(The shirt referred to in this poem, is now in my profile picture)

 

On the flight path from his junior school,

William looked, with interest, at the shirt I wore,

“That’s a repeating pattern, grandad.

Yellow, white, blue, red, and green!”

“My flabber is well and truly gasted, William,

You’re the brightest boy I’ve ever seen!”

 

Life’s recurring patterns crop up, remorselessly.

Addictions arrive and soon take hold,

Dogging us, until we are grey, old,

And utterly broken, beyond repair,

In endlessly repeating patterns:

Longing, hope, failure, despair.

Belief, engagement, trust, betrayal.

The same old stories everywhere.

 

We make mistakes and call this ‘fate.’

Negative patterns which we, ourselves, create.

Like the cityscape backdrops used in ‘Top Cat,’

The self-same scenes go round and around,

Over and over and over again,

As familiar as the Yorkshire rain!

 

God speed you, William, in all you do.

I hope your patterns are of a brighter hue,

That your sunny smile will see you through.

 

Go forth and make some patterns anew.