RSS Feed

Monthly Archives: November 2012

Exits and Entrances

Autumn stood at the crossroads
Wearing a golden coat of plenty
Giving a last look at the year
Surrounded by a shallow mist
A russet door stood ajar
Then burst off its hinges
Remnants of leaves took flight
Autumn’s residue trampled by
A darkling thug
A braggart and thief made
Its entrance
Faceless and hooded
Breathing frosted air
Hands of cold compressed steel
That held the dying autumn
By the throat
This mellow boy gasped
His November smile slid
Into the deadly snarl of
Dark shortened days of
Winter stood with autumn
In his arms
Hues of faded reds and
Tainted greens bled slowly
From the fallen season.
Stephen Holloway.
• I like to walk and notice the change in seasons.  Using human form to depict the autumn and winter gave me some scope to see them as the frail disappearing season of beautiful hues, and the brash, bullying season of darkness and chill – making a terrifying entrance.

Love thy Neighbour


Nearing the end of the crossword

All very well, but what then?

Bereft of a purpose, it leaves you

Idle and empty again

What comes of not being a wage share?

Not doing your bit for your bread

Of just getting by on a pension

I’ll tell you: feeling already half dead 

Thank God for places like Oxfam

Where you work the day long doing good

Taking money for excellent causes

Doing something you know that you should

Yes, altruism perhaps is the answer

Crosswords simply will not suffice

If you’re past slogging it out for your living

Help others you fiardnernd is quite nice

By Ron Gardner

The Christmas plant – Poinsettia Pulcherrima





In many countries the poinsettia has achieved cult status during the Christmas season. Attempts to create varieties that made suitable house plants met with success in the 1950s and since then this winter-flowering plant quickly grew to be a permanent feature in Christmas symbolism and decorations. The reason for the enormous popularity of this plant is obvious: the tall star-shaped leaves make it an ideal accompaniment to the existing Christmas symbolism.

Live life for today


Don’t wish your life away

Just live life for today

But we only get back

Whatever we put in,

To wish your life away

Would surely be a sin

There is so much to explore

Life is here to love and adore,

Everyday brings new beginnings,

To see the world smiling

And to hear the birds singing

Through all of the seasons

We breathe this happy life,

We see such wondrous things

That each new day brings,

Each time you wake

Look at the world around you

Feel how good it is to be alive,

Don’t take things for granted

Life is on your side

Gillian Sims

Christmas is around again


Christmas is around again

My how time has flown

I spoke to Father Christmas

I spoke to him on the phone

How are you doing I asked him

You must be very weary

No he replied I am fine

It’s a time to be happy and cheery

I don’t know what he’s on about

Christmas blows my brain

I am only just getting over last year

And now it’s around again

It’s spend, spend, and spend again

That’s all we seem to do

Don’t you think it’s too commercial now?

I do, how about you

Its ho, ho, ho, and he, he, he

And everything that’s funny

If Santa asks me what I want

I’ll say, just give me back my money

We have forgotten what Christmas is

It’s a time for family and friends

Giving love and presents

And the message that it sends

No mater what religion you follow

It’s a time for everyone to know

That we are linked together as a family

In this world where ever we go

So come on Christmas

Let the celebrations begin

Forget how much its cost

Bring on the carols lets sing

Sing the praises of Christmas

Be full of Christmas cheer

Because you know like I do

It will be back again next year
Malcolm Bradshaw

After supper


It was after Jesus and his disciples had finished supper,

A meal which was to become his memorial feast,

That Jesus took a  towel and a bowl of water,

And knelt down to wash the disciples’ feet.


In this lowly task Jesus taught us a lesson,

A lesson which is easy for us to understand,

That after we have gained strength from partaking of the emblems

We should be prepared to meet the need of others in our land.


The sacrament of communion was to be a memorial,

A memorial of his death for those who trust in him,

At the same time it was to be a pledge of their dying,

Not to die a death, but to die to the power of sin.


The fellowship of death to sin is but a preparation,

A preparation for service to our fellow man,

By itself the sacrament is but half a truth,

It requires the sacrament of service to fulfil God’s master plan.


Whether the death of Christ should be remembered only in the feast,

Or if in fact two sacramental acts was intended,

There is no doubt that our communion with Christ should lead to growth.

Failure to serve our fellow man cannot be defended.


Jesus knew that God had given all things into his hand,

His power over everything in Heaven and Earth was complete,

His disciples called him Master and Lord, and so he was,

And yet this man humbled himself to wash the disciples feet.


When we sit down at the Lord’s table it is a privilege,

It is an honour to which we are admitted by grace,

Communion with Christ is one of the highest honours we can achieve,

And it should give us strength to meet the problems we have to face.


Behind the feast lies the basin and the towel,

And it is imperative our responsibilities are not forsaken,

Because the community of spirit implies community of service,

And there is a great deal of service which must be undertaken.


No one can partake of the symbols of the Lord’s supper in truth,

Unless they begin immediately to care for others,

To gird themselves and take a towel and a bowl of water,

To wash away the cares of our sisters and our brothers.


When Jesus took a bowl of water and began to wash the disciples feet,

He taught us several lessons which should be contemplated,

Firstly that it is not our business to point out other people’s faults,

But to ensure that these faults are eliminated.

It may be a useful service to tell people what is wrong with them,

But it is an imperfect work unless we show them how to live in a different way,

Christ was not content to point out sin and weakness,

He knew it was his task to wash these faults away.


He did not use pointed satire, biting scorn or sarcasm,

Weapons which would burn deep into the soul,

They were not the means he used to provide relief,

Only clean towels and water to comfort and to make whole.


He did not play the part of a humorist or satirist,

One who could laugh at other peoples’ faults,

It was his business to wash them all away,

As his followers we should not take up our pens,

With which we could describe the ills of others,

But we should take the basin and towel to ease their pain today.


This is not always an easy thing to do,

Sometimes we are revolted by the actions of our fellow man,

But these are the people who really need us most,

And it’s up to us to do everything we can.


Foot washing not only means lowly tasks,

Sometimes it will be one which tries our natural sensitivity,

But if we are claiming the fellowship of his love and service,

We are called to deal with the world no matter how revolting it may be.


Love has no pride, and love must have no delicacies,

Except those that spring from tenderness and kindness,

These are the qualities that we must try to show,

To the uncaring, the feckless and the mindless.


That is what God would have us do,

Even though we may find our efforts are resisted,

We might be disappointed and wonder if it is all worthwhile,

But we shall find satisfaction in knowing that we persisted.


When Jesus washed the disciples feet he taught us a lesson,

It is not the hearers of the word, but the doers who are justified,

Therefore, the sacrament of communion must be followed by the communion service,

This is the only way that the will of God will be satisfied
By Ron Martin

fe-domestic-appliance                                                                                                                                         26th. November 2012

I wrote this poem last week after seeing an item on the local news about a soldier who committed suicide. He saw a young girl step onto an I.D.E. whilst carrying her baby brother. The little girl died in his arms. Some months later, suffering from P.T.S.D. he was told by the Army to ” Man Up “. That was two months before his death.
As you can imagine I was inspired to write my poem and it came out very quick and raw. Reading it through I can see that it might upset some people but it was not written to shock only to show that everyone has feelings and sensitivities.
Even the battle-hardened serviceman can be affected by the brutality of war and the terrible things he sees can live with him for ever.
Man up soldier
Don’t you cry
Because you saw 
A baby die
Man up soldier
Don’t you moan
Time to show that
You have grown
Man up soldier
Yes it’s rough 
Show your buddies
That you’re tough
A child stepped on
An I.E.D.
So innocent, she
Did not see
You cradled her
And watched her die
And all you do 
Is whinge and cry
Now man up soldier
Hear what I say
Leave it here
Just walk away
Not long ago
They found him where
He hung above
An upturned chair
Don Holmes

A gun or knife for a life



Mums bubbles burst, A brother or sister lay in bed

A hospital bed within 24 hours they are dead

Because someone’s used a gun or a knife,

A young person lays dead

The government just sit and watch

The toll keeps rising another young kids dead,

“Bring back hanging” an MP said an eye for eye

Before all the young kids are dead,

They have burst my mums bubble

A brother or sister lay in bed

A hospital bed within 24 hours, they are dead

Because someone’s used a gun or knife

And taken yet another kid’s life


Thomas Sims

A winters night by Dan Fry

Blow, blow, thou winter wind – your favourite poem

Blow, blow, thou winter wind 
Thou art not so unkind 
As man’s ingratitude; 
Thy tooth is not so keen, 
Because thou art not seen, 
Although thy breath be rude. 

Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly: 
Most freindship if feigning, most loving mere folly: 
Then heigh-ho, the holly! 
This life is most jolly. 

Freeze, freeze thou bitter sky, 
That does not bite so nigh 
As benefits forgot: 
Though thou the waters warp, 
Thy sting is not so sharp 
As a friend remembered not. 
Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly: 
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly: 
Then heigh-ho, the holly! 
This life is most jolly. 

William Shakespeare

We would like to thank everyone for all the wonderful comments.Please keep them coming!

Stem the flow

In choosing bloom which echoes all you are
Such beauty as mine eyes could e’er behold
By searching out, within; both near and far
Hath caused my mind to reach beyond the fold
As held in dreams to nurture midst the soil
Near sheltered walls surrounding garden home
Where ‘Blue Moon’ rose escapes own mortal coil
To stand erect with lilac centre blown
A rare display doth bring to us each day
Concentric petals splayed to greet the sun
Through ‘scented tea’ its fragrance seems to say
“Come hither breathe me in, for I’m the one”
No pointed thorns are deemed to cause one pain
If they perchance should puncture love’s sweet vein 
By Richard Gildea ©2012

Poppy and the little rabbit

On the other hand


Turning nonsense into verses

Amuses me and (rarely) you

Often though I can’t help thinking

There may be better things to do 

Like writing letters to the paper

About what’s wrong with everything

Or taking minutes at a dull meeting,

Composing hymns the good could sing

Making notes from what I’m reading

So some wise words might stay in mind

Drafting lists of resolution, such

As paying unpaid bills I find

Oh lots of things are worth the doing

More than any scribbling here

Living would be organised

Yes indeed, but rather drear

By Ron Gardner

Poetry Competitions

Why not send us your poetry?

This will publish your poetry for free on our website

In an ideal world

In an ideal world

Poverty would not exist

Wars would be a myth,

We would not have to protest

To be put to the ultimate test

In an ideal world

We would all unite

Create an international community

One that is airtight,

Where we wouldn’t be allowed to fight

In an ideal world

We could all travel across the globe

No barriers involved,

To live life to the extreme

No sadness or heartache to redeem

In an ideal world

We would all cherish one another

Like one would nurture a red rose,

We would be kind to our sister or brother

Care more about their whereabouts before time goes

In an ideal world

Twenty four hours would be one month

Lots more living to spare,

For persuing our ultimate dreams

Instead of surviving the dreaded credit crunch

In an ideal world

Travel would be free

To unite families who may live abroad,

Something refreshing for the eyes to see

To have freedom and a whole lot more

In an ideal world

By Gillian Sims

The lady by Sandra Cameron

Peter the Elf

Long time ago deep within the forest

Lived an elf by the name of Pete

He was dressed in all his finery

Wearing clogs upon his feet


He longed to dance the fandango

At the Goblins, fantasy ball

Alas, for Pete he had a problem

In his stocking feet he only two feet tall


This was not going put off Pete

For Pete had a cunning plan

He decided to consult Mary the fairy

He pleaded her to turn him into a man


She cast a magic spell over him

 Placing poor Pete into a whirl

Something went terribly wrong

As she had turned him into a girl


This did not bother Pete the elf

The fandango he danced all night

At midnight the spell wore off

It was then Pete disappeared out of sight


Malcolm G Bradshaw
%d bloggers like this: