Poetry Blogs (elderly)
Minds mould cannot always bend to the will - Look!
A blur of surreal reality:
it’s vivid, a memory, a means
but travel through years
and maybe it’s a dream,
or the worst fear:
(for the youth with infantile stretch marks to hear)
For the youths with flat ironed flesh and barely dogmarked ears,
what we all fear
is to forget.
Tell the boy with the newly ...
Thursday 7th June 2018 3:52 pm
There’s a tropical isle, Gran Canaria,
Famed for sun, sea and sand –
Mavis and Fred flew over,
To escape Lancashire’s cold winter land.
Mavis said, “Eee, ‘tis hot in these woolly tights,
Let’s find summer shorts that flatter me bum
Throw away beiges and blacks,
Colour up, like the sky and the sun!”
She returned like a red hibiscus
(And that were only her face...
Saturday 19th February 2011 8:28 pm
Last stop before paradise.
An April rain has streaked the windows, smudging the view of suburban streets.
The chill breeze bends the spring’s first flowers and the TV’s showing old repeats.
In the lounge of The Willows nursing home the care assistants are serving teas.
After the adverts comes the snooker and ever...
Saturday 14th February 2009 1:34 pm