women….

They say it happens slowly, just creeps up on you and you don’t really notice…. ‘they’ were right!

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I think I might be pregnant, cos I’m showing all the signs

Feeling so exhausting and sleepy all the time

Sometimes I feel like crying and I have no idea why

It makes me feel uncomfortable, of that I can’t deny

My boobs they are a-growing and bursting out my bra

If I stood next to dolly, then we would be on a par

My waist is non-existent and is spreading out the side

My ass is also growing and, well really, it’s quite wide

It used to be so perky and one to feel quite proud

But now it’s changing rapidly, I get stares from the crowd

But I know I can’t be pregnant, unless it is a phantom

No I’m not the virgin Mary, but neither am I dumb

I think it’s hormones going mad, like they did in my youth

But what they’re doing to my body, is really quite uncouth

I cut right back and walked out long and joined the slimming world

But nothing seems to do the trick for this fat bottomed girl

I don’t want to starve myself and I can’t think straight any more

The shock of this reality is that it must be the menopause

At least when you are pregnant, the outcome is really cute

Whoever thought women need this too, is honestly a brute!

So if you over 55 and your body is sprouting like mad

It’s time to get the party started to wash away the sad

Time to now embrace, the new larger squishy side of you

Join hands with all your sisters and pray that we get through

Hot flushes and the mood swings, dry skin and all the rest

Look back oh so fondly on the days when you looked your best

So what can we do with this stranger in the mirror

Just dress her up, and dance in the rain, cos you are still a winner

Go out all flamboyant and add a  little  crazy

Drink back some gin, and say so what? so what if it’s all hazy

Go strut your stuff like you always did and don’t apologise

Inside that body, it’s still you kid, of that I tell no lies !

speak

sometimes what you need to say is nothing at all

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I sit and stare and still it’s white

No word or sentence

I can write

But as I look

The page so bare

I realise that

there’s something there

elegant paper

soft to touch

I hear it speak

It says so much….

Broken…

Sometimes, especially in youth, things seem so big that they are insurmountable, but then you often realise that it is the little things that really matter and that anything can be achieved. Every day is a new day to start again, regardless of the big or the little thing. As we age and mature, what was the ‘big thing’ will often pale into insignificance and what was the ‘little thing’ is often the most important thing. Its called perspective.

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Surrounded by her family, yet feeling so alone

all is safe and peaceful, in this happy family home

but as she sat at the table, concealing how she feels

the hurt and desperation are really very real

she doesn’t want to burden them, or tell them they were right

instead she’ll keep it with her and end it all tonight

she wants to say she loves them, but her throat begins to close

the words are trapped and stuck there, of the secret no one knows

growing up is difficult, but then to be betrayed

of the love in a relationship, how could she possibly stay?

for when the drink was taken, a monster he became

no one could control him, or even make him tame

so as much as he said he loved her, his fists said otherwise

no more could she bare the agony of the beatings or the lies

not yet even twenty, yet she felt life had no meaning

ashamed of what she’d put up with, had left her true self reeling

so as she went to bed that night, she studied all the pills

they only way to stop the pain – it had been a a battle of the wills

she thought about her family, and she began to cry

deep down inside, within her heart, she didn’t want to die

she knew no other way to stop the hurt and pain

and so she took all the pills and on her bed she lay

sometimes without explanation, an intervention occurs

for when she woke the next morning a ‘voice’ had spoke to her

it’s not your time to go now, don’t be so alarmed

the tablets that you’ve taken, have left you quite unharmed

go and live your life, you are stronger than you think

and then the voice disappeared as quick as she could blink

she felt a little groggy, astounded and so shocked

but soon she felt the strength enough, but her secret would stay locked

she swore she would do something, and make her life worthwhile

no more being trod upon and soon she would smile

now when she looks back on that time, oh so long ago

she’s thankful for that ‘intervention’, that helped to make her grow

and realised that a mind so young, can be easily disturbed

and loose sight of what can be achieved, if we share and we observe

so when around the table, at family dinner time

be sure to check with your young ones, that they are doing fine

and if they appear distant or even a little aloof

sometimes that is just enough to offer you some proof

that maybe all is not so well, so tread kindly and be open

let them know you’re there for them, and would help if they feel broken

it may must be the start, that they feel that they can tell

when all that’s going on in their life, is really not going so well.

You worry too much ….

Even as they grow, the worrying never stops

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You worry too much; she says with a laugh…..

It’s not funny to me

But 17 years old, her head full of ideas

No clue of the reality that drives my fears

You worry too much, rings in my ear……

It’s a mother’s job

Get them ready to flee the nest

Prepare them well to do their best

You worry too much; I know what I’m doing……

I’m happy and sad

I want her to soar and not be hurt

Be treated well and not like dirt

You worry too much; it will be O.K……

Too trusting she is

Easily led by so called friends

Who’ll take from her and not make amends

You worry too much; she says with a sigh…….

I know her weakness

Beats herself up at the hint of criticism

Facing into a world full of scepticism

You worry too much I say to her….

Some things don’t matter

It’s the beauty within that shines so bright

Imperfections outside don’t dim the light

You worry too much what people think….

Be true to yourself

Show kindness to others but also to you

Sort the wheat from the chaff and know who is who

You worry too much of material things

They don’t matter

Honesty and truth, integrity and grit

Keep them with you always in your precious tool kit

We worry too much because we care

It’s a battle

It comes from within, deep in the gut

It comes from the heart which is full of love

When…

all we are certain of is now….

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When the buds unravel and unfurl in their splendour

it’s time

when a heart skips a beat and you get lost in loves wonder

it’s time

when a mother first sees you and holds you in her arms

it’s time

when a loved one takes their last earthly mortal breath

it’s time

when the moon and stars shines light in the darkness

it’s time

when the sun’s warm embrace soothes and rests on your face

it’s time

when sadness, hurt and despair are choking and squeezing you

it’s time

and when faith and hope and love collide, and give reason and understanding, it gives power in the now, this hour, this second, this moment in time

it’s time to embrace and endure to look and to listen, to feel and to heal, respect and accept

it’s time

Julia

a time to remember our loved ones on national poetry day and remember the strengths and weaknesses that can tie us together….

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What a fair and curious child little Julia was

Happy to sit and play and dance and gather up the moss

A tall man would come from just up the road

his house so very different, from the house where she had grown

he’d pay her a visit from time to time, she was thrilled for such attention

for a child so young she would notice her siblings got no mention

and as she played in the bog, others around would tease her

still, merrily in her naivety, she wouldn’t let it displease her

sometimes he’d give her a penny and place it in her hand

she’d curl her fingers around it, and wonder about this man

she never quite knew why he came to spend time with her alone

He’d wander from the big house, the one that made the quarry stone

she just a farmer’s daughter tending to their lot

fierce with pride and dignity they took care of what they got

her daddy with his callused hands and furrows on his brow

looked tired and worn and beaten down, his eyes full of sorrow

many mouths to feed he ploughed right on and his eldest daughter helped

as she swept and cleaned and cooked for those, up at the big house

her mother busied daily, keeping Julia close by her side

this little child she loved so much had filled her heart with pride

for Julia was only 4 years old in the year of 1916

unaware of the trouble and toils that came from the Easter Rising

A simple carefree country girl now the only one left at home

Her big brother and big sister, to England they had flown

But still he came, the tall gentleman, and sit and sip some tea

Cautious in how he spoke to her and to her mammy

Polite in his manner, he wore a rather tall hat

Always tipped, then took it off and laid it on his lap

A man with many children, he had a large family

Julia never understood, ‘why does he come see me’

His older son was sent away when he was only 16

To join the British army and has not been back to Meath

Well that was 4 years ago now and though he is very proud

There is something hanging over his head like a big grey cloud

Mammy seems a little sad, when the man comes by to chat

But she is polite and kind to him and Julia is pleased with that

When Julia is only 9 years old the man could come no more

Some say it was a broken heart, but they cannot be sure

Not yet a man of 60, his time had come to pass

No more would he wander down from the big stone house

As Julia grew older it was time to tell the truth

The tall man was her grandpa, yet she didn’t have a clue

Her mammy was really her nanny and raised her as her own

And her ‘mammy’ was her sister where to England she had flown

And later on after that her ‘father’ too would visit

Back from the British Army, he came back home to Meath

Always through a veil of somewhat secrecy

George would visit Julia with his new wife, the Lady

And though she felt quite happy that they would come for tea

It was a reminder of how very proud she was of her strong family

For back in the year 1912 it must have been unnerving

But strength and pride and dignity were qualities they were preserving

Shakespeare

Did you know the extent of the words we use today are attributed to Shakespeare…. There are 422 bona fide words apparently

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Known to have invented/coined/minted over 400 new words, I have put a few (61) together here for my amusement. They are in italics… Enjoy

An Ode to fellow writers who like the written word

I may unearth a little tale that you may think absurd.

 I was born not far from Stratford, birthplace of the ‘Bard’

 easily accessible from my old front yard.

  Well to your amazement you might find this lacklustre

 that I wasn’t really into him, though he was an indistinguishable buster.

 Is not that he’s disgraceful, distrustful or distasteful,

 he simply wasn’t my cup of tea; I know I sound ungrateful.

 I’m not being sanctimonious or engaging in rumination

but I’d rather hang out, if I could with an ill-tempered Dalmatian.

 I know for others, he is king and really hard to rival

 but I think I’m more impartial to reading the blessed bible!

 I’ve been to his house a few times as I’m a little fascinated,

of course the tour began downstairs with a honey-tongued man named David

He had a hunchbacked girlfriend, she was quite a hoot

If she mixed up her lines however, he would show his hobnail boot!

David was ill-tempered this I can’t deny

I heard at their engagement, she had a little cry

I told her not to dwindle, that he was too domineering

she ought to end this courtship and audition for the ‘girl with the pearl earring’.

I don’t mean to be critical but some things just must be said

Of course its circumstantial but I’m not really that well read

I don’t think Shakespeare was fair-faced, he’d had a lot of exposure

but his plays and poems were equivocal in written word disclosure

In his pretty garden there is a rather large footfall

Of people listening to his ‘Acts’; not out playing football

I came across a fortune-teller, suffering with leaky gut

She was a promethean psychic, with a rather large butt

What she said was priceless, over credulous more like

So I became a little hostile and slept on it that night

I think she was a madwoman of that I must lament

she told me that Will Shakespeare, at night to her was sent

as he watched her undress he would have a fitful fap

and when he had quite finished, she would stand up and clap

You see why I am so fretful at this foulmouthed hot-blooded woman

Why would she just stand there while the Bard was ‘coming’

What an auspicious story, it makes me want to shudder

I think she must be lonely and her mind is in the gutter.

His house is quite a wonder, nook-shotten here and there

I even saw his marriage bed when I went upstairs

The guide was watching closely like useful watchdog

Ensuring nothing useless would get past the sod

So here I am to educate myself as I write this

My aim is to humor and of course to reminisce

Because I didn’t know that Shakespeare had invented so many words

I may not be reclusive, but I’m a fairly kickie-wickie girl

I hope you get your moneys-worth if you ever pay a visit

It’s really quite majestic for the time that was in it

I could keep going on and on for there are 422 words minted

By the zany William Shakespeare of which we have been gifted

I’m not one for braggartism so I really will end it here

Don’t be too cold-hearted let me hear some Cheer!

‘we are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with sleep’

The Tempest Act 4, Scene 1

I salute you …. Capt. Tom Moore

Sometimes it is the little things that end up being the big things. Capt. Thomas Moore is a prime example….

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Can I tell you that you’ve moved me

with your simple act of kindness

to walk around your garden

has done more than just to bind us

in uniting in our thanks and praise

it has opened up our eyes

to show that simple gestures

can bring the biggest surprise

a selfless man just ‘helping out’

as you done so in the war

but let me tell you Captain Tom

you have done so much more

you’ve shown a generation of what it means to count

a credit to society, of that there is no doubt

as for the doctors and nurses

for which you bravely fight

the amount you have raised in money terms

is truly an awesome sight

it started with a single step

and caused such a furore

i’d like to say ‘I salute you’

Sir Captain Thomas Moore

I truly hope your birthday

gets the celebration it deserves

your name will be in history books

and forever be preserved

As for your family, a pride they surely feel

and the people who got behind you

it really is surreal

So a round of applause for this great man

and those who have donated

putting your money where your mouth is

without feeling obligated

and thanks to all the medical

and other front line staff

we are so very humbled

as we watch you walk your path

lets hope when this is all over

and we cast a grateful net

of love, of grief, yet hope and peace

lest we forget

Press Pause

in these uncertain times we have enough to worry about. The most important thing to worry about it staying safe and well and keeping others safe and well. Worrying about rent, mortgages, businesses etc should not be part of our burden now. I think the governments, around the world should just press pause, from the beginning of march and reboot, when this is all over, so no more debt accumulates, adding to people’s already enormous burden of keeping well.

press pause
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It didn’t seem so serious, not really

Not at first

Everyone carried on as normal engaging with life

Wrapped up in it, in work or family, despair, debt

The rat race

December, a month of mixed emotions

Full of demands, from excitement to dread

Christmas

A new unexpected trend was banded about this year

It was ‘Corona Virus’

We heard it mentioned, but it was ‘over there’

We carried on as normal, in the rat race

Wrapped up in work, in family, in despair and debt

Beware the ides of March!

Now we began to listen to take notice

It was here, it was everywhere

Stockpile, panic buy, carry on

With daily life, with family, work, despair and debt

Spreading, dying, ignorance and fear

Lockdown

Essential, frontline, social distancing, cocoon

Wash, wash wash your hands

Don’t touch your face

Stay safe at home

Get out of the rat race

Press pause

Flatten the curve, it will save lives

Don’t be a fool, ignorance is not bliss

It is fatal

The world is broke, full of despair, fear and debt

Press pause

Take time to reflect.

Connect

With fresh eyes, find a way

It’s about people and love and life

Humanity

The rat race, dead in the water

It’s a boulder, laying heavy on your shoulder

The graves are the same depth

Press pause

When it’s over, when it’s been contained

Let a new contagion begin

A kind one, a helpful one, a fair one

Not one full of ignorance, hate, debt or regret

Press play and begin anew

Wipe the slate clean

Let families flourish and businesses carryon

Without the noose

We are all in the same boat

Let’s not accumulate the entire ocean in it and sink

A new world, a new world game

The human race

Let’s heal the world, play your part

Let our leaders play theirs

Let them lead, honourably, wisely, honestly and fairly

Press pause

So that we can embrace the pause

So we may cocoon and stay safe at home

So we may slow the spread

So that we may flatten the curve

So that we may not put our essential frontline staff at risk

So that our frontline staff may be rewarded for their bravery

Tenacity and courage

So that when we un-press pause

The new world looks like a brighter place

Not full of despair, like in the rat race

Mothers

The strong, the weary , the substitute and the absent… you are doing a great job….

 

 

happy mothers day card beside pen macaroons flowers and box near coffee cup with saucer
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Mothers,

once were little girls, dreaming of the beautiful world

in which to make their mark

Cuddling their teddy or little rag doll,

not knowing life could be so stark

for becoming a mother gives feelings like no other

in the lightness and the dark

The fear begins at the very beginning

and seems to never abate

the love so great,  hard to contemplate

how to keep you from ever getting hurt

fear of the unknown as we watch you grow

always on high alert

the bonds that they share with the children they bare

is one, only they can know

they prep and they nurture and try not to hurt ya

as they watch their babies grow

into upstanding adults, as they swim without paddles

when finally, they must let you go

They continue to worry, so try not to hurry

just go about life at your best

It’s hard on your mother, to let you discover as

you seek out and fly from the nest

Some, not so lucky to feel this love or have the same strong bond

you may live with another, not your actual mother,

who will love you and hope you’ll respond

for love it can come, in all shapes and sizes

and mother’s can come in all sorts of guises

it’s the love that matters,  no matter life’s tatters

that brings you into the fold

so on this mothers day, all that I pray

is that ‘I love you’, is what’s being told