Dusty Boots

There he goes again
as he struggles on his way.
His back is bent,
his clothes are ragged.
It's just another day.

At night he needs a shelter
to lay his weary body down.
People pass and glare at him
with hostile stares - and frown..

as they don't want to know
if heartbreak caused his pain.
He holds it all inside, but
feels his life blood drain.

They found him dead one morning
but no one gave two hoots, and
someone stole his pride and joy,
those well-worn dusty boots.

Years ago he was a teacher,
with a wife and son, aged three.
A driver mowed them down one day
and killed both - instantly.

I wrote this one ages ago for a contest that had to have the title "Dusty Boots, so this is what I came up with.   The subject of the homeless is always relevant, even more now I think with government cuts and austere measures.  There are many reasons why people become homeless, grief is just one.

Love and Pain

A short poem of extremes. Not all poetry has to rhyme.


Love is...




The quickening of the heart,
rose-flushed cheeks aflame.
Star-bright eyes that light your smile.
The smile, that leaves me breathless.


Pain is...




The last moments of this rendezvous
and final agony of parting.
Tears welling, overflowing;
salt smarting on my face.
This is our finale...


We, shall be no more

Hope for 2018

A happy new year to one and all
I hope some good luck comes to call.
Whether a new born child, a lottery win
or a silly joke to make you grin.

I hope this year there will be less sadness
Fewer evil acts and mindless badness.
But I see the horrors have already started
with loved ones left so broken hearted.

It seems mankind will never be free
Of all the violence we still see.
So all we can do is hope and pray
That a better world will come to stay.

More tolerance for other's choices
The freedom to hear all voices.
To express an opinion without fear
And keep the values we hold dear.

Inspiration

Sometimes the mind is barren
And words will not flow through.
A life is always changing.
Inspiration will come to you.


Just look around at beauty
And note down all you see.
The power of the universe
Each new flower, plant and tree.


The new-born baby crying
A toddlers faltering steps.
The smile from a senior citizen
Their life's wisdom in its depths.


Inspiration may come with anger
Sometimes sadness, often love.
All emotions flow and gather
Like clouds, so high above.


Dark clouds are our anguish
When words we cannot find
But bright clouds are renewing
The inspiration in your mind

Ancestry.

I've been trying to trace any living relatives of my paternal Grandfather who emigrated to Canada in 1923, so I joined Ancestry.co.uk on their worldwide site and found out quite a lot about him. He had a new family, so I knew I would probably have cousins still alive.  I checked to see if anyone else was researching him, for whatever reason, and I found several people who are and contacted them.

Unfortunately, I have had no replies so far, which is a bit disappointing. I would have thought that as they were doing research on my grandfather, they would be interested in my knowledge of him and what I have found out.  Anyway, replies would be polite, but early days I suppose.

Watch this space...

My New Border.

Garden by night, lovely and cool!