Potholes and craters


Too often we forget about the potholes

And the craters

Filled with water and booby traps

We focus too much on the long cool tall grass

That waves to us in beckoning days

The hills to roll down

The lush trees under which we sit

But we forget the potholes and the craters

At our peril

Those places where we can so often slip

Back into with such consummate ease

And not even realise until weeks have passed

We will have seen all the signs

Which we would carefully ignored

But there we are again

Caught between the grey and the black

The blurred vision of a former life revealed

Stamped upon out chests

And there we extol our bitter sweet reverie

Until once again we climb out of the pits

Of disdain and despair

Back into the sun of waving grasses

Rolling hills and oceans upon which the sun never sets

That do not threaten but make us calm instead


So let us not forget the potholes and the craters

To which we can reside

Into which we can so easily and gently slide

Beware of the bogeyman of easy living and contempt

Who will say, hey over here

This is a good place to hide

So let us enjoy the grass the trees

The open sea and sun

And all that embraces you and me

But not forget the danger signs

Of the potholes and the craters

To which pride can bring us down

Wrapped in the complacency of what we think we have

Let us all be watchmen to the watchers

Of each and every back

◄ Another day

They ►


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Martin Elder

Sat 20th Aug 2022 22:40

Thanks for your comments Uilleam. Glad you liked the poem


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Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh

Tue 16th Aug 2022 12:36

"...watchmen to the watchers

Of each and every back"

Several recent personal experiences had made me realise just how fortunate I am despite my whingeing; I must be less selfish.

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Martin Elder

Mon 15th Aug 2022 11:53

Thanks to Nigel,Frederick. Ray. Stephen, Rudyard,Holden, and K for liking
Thanks to John and Stephen for commenting
Blessings to all

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Stephen Gospage

Sat 13th Aug 2022 14:08

We should never be complacent, Martin. Happiness and future hope can be dashed in a second. Great poem.

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John Botterill

Fri 12th Aug 2022 14:33

There is no escaping the potholes around here, Martin. I blame the council!.
A super poem, with its gentle rising and sudden falls. Like life, it kept taking me by surprise!

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