Gregynog Mother Earth’s Beauty

Cyprus Oak Ash and Redwood

Hall begotten of all that is good

Regal in realms of black and white

Lights aglow in the night

Of woods and forests deep in fern

And woodland walks any feet would yearn

The delight of honey from bees home grown

To be sold in a shop all of their own

The true beauty of Mother Earth

Unfolds here in this her birth

Two sisters bright and gay

Knew natures loving way

Giving pure and simply the delight and treat

Of a flotsam of daffodils Spring will greet

Green long groomed hedges and lawns

A sight to behold from days of yore

When two sisters in their loving way

Created gardens of ecstatic display

For generations to come and enjoy

Life’s essence to breath in and employ

Roses and shrubs the scented day

No storm or snow or winter’s gaze

Has taken away two sisters age

Created many years ago

I am so grateful “Don’t you know!”

For my feet to tread on paths in fervent woods

To drink in and savour in all glory and good

Green the colour of Mother Nature’s gift

Her glistening touch any soul would lift

Blossoms of pinks purples and yellows

Bless and comfort all good fellows

Human and furry and in flight

Mother Nature is a glorious sight!

Gelateria

Every woman has a very soft spot

For a handsome man ‘Has she not?’

I do not know of any one

Who does not like an ice cream cone

In my lifetime i tasted many deserts

But the one i find really hurts

Is ice cream with olives everyone knows

If you try it it melts your toes

Gives your mouth a bitter taste

Please, do not your taste buds waste!

The Islander

A harbour master flagged me down one day

And got me in a romantic way

He told his coconut girl

Coz he didn’t want the truth to unfurl

I was his ex wife on the other line

I said go it would be fine

Before he left the video call

I knew it just wouldn’t be all

As when it ended i realized

He’d got my heart to my surprise

Captured it on a virtual call

That wasn’t all

I’m waiting to have it back wouldn’t you?

Sure to find it all broken in two!

But there is one thing this guy doesn’t know

My heart has come back many times so

I have glue and tape and a repairing kit

And my heart happily on the shelf does sit

When i need it i bring it back down

Because in my chest it beats safe and sound!

To give over to someone on another day

The game of love to play

Except my heart is so very strong

And love can do me no harm or wrong!

A Little Drop of Rain

Can your therapist really be your friend

Heal your heart for you

Until the very end

Through and through?

To do his very best

No simple care worker

Much better than the rest

No Sunday’s shirker

I know he tried utmost

Helping me along my journey

The crossroad came close

The gates he opened for me

Although his sessions led to tea and toast

All he could do was talk

And his friendship I wanted the most

But it wasn’t what he sought

Clouds in my coffee on a morning grey

I dunk my biscuit the sweetest of the bunch

But to find it broke away

Not for me this one at all to munch

Therapists are like coffee and biscuits in my opinion

While you are in the business of dunking and drinking

Talking is there dominion

Before you know it you’ve skipped lunch

And your biscuit has landed on your carpet floor

It becomes a creamy fluffy paste

Will be never no more

It will simply go to waste

Because friendships are more than a therapist maker

Who listens to your cares and woes

And although no faker

Now the session ends and goes

No friendship came about

No more laughter lifting me higher

Our journey fizzled out

And as a client I did expire!

MEMORIES OF LOVE

A LIFETIME AGO

YOU WERE HERE BY MY SIDE

AND I HELD YOUR HAND

AND LOVE WAS BLIND

YEARS I SLEPT BY YOU

YEARS AGO GONE THE DAY

WHEN I HAD THE CHOICE

TO KISS YOU THAT SPECIAL WAY

YOU WERE THE LIGHT OF MY LIFE

NOW THE BRIGHTNESS DOES BREAK THROUGH

BUT THERE IS SOMEONE ELSE

AND HE IS NOT YOU

COME TO ME IN DREAMS

TAKE ME AWAY

LOVE ME FOREVER

NEVER LEAVE ME I PRAY!

DESPAIR

DESPAIR, DESPAIR DO NOT LINGER HERE,

DO NOT HIDE THY FACE FROM CARE,

NOR RENT THE GLOBE ASUNDER,

WHILE I SHIVER FROM THE CHILL OF THY PRIDE,

DO NOT LAY MY LOVE ASIDE,

FOR MY SENSES DO NOT ABIDE WITHIN YOU!

This is a poem written by my friend John Herbert and in my opinion he is a truly great writer and poet. I am very honoured he allowed me to post this on my blog today!

Freedom

Here i found myself listening to Scottish folk music

I sit in this room signed ‘recovery room’

I ask myself just what am i recovering from

As i look around i see the room has comfortable seating and a table

I look through the windows and although the morning sun is bouncing off the walls

the view outside is awful

there is a high fence

the grass plot outside would not make a garden yet a place for recreation

i recollect artists have existed throughout the beginning of time

from cave humans to 21st century masterpieces

Yet not one picture hangs on these magnolia walls in this ‘recovery room’

Except!

On one wall someone either single handed or stencilled

has drawn the image of a tree

and images of birds flying above it

it is in black silhouette

and these are the only solitary images in this room

‘the recovery room’

above the tree faintly someone has attempted to create the image of a rainbow

you can hardly see it

the colours are poor

as every poet knows birds in flight always represent freedom

so i ask myself yet again what am i doing here sitting here in this

‘recovery room’

since lockdown last march

i have been confined to my house

then i needed to move and get away

so the only option to me as usual was here

where there is a

‘recovery room’

where i somehow believed i could recover from months of confinement

i came here to recover

to find freedom

as every wise stateman and woman is and has always been aware

for woman man beast or child ‘freedom’ and this alone lets your spirit sough

i came here to seek my freedom

now i find i am under lock and key

seems the dark road to hell my brother wrote about many years ago

has found me once again

and my soul is captured and detained once more

as a slave all of my life

i seek the solace but find it not

this ‘recovery room’

knows nothing and is empty

and the silhouette of the trees and birds

remain static and lifeless

and my soul is dying a little more each day

and will indeed perish altogether

i live in hope

for a life i have never known

and would give up my existence

for one day of

‘Freedom’

ICED FUDGE

In a millennium every now and then

There appears a face

Upon a man

The face that sculptors

With their hands and chisels

Carve into masterpieces

Which history keeps

Every now and then comes along

In the hurried bedlam

And the grime of a skyscraping day

A face

That launches ships and blesses unknown babies

And cradles softness in a woman’s bosom for a gift

With his head curled up inside her heart

That never really stops beating

But with a face like this

Once gone is gone forever

The memory like a chocolate

Bitten out of an envied

Child’s desire at a glistening casement

Through a bright shop window

There inside laid out on a plinth

That piece of Turkish Delight

Which in her tiny pocket

Remained priceless

As in childhood As in womanhood

And in the snowy clefts of her winter days

She knew then when she was a child

One of the hardest lessons

That every now and then

A face like his

Always will be out of reach

As in childhood

Even when grown

But the face isn’t the story

Although this says so much

The face and the tale

Combined weigh more in wealth

Than any Arabian Night

Buried in the hot sandy dunes

In tents where water is scarce

Every now and then

In a millennium or so

A tiny soul finds herself

Glancing on a face

She turns the pages

The images are there

For all to see

And the little woman knows

Like when a child

Her nose making little steamy circles

On that brightly lit shop window

And that beautiful face

Belongs to a single man

And very few women

In his lifetime

Would have the pleasure

To taste that succulent Turkish Delight

And very few girls and women

Would win the prize

And place their lips

On that sweet sweet mouth

That belongs to that face

That only appears every

Millennium or so

And as in every tale

Of Arabian Nights

When a face appears

In filigree binding

Of a parchment story

And remains immortal

As every little girl grows up to know

She will always achieve

The gift to press

Her lips onto that

Page

In that immortal book

And kiss the beautiful image

Because when a face

Like his that comes every millennium or so

Is painted and written in gold

All women eternally once grown

From that envious child

There written There captured

And there known

With the hearts desire of that face

And only that face

Women’s kisses a thousands of times touch

That beautiful beautiful face

On parchment or as in life

That face That man That story

Is there every millennium or so

For all women to enjoy eternally

Even in the priceless pockets of a little girl

Who as a child

First looked through a brightly lit shop window

Raised on a casement and saw

That delicious Turkish Delight!

I never knew what Bernie Taupin looked like the lyricist who works with Elton John. I saw his picture just last year and thought what a beautiful face he had. An extremely handsome man.

THE WELLY MAN

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A grey wayward beard

And an unthought about hat

Footprints of a boot

A rubbery tat

He walks down the street

Greeting folk as he goes

What has his pot?

Nobody knows

When money speaks

It speaks so loud

Across the valley

It reaches the crowd

I have a desire

Money can buy

But what would i do

With such an ugly guy?

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