone.
Tomorrow I look forward to children's voices,
I feel my old heart as it wildly rejoices.
If you get the chance to see children all at play.
Look and be happy for it will make your day.

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