Love, Life and Death in a Teacup

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