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An autumn painting


Autumn, ah it’s a  painting on canvas

With splashes of  colour everywhere

It’s not hidden  away from view

It is an occasion  for all to share

An artist has  created it

With colours of  every shade

The vibrant  shades of beauty

In their splendor  are on parade

Each tree and  shrub stands proud

Making an hypnotic colourful display

Of leaves falling  gently to the ground

Creating a carpet  of colour where they lay

As the winter  winds grow stronger

They tantalize  the fallen leaves

All whipped up in  frenzy

Stripping all the  shrubs and tree’s

Now the canvas  has been completed

The paints and  brushes packed away

Mother Nature  displays her painting

Of the perfect  Autumn Day

Malcolm  G Bradshaw


Image result for removal van imagesImage result for removal van images

Solo By Gillian Sims


The many words she has inscribed upon the page
Reveal the unhappiness and anguish she has known
That she has suffered throughout her life can be seen
For in so many ways she has often felt alone
In her simple words she tries to show
Why it is difficult for her to understand
How life could deal her such cruel blows
Why fate had dealt her a losing hand
And so she picks up her pen to write
For she wants all the world to know
That unhappiness has marred her life
In the same way that the weather is blighted by the winter snow
But life is very much like seasons
The winter snow melts and spring eventually comes again
The sunshine will break through the clouded skies
And happiness will take the place of pain
And so she now faces life with hopes renewed
Knowing here are opportunities that she can take
Opportunities which will give her much satisfaction
And that failing to take them would be a terrible mistake
We can now see that her happiness is returning
But its completion may take a little while
The visions of joy which the future holds
Can now be seen in her winsome smile 
By Ron Martin

You are the one

I close my eyes, and I pray that I’ll dream of you
I’m waiting
for a day when I’ll get your point of view
We’re so alike but
we’re different in many ways
Like fairy butterflies wanna go in
opposite gates

You like shopping, I like reading
I ride a bicycle and you drive rental
I’m so visual and you’re into
We can’t agree on what we wanna do

But out of all
the girls that God and I know
You’re the one that I wanna
How my hearts beats when I’m with you
Cause darling
you’re my baby boo

By Lumiere Le Dumpiere


A Rose by Charles Townsend

STOLEN HANDS – Promote Yourself


Sunday Evening…
All ready I’ve
Suffered enough
Of this
Hopeless rage.
I sit
To try and write it out
My feelings flowing
From blood
To words
On this unforgiving page.

See I once
Held hands
That i
While i plotted lives
With a cold hearted
Now my hands
Only to my
Own skin
The punishment
I deserve
There is no longer
Solace in a
Beautiful face.

I betrayed
My own
Beating innocence
It is now
A cold dead tomb
In which i am burdened
By its weight
With dark skies
And overdue consequences
Time has finally caught on
The price of lies
I’ve discovered
Is beauty
As hate.

Gabriel Denver


I sit at home

So lonely,

No-one there but me,

The house is dark I’m frightened

There is no electricity.

Mum has not paid the bill

I wish my mum was here

I can’t stop these rolling tears,

All I can see is an empty bottle

On the table in front of me.

The clock strikes twelve

She must have lost track,

Because mum is not back.

Once again

Mum’s hitting the Gin.

It’s not fair life like this

Because I’m only six.

My father left some time ago

Because he didn’t wont to know,

I can’t really blame him

He tried but couldn’t stop mum from drinking,

So I’m home alone once again

Living the pain and loneliness.

Thomas Sims

Pat the cat

Pat was a pussy cat

Who was very  fat

Pat got stuck in the cat flap,

They rang the Police

And the Firebrigade,

And the Ambulance too,

But no-one  knew what to do

The policeman asked the fireman

The fireman asked the ambulanceman,

So they pulled his head and then his tail

This made the cat wail

Then they didn’t feed him

So he became quite thin,

Then he popped out of the cat flap

With a smiley grin

By Brendon Wakefeild

 6 years old

With a little bit of help from gran and grandad

Grandad’s mate made a video

It’s on YouTube under Gillian Sims


Believe in me


I’m that face you see strolling by you
In a sea of strangers every morning
I see your eyes shifting away at the right moment
Your affect sheds a little fear as we cross paths
And my eyes hit the ground again
Because you’re gone, rounded the corner
And my eyes search for the end result
While a memory moves through the space
I wonder again at lunch when across the room
Your friends are laughing while unnoticed
My eyes search for your connection
If only just a passing glance I am complete
Again for a couple of hours to relax and dream
That later in the day when our desks are rows apart
We can look across the room and indirectly interact
Quiet moods are real even I believe that can be true
Our lives exist by responding to a passing smile
An acknowledgement that feels real is the peace
That exists when from afar a person can connect
With another human being that gives them hope
Allows that instance to be enough inspiration
Intrigue, delight, fascination, to hold onto their memory
I will appear again in the morning ready for our routine
To cross paths early across the sea with an imagined wink
We are two souls that notice our lives are intertwined
Lacing the tangles that allow ourselves to really believe

Thom Amundsen 2013

Tell Me!

tell me

Why some people do not ponder
Before acting or uttering words of wonder?
Is it out of denseness or narrowness?
Or maybe due to immaturity or impulsiveness?
Or just to vex or show rudeness?
Are they aware of the repercussions
Of their irresponsible actions
and verbal aggression?
Shall we resort to avoidance
Or wear a costume of patience?

© Chaouki Mkaddem

A clouded Imagination

I lay and look into the sky
Watching all the clouds float by,
It’s strange the different shapes I see
Imagining what they could be,
Before they break and the rain falls
They move and mould and create more,
Shapes and things floating free
All the things I wish I could be,
All the animals I’ve never seen
Landmarks of places I’ve never been,
It’s strange to think they are more than just clouds
Imagination taking over the here and now.
Abbe Cutforth

Sunday Afternoon


Jan 1 (5)


I walk to find

 Peace of mind

By the water’s edge,

River bursting from the rain

Still it feels the same

White feathered friends

Swim by my side

Like a dedicated friend,

Creating ripples

Causing no harm

Creating ripples of calm,

A window of still life

Walking by the waters side

A gust of wind now picks up my hair,

I’m in a place where I really don’t care

We should all take the time

To go somewhere tranquil

Searching that  peace of mind


Gillian Sims

A love poem, In French and English hope you enjoy.- The Lost Lovers Poem -YOUR FAVOURITE POEM


Je pense que j’ai finalement traduit de l’anglais vers le français parfaitement!
très dur, mais super boulot moi
Un poème pour envoyer à quelqu’un que vous aimez

C’est ce que j’appelle Les Amants Perdu Poème…..

Je n’ai pas honte de dire ou admettre que c’est vrai.
Je suis un toxicomane mais d’une manière spéciale,
Vous voyez, mon cœur veut juste vous.
I’am un toxicomane à cet amour que je ressens,
depuis le jour où j’ai posé les yeux sur tu que je connaissais.
chaque jour qui se lève mon cœur bat,
et il se demande ce qu’il faut faire.
Votre absence rend mon coeur que vous voulez tu,
et mon corps aspire à votre contact.
L’énergie qui coule dans mes veines,
me donne envie de vous tellement.
Si seulement je pouvais vous tenir,
Et vous avoir à côté de moi.
Peut-être que cette douleur que je ressens à l’intérieur,
allait enfin me libérer libre.
Je t’aime au-delà de tout,
et au-delà des étoiles que je ne peux pas voir.
J’espère juste que tu ressens la même
quand vous dites que vous m’aimez.
Tout ce que je voulais, c’était d’être dans votre cœur demain, hier et aujourd’hui.
et pour nous d’être ensemble et de ne jamais être loin.
J’espérais qu’un jour vous vous rendrez compte,
mon amour pour toi est vrai.
comment vous êtes si parfait à mes yeux.
et comment mon amour pour toi juste grandi.
Il s’agit d’un poème Je voudrais pouvoir vous envoyer.
mais je n’ai jamais reçu votre lettre et je n’avais pas de place pour l’envoyer trop.


translated into English;


I think I finally translated from English to French perfectly!
very hard, but great job me
A poem to send to someone you love

This is what I call The Lost Lovers Poem …..

I’m not ashamed to say or admit that it’s true.
I’m an addict, but in a special way,
You see, my heart just wants you.
I’am an addict to this love that I feel,
since the day I laid eyes on you I knew.
each waking day my heart beats,
and wondered what to do.
Your absence makes my heart want you,
and my body craves your touch.
The energy flowing through my veins,
makes me want you so much.
If only I could hold you,
And have you beside me.
Maybe this pain I feel inside,
would finally release me free.
I love you beyond all
and beyond the stars I can not see.
I just hope you feel the same
when you say you love me.
All I wanted was to be in your heart tomorrow, yesterday and today.
and for us to be together and never be far away.
I hoped that one day you will realize,
My love for you is true.
how you are so perfect in my eyes.
and how my love for you just grew.
This is a poem I wish I could send you.
but I never received your letter and I had no place to send it too.

© tomdavis



Coastal Bluff

Frozen laughter
Slices through salt edged air; 
Squeals of delight echo incongruously,
Weaving amongst deserted chalets.
An ageless orange skyline
Remains subdued as disfigured
Sunshine splinters along
Promenades carpeted with silvery hoar.
Stained faces
Stare seawards, breathing with the tide
And isolated shores confront a
Grey, foaming aggressor:
Seemingly unannounced.
Local with a walking stick:
Standing, sideways,
Huddled beside an arcade,
With a lady who smokes
And a dog that shivers.
The rock emporium is up for sale.
Daylight suffers as a blanket of
Gloom shrouds each stranded folly;
Deep, mournful, marble shadows
A lone tug-boat exhales.
Songs of summer evaporate
Into a clear, star speckled night.
Pier: Victorian, railing, paint peeling,
Lists just a little more,
Groaning amid the waves.
The Punch and Judy man
Stands alone on the beach:
In silhouette;
With wet feet;
Stephen Holloway

Urban breakdown

Urban breakdown, society in
we used to live simply, off the working man’s toil.
stuck together, in good times and bad,
Good family values are what we had.

Then life became too busy, chasing materialistic ideals,
no time
to talk to each other; over family meals.
Greed and selfishness crept in,
and living together was no longer a sin.

Money and false
celebrities became the gods,
and going to church was no longer mod.
became indifferent
and good friends distant.

Now we have so many lives
in a muddle,
with so many young mums left to struggle.
What happened to
free love, the 60s dream?
Why did our lives turn out so mean?

How sad
to see so many relationships fail.
No one said the liberal life, would have
such a sting in the tail.
Whether you live in the country the city or town,
we are all paying the price of the urban breakdown.

By Simon Icke

More of my poems can be found on the Tring People website

Poppy and the ladybird


As Poppy was flying through the trees,

A cry for help was heard

Upon the leaf of a dandelion

She saw a tiny ladybird

Poppy settled down beside the ladybird

To find out what was wrong

The ladybird answered tearfully

All of my beautiful spots have gone

They were stolen by a pixy

When I was fast asleep

Poppy was quite angry

For she knew it was Pixy Pete

He was always being mischievous

So poppy sought the help of a friend

She asked Elvis the elf for assistance

To bring Pete’s thieving to an end

They scoured the forest together

They found Pixy Pete, who looked quite pale,

He was so sorry for his actions

But alas he was put into jail

All the spots were recovered

And taken back to the ladybird

Who was deliriously happy?                                         

As for Poppy, three cheers could be heard.

Malcolm G Bradshaw

Battle of britain by Thomas Sims

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