Page 2 of A World of Verse


  I.

  Beyond in the belly sleeping,

  And it breathes and feels vibrations

  In its sack of sugars seeping

  Drinks up its simple elations

  For it to grow from infant seed,

  One day, a bud in this garden,

  and from a bud one day a weed,

  Dry without sun, wilting, far done,

  But with the sugar sap it drinks,

  From the caretaker’s water can,

  It will sustain before it sinks,

  and as it lives will be a man.

  II.

  From the soil breaks free a bud,

  To peak its head up for the sun,

  It crawls foreword and slides through mud,

  Waters fall and waters will run,

  For the bud to breathe and to cry,

  Rains will spread to nourish with drops,

  But draughts last long, it will get dry,

  in times when seems his vigor stops,

  in those times the bud will still grow,

  nourished by the sugar in tears,

  he will hurt and will feel sorrow,

  and he will fight and face his fears.

  III.

  Time will pass, bud blossoms to weed,

  Lips suckle- mother’s milk is sweet,

  drinks up sugar, pleases his feed,

  to stay long tugging at the teat,

  before she must pull him away,

  from caretaker’s water can spout.

  Replenished from the sun’s ray,

  still stands and grows even without,

  caretaker’s hand and mother’s breast,

  here he sprouts from bud to blossom

  he’ll break through mud to face life’s test,

  from that same garden we all come.

  FOR ONCE ONLY

  He recalled the portrait painting

  from a museum visit, once ago.

  Ballroom dancer, lady fainting,

  the show of her leg and red dress let flow

  -and this was what he dreamed this night,

  held her close, so to feel her pumping heart.

  In his arms, became his, held tight.

  In their dance, expression of their love’s art.

  With each step, a piano key,

  And as the song notes rise, they also rise,

  A rose falls and they let it be,

  Roses rain, they let shower from the skies,

  To be for once in paradise,

  To be for once only, before he wakes,

  Goodnight kisses received twice,

  From pillow he stirs, eyes open, heart breaks.

  * * * * * * * * * *

  DEBRA PARMLEY

  Turtle

  Sometimes we need nothing more

  than to center

  or re-center our selves.

  To sit like the turtle on a log,

  quiet, pulled in,

  listening –

  not to the frogs

  who croak so loud,

  or the thousands of creatures

  singing through the dark night.

  Sometimes we need nothing more

  than to close our eyes and our ears,

  centering

  way down

  where all is still

  and the smallest voice

  might echo.

  Sailing

  Some memories

  are pure and clear

  sailing

  stingrays gliding

  silvery and sleek

  beneath our catamaran

  we raced them

  into the wind

  while they slid away

  under a turquoise sea

  some truths

  are like this

  close enough

  for a brief glimpse

  too fast to touch

  and impossible to capture

  *

  it's easy to get snagged

  on rough coral

  something damaged

  before you pull the boat off

  but that's the risk you take

  chasing stingrays

  the boat you might repair

  the coral never

  the day that started full of hope

  ending with the snag

  and the frustration

  *

  far better to ride the wind

  let it guide your boat

  oh not without your hands

  of course

  they're needed

  to set sails

  and with the right touch

  you can lean back

  to watch the sky

  as you stow away

  this perfect moment.

  In The Forest Glen

  The trees nod, rustling this eve

  in this forest glen.

  Between the trees

  I glimpse a falling star

  and make this wish -

  touch me tonight

  under these stars

  which blanket the earth

  in the dark summer night.

  The ferns for a bed,

  soft ground beneath

  and you to whisper those words

  into my ear, to tingle there

  as they nestle in my heart

  like forest creatures settling in.

  As night descends deeper

  the moon will sing a lullaby.

  I close my eyes –

  how dreams enter in

  this forest glen

  enchanted

  and entering there

  I”ll reach out to touch you,

  run my fingers

  through your hair,

  reach up to kiss your lips.

  The rest, beyond my deepest wish

  as we move in bliss.

  Abandon

  The cows run in a circle at night

  abandoning their slow pretenses

  and I wonder what else they do

  when we’re not around.

  How serious we humans can be,

  children the only ones knowing

  true abandonment.

  How we forget to run in fields

  though some of us like cows

  run wildly in circles behind

  the closed doors at night.

  * * * * * * * * * *

  IAN BRADLEY MARSHALL

  PLEASE BEAR WITH ME

  I cannot make myself clear

  I'm not quite sure why

  you have problems in understanding me

  I'm your Mum and have been

  and always will be

  I sense you think I forget this

  I do not

  I know I ask questions a lot

  and I remember when you asked me

  questions a lot

  when you were two and upwards

  I sense there's something wrong

  for I sense a 90 second time loop

  And though I cannot say it out loud

  for to do so would be defeat for me

  I sense that I have fallen victim

  to dementia and Alzheimer’s disease

  I cannot emphasise the joy it means

  to see you all arrive, my children,

  my daughters, my son,

  and I cannot account for the

  pendulum swings that even take

  me by surprise

  But when I have ticked you off

  and you walk out and return

  a minute later with that cheery smile

  and light in your eyes

  'Hey Mum. Fancy a cup of tea?'

  I cannot tell you what that means to me

  I cannot understand why I lose things

  for I am placing them in safe places

  And I'm sorry when I get angry

  that I tell you all off for searching the

  house for the keys

  that must have been spirited away

  or my rings have gone missing again

&
nbsp; You have always talked about the

  windows of my mind

  I fear my windows are closing

  Some have closed for good.

  Where that happens whole sections

  of my life have closed down

  and I'm locked sown within myself

  with no means to communicate

  my frustration other than through

  unintended anger

  It is most surely not intended

  for I love you all deeply

  and even though vast tracts

  of my mind no longer function

  some memories linger

  disjointed

  floating on air

  timeless

  and causing me to retreat

  to yesteryear

  where safety is found

  and a level of security

  I cannot explain the comfort

  I obtain from recalling events

  from three, four and five decades back

  and quietly implanting them into

  the events of this week

  this day

  this hour

  But it gives me a measure:

  of hope

  of life.

  It helps me to grasp on to the belief

  that I am not losing it at all

  Your father did everything for me

  And now I have the burden of doing it

  all myself

  That is what I tell you I know

  But locked deep within my soul

  is the inner reality but which I can't admit

  for such is the vileness of this illness

  that I'm well aware of what all of you

  are doing for me

  The fridge and freezer that's

  mysteriously stocked

  replenishing itself

  the various reasons you give me

  to do the hoovering and bed changing

  the endless battles with carers

  that you must understand

  encroach upon my sense of freedom

  and responsibility

  But I do understand deep down

  though I'm forbidden to reason it out

  or to say so

  All of you give me wonderful times

  I'm very aware that you talk

  very much in the present tense

  regarding Dad

  He is still part and parcel of my life

  Oh how I miss the warmth of his

  feet at night!

  And sometimes yes I forget he's gone

  I think he's on nightshift

  or he's popped out to walk Sadie

  round the park,

  And locked within me is the knowledge

  that Sadie died 30 years back

  but this illness makes it yesterday

  I know I'm closing down

  I don't want to

  But I have my faith

  And I love to see Dad's Portrait

  from your Study

  now proudly in my home, my lounge

  when he'd just turned thirty-eight

  I can see the smile

  And I know he's alive

  on The Other Side

  Please bear with me for I do not

  know how the future will unfold.

  All of you stand together

  for this strengthens me

  in a way that you can't

  quite understand

  It is as if I am living my life

  with my hands tied behind my back

  I have my dignity

  I have my fears too

  And I dread it

  when things go slightly wrong

  and I know you quietly clear up behind me

  But let us hope that future generations

  will not go through this

  That medicines will be such

  that this vile illness

  will be consigned to history

  Bear with me my children and sons in law

  my grandson and great grandchildren

  I thank you with all my heart

  for what you are doing for me

  standing with me

  and enabling me to remain at home

  Please be patient

  as I retreat further into my memories

  and hallucinations

  And rejoice too that my long term

  memory sharpens

  so that I'm revealing more

  of what life was like in my

  teens and twenties

  I've had a wonderful life

  Dad and I have been to California

  and the Grand Canyon

  We have dined on the Queen Mary

  moored in San Francisco

  We have visited your Uncles' Graves

  in Germany

  We have entertained you all

  in our Timeshare in Tenerife

  We have been to Ireland

  and we have had wonderful

  family gatherings, three generations

  on our moorings at Bredon

  Stand together

  And when you hear me

  wandering around at night

  or walking the corridor to the

  drawing room

  I'm actually thrilled to see

  the glow of your bedroom light

  beneath the door

  and I love it when I pop in

  with my hair north south east and west

  as you dare to cheekily put it,

  frightened because Dad isn't there

  and you invite me to sit on the bed

  and you stroke and hug me

  and you show me your work on the laptop

  and help me to seize back reason

  just at the moment I thought I

  had lost it

  And we laugh and then

  I go back to bed

  and you tuck me in

  putting out the light

  but leaving the door open

  just as in aeons past

  I would do for you

  I know I go down when

  all of you return to your homes

  and I know just what it does to you

  to receive 17, 25 and 30 calls

  in an evening on the same point

  But it also makes me feel so safe

  just to hear your voices

  Your cheery hello and the smile

  I can see down the line of the phone

  "Hello Mum."

  And we chat as in the old days

  and by the time we've finished

  I've forgotten why I called

  but you make me feel a thousand

  feet tall.

  And none of you ever let on

  I've called before.

  Just occasionally, the locked window

  will open and I will remember

  I've called you already

  and I'm so thankful that nevertheless

  you didn't remind me.

  Thanks Mum for being the most

  wonderful Mum in the world

  For the incredible laughs we have

  For the jokes we have

  For all the reminiscences

  For all the times you have given me

  and all of us

  We love you Mum

  from the bottom most part

  of our hearts

  ANYHOWS

  Children were executed

  And the world stood idly by

  A shrug of the shoulders:

  It’s how it goes and anyhows,

  not my problem – now where’s

  my coffee?’

  It’s no good looking at me like that,

  there’s nothing we can do anyhows,

  as well you know.

  And I must keep my eye

  on the FTSE index coz

  I've got pension shares.

  And anyhows, Syria and Iran

  They’re just too far away for me

  to even worry about.
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  Nowt there is gonna affect me here.

  I told you to stop looking at me like that!

  I don’t like it.

  You seem to sear me with a

  red hot poker

  and that’s a breach of

  my human rights.

  Which reminds me...

  I must mark a cross on the calendar

  for Monday – going on strike

  We’re working too many hours

  And anyhows that DOES affect me.

  And anyhows – what you mean

  I should be looking at Houla on the box?

  I don’t do houla hoops these days.

  Anyhows, who are you anyways?

  Conscience, what you mean, conscience?

  Go away!

  Hey luvvee can I 'ave another

  hot choccy and one of 'em pastries?

  Yeah. Thanks. Wicked.

  I 'spose you'd better get this here

  a coffee too! I dunno. Trouble is

  I'm just too generous to a "T"

  What you mean there's no one here?

  THAT STRANGE BEDFELLOW - CHARITY

  I'm a cancer in your body

  I eat away your insides

  I show no mercy

  in my determination

  to eat you alive

  I feed upon your misfortune

  and create more cancers

  where none before existed.

  My appetite is voracious

  and my permutations

  endless

  ever more progressive

  innovative

  malignant

  promiscuous.

  I attack the most vulnerable

  I feed on irony

  the less the purse holds

  the more I can quite legitimately steal

  ...and do...to my heart's content

  There's just no stopping

  the thirst and my appetite.

  My Name?

  Why yes of course.

  “Charity”.

  THE FIVE POUND NOTE

  ‘Hell has no fury than a woman scorned’

  It is written.

  How dare the man

  To have the affront to ask for payment from me

  His invoice

  He is a woman hater

  A character assassinator

  A man to be reviled

  A man who hates

  Oh dear!

  Lucifer throwing teddy

  out the pram again

  Striding the heavens

  with the clomp

  Of a booted Irma Grese

  Demanding that all men are evil

  Because all men hate women

  It’s Sunday afternoon of course

  Always a bad time for unhappy souls

  Jezebel and Potiphar’s wife

  All rolled into one

  And without the calm reasoning

  Of Mrs. Pilate to her hapless husband

  In times like these

  Forget the payment

  Cut the link