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Gravel

Letting Go
By Michael Allsopp

Have to let go

of a beautiful mind

It's gonna be cruel

It ain't kind

Why didn't I foresee it

When you put the world on me.

Have to let go

Of a beautiful book

Don't wanna read it

Don't wanna look

Should've skipped all the pages

When you put the world on me.

Have to let go

Of a beautiful soul

Stories spoken

And stories untold

Reeling me in on fishing line

When you put the world on me.

Have to let go of a beautiful fool

It is me and

Always will be

We can do this together

Like we done before

Shelter from the rain

At Pink Flamingos door

You say hello

And I'll wave goodbye

I don't want the world put on me.

Michael Allsopp 29.7.18

#manwith6olevelsandatutu

 
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Seasons Affecting
by Joy Hadaway

I woke this morning to a cold hard frost, the ground was hard and the grass was lost.

Mums and dad rush their children through the playground, hands in gloves and breathy greetings, now they're off to work for their many meetings.  

I rushed back home to the warmth and comfort to start the day's chores.  I can think of better activities that do not make me bored!

All I want to do is go to sleep like a little mouse in a bale of wheat.

I've a pile of ironing and beds to make, floors to vacuum and a cake to bake.

I must write some cards and make a shopping list, I've got appointments in the morning that cannot be missed.

Before I know it the clock has moved on!

I've worked non-stop but the ironing is gone.  Time for a cuppa and put my feet up what's on TV.  Oooh a hot sweet cup!

Oh dear what time is it?  I must've nodded off, I've got the school run today and I've developed a cough!  I hate this bloody winter the days go too quick.

One child has got the flu and the other is sick!

Roll on the spring time, the daffodils and longer days, for that improves my mind and changes my ways.

I crave the sun and the warmth on my bones, no sitting indoors tapping on phones.

A brisk walk through the fields and exploring the forest, the tent is up and the birds are in chorus!

Oh the promise of much warmer days, of ice creams and beaches on which we lay!  Children are laughing and running around, barbecues blazing and a funky sound.  People are happier when the sun in around, as for me in the winter I go to ground.

 
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THEY ARE GONE  by ANON*

You can shed tears that they are gone

Or you can smile because they lived

You can close your eyes and pray that they will come back

Or you can open your eyes and see all that they have left

Your heart can be empty because you can't see them

Or you can be full of the love that you shared

You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday

Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday

You can remember them and only that they are gone

Or you can cherish their memory and let it live on

You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back

Or you can do what they would want:

Smile, open your eyes, love and go on.

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TONYS' POEM ABOUT THE PLOT!

I walked along a sunshine road

Because the rain was in my head

When all at once my steps were led

To the sight and sound of quirky sheds

One green one brown

One to smile – One to frown

Both bathing well

In Autumn's golden gown

She smiled and smiled

At what she had

And smiled at name

Of soldier's plot

His name was curious in a way

His rank not high I would say

His number though was 40A

And on the plot were plotters, too

Just doing the thing plotters do

And over fence and over yonder

I thought I heard another plotter

A soldier plotter – a lost lost plotter

A one time dreaming poppy plotter?

Plotting plots in his slumber

In the ground with name, rank, number

And I heard him ghostly say


“Son, you may be famous one fine day

And it may not happen

In a very big way

Just walk along a sunshine thread

Ignore the rain inside your head

Tend the plants with all due care

And they will clean the cankered air

No weeds nor thorns will dare to tear

The silver hopes of plotters hearts

Or golden locks of their hair

And they like you , will get to see

Another father – another plotter

For now they speak in pandered whispers

To fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters

But they, like you, will get to hear

Another singer, a louder rapper

Today my son, true plotters cry

So much, too much, but they won't die

Plants and prizes they clutch, will clutch

Yet they, like you, will come to touch

Fruit so truthful and prize eternal

Today the liars and politicians

They steal our fruit with stealthy paces

And spit the pips back in our faces

Take heart my plotters – to the core

Unlike them, you will ascend, and reach to taste

With absent haste, your second garden, your father's garden

Our lovely land, our plot of Kent

Festooned it is with wishes bent

The give us labels with cruel intent

Yet unlike them, our childhood spent, again will scent

Our secret garden, our playground garden”


On Him do we depend?

Knowing one day our hearts shall mend?

When all glory is rendered back?

To Him on high in the end?

In the meantime church bells ring

And conkers swing on end of string

And us we labour out of town

Under canopy of her golden gown

Under canopy of her golden gown

It will not last; we will face the blast

Of Winter's shriek

Yet in time she'll reach her peak

And frost will yield as winter's shield

Gives way to boots upon our field

To this our plot I'm truly bound

No seed shall fall on stony ground””

No seed shall fall on thorny ground

We do our best, we work with zest

And the real prize...?

Seeing little green human men

shoot up before our eyes

I am but a guest and roughly dressed

And watch the fruit grow plump and plump

Plump and plump as Pomona's breasts

The summer sun and shadows short

Shadowland under barbie smoke

The burgers brown, the sozzies brown

And I await her golden gown

I look around from dove to dove

From dove to dove to human dove

We imitate the ones we love

His plot is near

so very near

The other day his voice I heard

“Just walk along the sunshine road

Forget the rain that's in your head”



Tonyem

Talk it Out

Deal

January 2020



*other works – story of plants that come to life at night potato is irish, leek welsh, pepper italian, onion french, sprouts english plant farm instead of animal farm