by Sarah Priest
Or perhaps it’s God playing with my thoughts,
sat upon His throne
Heavenly balls of fluff floating high in the sky
Bring about the rain so the earth doesn’t run dry
To me they are a scenic pleasure whether white or shades of grey
With amber reds and pinkish yellows, that set the sky ablaze
The wonders of this planet never cease to astound me
I so wish I could float on a cloud and fly around freely.
Devil in a Sponge
Moist, inviting, covered in icing, the devil in a sponge.
It starts with some butter, eggs and sugar
Cream it altogether until light and fluffy
Add the flour, maybe some fruit, a pinch of spice
and voilà a tempting pud
For the finishing touches, butter icing or cream
A scattering of sprinkles and there you have it
a confectionery masterpiece.
But I must resist this devil in a sponge
It will only make me fat and I will have to go for a run,
I pass the kitchen door and there you still are
Staring at me, luring me to devour your very heart
I cannot resist, I take that indulgent bite
Savouring the moment of this sponge cake delight
I am in heaven not in hell, I know he thinks he’s won
That moist, inviting, covered in icing, that devil in a sponge!
Hope
I walked in the dark shadow of light
Never wanting or complaining but knowing things weren’t right
I had fun, I laughed, I played, I cried
But still, deep down inside, I knew I had lied
Until one day, no longer could I carry on
I reached out for help, but instead fell into the arms of those who did me wrong
I found myself out of pocket and very low
I lost my weight, my heart, my soul
Then one day, a voice inside said, ’It’s alright
Seek help from those who know your plight
In the meantime, enjoy what you have, rest and recoup
Soon, you will be seen by those in the group’
A year passed and at last I got a call
They are ready to see you, I shouted, “Wahay!” I recall
Nervous and anxious I went along
I felt in my heart this is where I belong
From my very first meet, I was put at my ease
I felt calm as they listened, took notes and appeased
From then on four months to wait
Until that faithful day when Simone rang to make a date
We have a space, you can see us now
I jumped for joy, wow, wow, wow
I knew I must do this even on my own
Hence the day came when I travelled alone
Nervous and apprehensive I was still
Yet I needn’t had worried as the journey was a thrill
I was greeted at the door by Angela and Simone
They sat me down and listened to me moan
Fearful, sad and depressed I had been
It felt good to at last relinquish these scenes
Through help and advice, difficult at times
I have improved and Angela has seen the signs
To my surprise homework was given
Through my collages my talent had arisen
Onwards and upwards my weight has increased
And I wait for that inevitable day when 50 kg is reached
My treatments are ongoing so this poem has yet to end
However it’s comforting to write these words, like being with an old friend.
Life Is but a Blink of an Eye
Life, is but a blink of an eye
A moment two people share
A sun-blazoned ocean
A foot print in the sand
The joy of family and friends
Celebrating Birthdays, Christmases and Weddings
Summer nights under the stars
Not a care in the world
Memories of times gone by
Keep those we have lost alive
They appear in our dreams
If only for a while
They are a part of our souls
Part of our hearts
Part of our lives
That keep us whole.
We Are Human
We create, we destroy
We nurture
We sing, we dance
We play
We teach, we listen
We procreate
We imagine, we sleep
We dream
We hope, we pray
We hate
We laugh, we cry
We love
We eat, we kill
We survive.
Love It
I love it when he calls me
sweetums, sugar fluff and tots
I love it when he holds my hand
strolling through the park
I love it when he touches my
thigh nestled on a bench
I love his ginger hair and
how it sparkles in the light
I love it when he strokes my
forehead when we lie in bed
I love it when he smiles
and laughs at my jokes
I love it that he thinks he’s Peter Pan
and tells me his stories of youth
I love him in his leather jacket
blue jeans and boots
I love his fascination of movies
and all the different kinds
I love it that he’s seen so many famous stars
and has several folders with all their autographs
But most of all I love it, when we are snuggled in bed
and to know he fell in love with me, the day we first met.
Monster in the Wardrobe
I’m not sure where the monster in the wardrobe came from
Perhaps watching too many Dr Who’s as a child?
Maybe my parents used it as a ploy to keep me quiet
Or I had an overactive mind
But whenever I went to bed, my wardrobe had to be shut
No clothes caught in the door as that meant he could break out
He was scared of the landing light, so that was left on at night
My feet and hands tucked away in case this should entice
the monster from his lair
Quiet and unobtrusive, no one would know he was there
Yet when night time came and I was ready to sleep
He was always lurking, hiding, in the wardrobe at the end of my bed.
Pensions
Pensions, pensions, please someone give me a sign when I should draw my pension
Do I take it early at 55 or wait until I am 75?
My funds are on a rollercoaster going up and down
Playing FTSE in the market place,
they never touch the ground
Do I leave it in a managed fund or risk it in Japan
Take a drawdown policy and get my 25% tax free
Or cash it all in and buy myself a Ferrari
If I am overweight or had a stroke, my luck might be in
I can get an impaired annuity so cakes are no longer a sin!
I could invest in a low-risk fund but there’s no guarantee
Every insurance company tells me, I might not get back what I put in!
Maybe I should keep working and top-up my pot
Who knows the stock market might boom and it will be like winning the jackpot
Yet I know only too well the crashes from the past
Black Monday, Black Friday thank heavens it didn’t last
I’m beginning to think that pensions is just pot luck
So I don’t think I’ll worry, cos the day I draw my pension I might get run over by a bus!
Sick Water Tank
There is a sick water tank in the kitchen at wo
rk
It has a plaster on its nose
How thoughtful someone must have been
Who saw the dripping water flow
To put a bandage on its nose
Alas, the plaster was not enough
To stop the dripping water flow
So now the kitchen floor is wet
And the water tank has lost its nose!
Skyped Love
Dinner for one sat by a screen
So I can see my loved one,
I can talk with him, laugh with him
While away the hours, both stuck in our cells
Him on his bed feeling rather depressed
But this is not how it was meant to be
We tried to buy a home
Got stymied from every direction
I became ill, my back ceased
So we both ended up at our parents’
I try to imagine if we’d met long ago
Before the invention of automobiles and telephones
Our only communication sending
love letters in the post
Would my yen be any less?
Would my pain be any worse?
So even in this technological age
I get a glimpse of him everyday
But still it hasn’t helped
Buy a house, ease my conscience or my pain
All it does is remind me
each and every day
I am still not with him
as he is living far away.
Somewhere
When I desert this earthly coil
I know I’ll still be on the boil – somewhere
When earthly senses have me seem
A fading memory, a cloud of steam
I’ll chuckle with my eyes agleam – somewhere
When time decrees by nature’s rote
I don again a mortal coat
I’ll yell and rock the earthly boat – somewhere
And know for sure that there will be
A time I meet you and you meet me
We’ll chat again o’er Lapsang tea – somewhere.
‒ My neighbour
The Love Witch
My boyfriend thinks I’m a love witch
I’ve put a spell on him
He fell in love with me instantly
The day we first met
He thinks I have some effigy
And potions at home
A secret altar where one day
I’ll sacrifice him like the Wicker Man
I am not sure why he has this impression
I don’t look much like a witch
I don’t own a cauldron, black cat or broomstick!
He’s never been in love before
So maybe that’s why
His head is in constant turmoil
And his emotions have run wild
The chemical reaction
When you first fall in love
Wanting to be with your lover
No matter what the cost
It is kinda fun and
I might keep up the pretence
That I am this love witch
And I’ve put a spell on him!
Tomato in a Cake Tin
I knew something was up, old age, just a little forgetful
Or was it something more sinister like Dementia!
I found a tomato in a cake tin, oh we did laugh
Milk in the cupboard, searching for her specs
Then she became vacant sitting on her bed
Of course it got worse, Mum in denial
She lost interest in cooking and even the house
She calls out at night for her sister Jean
Her clothes are all sticky, I call her the marmalade queen
Occasionally we’d chat, I told her she was married,
“How long has it been?” “60 years,” I added
“Oh dear,” she replied, “best find myself a new fella.”
She’s still in there somewhere with her odd little ways
When I am watching a movie she’d often say
“I’ve seen that already”
But I know she’s mistaken as it’s never been on the telly
She ate all my sweet potatoes one day
I’d left them in the kitchen, cooling on a tray
“Did you eat them?” I asked. “Of course not,” she snapped, “I don’t even like them!”
She plays this shushing game with my beau, I think she doesn’t want to be seen
She calls him stupid, sometimes handsome but she doesn’t know who he is
I know it’s downhill from now on and I will miss her when she is gone
But I will always remember the tomato in the cake tin and how it made us all laugh back then.
Sanctuary
I bought myself a cushion
With a picture of a shed
It reminds me of my allotment
Where now I hardly tread
I remember the day I went there
In the hope of renting a plot
It was a cold January morning
I was wrapped in my raincoat, boots and gloves
After seeing only a few
It was the last one on the list
I immediately fell in love
’Cos it had its own shed!
Ten years have now passed
Many a weekend spent
Tending the earth, digging beds
Pruning, weeding, enjoying the freedom
Growing my own veg
I made a garden full of flowers
Sometimes it got a little wild
I loved watching the bees
In my digitalis
Butterflies dancing the zephyr
And crickets jumping all around
I seldom visit my sanctuary
As that is what it was
The break-up of a relationship
Helped the demise of my plot
No more sowing seeds,
Reading all those gardening magazines
Chatting with old friends
Enjoying a place where I could be me
I am rather broken to know it’s gone
It replenished my soul, gave me a purpose
It was a place I called home.
The Second-Hand Bookshop
The second-hand bookshop meant nothing in my youth
For I had no passion for reading
But now to stumble upon such stores
Is like stepping into a cave full of historical gems
Shelves upon shelves laden with treasures
When I open a book, I’m travelling through time
Going back to bygone days living in a past
Where different words had different meanings
Some no longer uttered
Some their meanings have changed
Dirty worn pages all yellowy brown
Many people have fingered these leaves
The author now passed but when I read
They instantly come alive
Their words tantalize my mind
Enlighten my soul
Have the power to change my destiny
The covers are works of art
The quirkiness, the silence, quieter than a library
The bookworms that enter this realm of words
An experience you’d never get searching the net
Two volumes of war and peace on the counter
The complete works of the Bible
Nearly as big as my torso
I’d have to live a thousand years to read it!
I could stay here for hours, but the clock’s ticking
As I make my way from the attic
My arms laden with books as I hand them to the seller
Who beams at me, “My you’ve got one from every section.”
My excitement within for the joys these books bring
Having taken away a few gems from his store.
Death in a Teacup
All alone at the café
&nb
sp; Cup of tea for one
The decor has changed, the seating all worn
The arcade game we played now gone
No butterflies churning
Looking into your puppy-dog eyes
Holding your hand across the table
Those long kisses goodbye
I take a sip of my lukewarm tea
Doesn’t taste like it once did
Acerbic and unpleasant,
I shudder as it passes my lips
I stare at the rings of life
Clasping this cup in my hands
Once it felt warm and inviting
Now it tells a different tale
I watch the comings and goings of the people
Heads down on their mobiles and tablets
The modern life we live in
Oblivious to what’s going on around them
It all began here at the Lansdowne
Where we’d meet for a cuppa and some food
We’d chat away for hours
As our love grew and grew
Now those times have gone
And I am alone with my tea for one
The murky green dregs at the bottom
Fill me with sadness, my death in a tea cup.
What Is Love?
Is it passion, control, contentment, happiness or freedom?
Is it belonging, companionship a need to be needed?
Is it desire, an obsession, stifling or all-consuming?
Is it in the mind or does it come from the heart?
Does it make you crazy, angry or upset?
Does it make you strong, confident or weak?
Does it make you frustrated?
Want to cry, want to die?
It does make you do things
you never would have dreamed
It does control your mind, your heart,
it does make you believe.
It is a powerful force that can enrich your life
and one that can destroy your very soul.
It is love, that enigma in life,
It is love, love, love.
For All the Days
For all the days the sun has shone
And all the days the rain has come
For all the times I’ve gazed at the stars
And seen the face of the moon.
For all the steps I have walked
In a field, by the roadside, in my home
For all the words I have spoken