My Own Poetry Part 1

At the back of Journal No1 are at least 24 poems that I have written. Words out of my own head that I thought I would share. I am no William Wordsworth I have to say before I start.

(TJ – I have formatted these, so you can actually see the poetry in action!!! – I can see where uncle D got it from!)

CROSSROADS was written 16/8/1991.

I am at the crossroads of my life,
I want to be more than a wife,
I want to stay, I want to go,
Oh hell, what do I want,
Oh, I don’t know.

I love my man so very much,
But no longer tremble at his touch,
The babes I bore are nearly grown,
I think I am happy with my life,
But is there more than just being a wife?

I work. I wash, I scrub the floor,
For some women that is enough but I want more,
To run along a sandy shore,
To find something that is just out of each,
What I want is just a dream,
It sometimes makes me want to scream,
But then he calls me “Oh, my love”,
And deep down I know that is enough,
And I know that to my children three,
A special mum I am meant to be.

But that Crossroads??
Will I go??
As I said before I don’t know.

Written August 20th 1991….No Title

As I reach my middle years,
I wonder to myself,
Would it have been half as bad,
If I had been left “On the shelf”,
Cos in those young far off days,
When each day dawned was new,
To be someone’s wife was the thing to be,
The thing to achieve and do.

When I was just a little girl,
Summer days were bright and long,
Each day that dawned we would play and play,
And not a lot went wrong,
And then the teens came catching up,
And the games would start to change,
And lives problems came to stay,
And wouldn’t go away,
Then the boy of your dreams would appear to you.
And the next thing you would be saying,
You would be saying “I do”

And the dreams that you had as a little girl,
Would at last once come through.

August 20th 1991

As we stumble through life blindfolded,
Because we were not told what to do,
Have you ever wondered if it’s written down,
A big book that is given to you,
Before you were born to work out and decide,
What plan you do this time around,
To see, if you can achieve for once and for all,
What before you were born you had once understood.

Aug 1991

What is life but one long chore,
When you are old and grey,
When you were young,
What did you do,
But wish your life away,
And now those years have gone,
And you have worked and worked for so long,
You wonder if you lived it right…
Or did you live it wrong?

I FEEL THAT IN AUGUST 1991 I THINK I WAS HAVING A MIDLIFE CRISIS.

In the shade of the old apple tree,
I sit in the cat basket with a pad on my knee,
For poems of inspiration I seek,
I wish I were strong,
But know I am weak,
A famous writer or poet,
I will never be,
As I sit in the cat basket,
With a pad on my knee.

I AM A LEAF

The summer has gone,
In a blaze of blue sky,
Along with my friends,
I flew way up high,
The days now draw cold,
My green gown has gone,
My new gown is brown,
I will soon flutter down,
I am a leaf, but I will die,
When I lay on the ground.

and lastly for now…

Little babies pink and new,
That everybody loves,
Some grow up tall and strong,
But for some, things do go wrong,
And these babies are the special ones,
That will always need your care,
And you must love them true,
Cos sometimes they don’t stay with you,
God takes them back before too long,
And in his garden, they’ll grow strong,
But while on earth they will need you,
To help and care and see them through,
When times are hard and needs are strong.

Part 2 to follow……