Other Peoples' Blogs.

I've been messing about on here reading other people's blogs, well only the ones in English and find some of them hard to understand. I don't know whether the majority of the bloggers are "on something" but some appear to live in a world that is completely alien to me, fantasy worlds, parallel universes and such like. Obviously my mind isn't creative enough, even though I have written the odd fairy poem and a few short stories with a science fiction theme.  

I suspect that I am too English and too genetically down to earth and, heaven forbid, too boring!  I can only be myself though and what you see is what you get, to coin a well worn phrase.

Other blogs I've read are focused on religion and worship, bordering on the fanatical.  I try to avoid the subject, as I don't want to offend anybody, even though I'm perfectly entitled to my own views. I think of myself as a humanist, but may well change my mind when laying on my deathbed, hopefully it won't be too late then!.

I'm 72 now and the Grim Reaper is probably looking down his list of "hopefuls" but not focusing on me just yet, with a bit of luck!.

Then there are the ones who focus on the cute antics of their offspring and pets, nothing against either in moderation, before you ask!.  Others have divulged every aspect of their sex life, though more likely what they'd like it to be.

That last bit has reminded me, I must get round to writing my memoirs!.

SEPTEMBER THOUGHTS A poem by Ann Wilson

This poem is about my mother who sadly died when I was a teenager. We found out she was not going to live much longer in the Autumn of 1958.



Month of melancholy thoughts,
sad feelings are descending.
Leaves now tinged with gold,
Summer days are almost ending.

Summer days are almost ending
and thoughts of you remain.
Why did I treat you badly
when you suffered so much pain?

When you suffered so much pain,
how selfish I was then.
If time could just be halted;
I'd go back and start again.

I'd go back and start again,
Life's lesson I've been taught.
Time now for happy memories,
not such melancholy thought.

SEPTEMBER SONG An Acrostic poem by Ann Wilson

September, heralds in the fall

Ever to delight us all

Pears and apples from the trees

Tastes, that guarantee to please

Evening primrose scent the air

Midst dahlia blooms that are so fair

Before the frosts of Winter come

Ending Summers long, long run

Rejoice in golden Autumn sun.

Soon the gold of Autumn fades

Old season goes, a new invades

Now it's cooler, nights seem long

Goodbye, adieu, September song!

Town Bridge, Bedford

Sea Front Gardens in Clacton.

Dahlias

IT'S AUTUMN ONCE MORE. A poem by Ann Wilson

Cool and crisp is the air today,
Autumnal aromas on the breeze.
Shrubs of evergreen, all blending
with gold-flecked broad-leaf trees.

Berry-bright brown hedgerows,
a precious feast for birds to share.
Apples waiting to be harvested,
so tempting hanging there.

Cold spells will change the colours,
to Autumn glory unsurpassed.
Giving that display we love
and remember from the past.

Soon the grass will be a carpet
of russet, red and gold.
When trees shed lacy foliage,
as they have since days of old.

SEASONS OF LIFE A poem by Ann Wilson

SEASONS OF LIFE.




In the springtime
of my life.
Everything was fresh
and new.

In the summer
of my life.
I fell in love
with you.

In the autumn
of my life.
We went our
separate ways.

In the winter
of my life.
How I miss those
summer days.