Penny's Jottings

Maggie’s a hero, a brave fearless pal

someone to look up to, a great type of gal

She tells tales of valour and I am in awe

as she fearlessly strives when most would withdraw

She shares stories of spiders as big as my hand

lurking and crawling as she travels the land

spiders to make an arachnaphobe quake

and she does not speak of those that are fake!

huntsmen just waiting till she enters her car

then cruelly revealing just where they are

spiders seen running across windscreen pane

Then hiding, never to be seen again!

Does she crash the car or burn it quite fast?

does she blow the car up or give fly spray a blast?

does she smack and smack and scream a little?

No she is calm and just a tad nocommittal

she calmly just puts it into a glass

and carefully transports it on to the grass

My hero! my Champion! The apple of my eye

Me? I am shaking, I need a whisky and dry!

I realised today that I ruminate

I listen and watch and cogitate

as the people around me loudly debate

things they love and that which they hate

I listen to all the facts they provide

I listen and learn and try to decide

sometimes my passions light up from inside

I join in with vigour, my source I provide

I become quite intense as I give my perspective

(My ardor can be a little subjective)

for children whose lives are affected by trauma

for the world, which we know, is getting much warmer

for animals ill treated, for cultures degraded

sometimes I fear we are becoming quite jaded

but then if my fervor is not aroused

If the subject in question is not one I’ve browsed

or one that I care for, not my addiction

I become more reflective, causing no friction

does that make me weak, or over compliant?

I can’t decide, I’ll just be silent.

Last night I attended a first

I thought my poor heart would burst

I was out, at night in pyjamas and gown

not confined in the house but out on the town!

I swayed and sashayed up to the pub

past folk all dressed to go to the club

I walked with dignity, head held high

attending my first ‘jama party am I

I shuffled, they stalked, I shambled they walked

I laughed, they stared, I smiled they glared

I felt so happy, relaxed and woke

as I joined the party of like clad folk

The party was full I saw B1 and B2

Onesies and fleeces, silk clothed people too

what joy, what food, what chatter, what fun

My first pj party, I’m geared for the next one

Then on my way home a young person stopped dead

looked at me in my jamas, ‘Respect’ she said

Made my night!

I think of your smile, your curly hair

your voice in my head when you are not there

Your vigour, your purpose your laughter too

but most of all I think of you

I think of my youth, I was such a pain

But you forgave me again and again

I remember the dogs , you had quite a few

always loyal, they loved only you

I remember our chats, our serious talks

The way you loved pudding and dodgy cliff walks

you drank dandelion tea and loved gardening too

How can I manage this life without you?

I’d come home from school to a note on the door

‘we’ve gone for a picnic’, my heart would soar

The sad times, the fun times, you were just there

sharing wisdom and laughter, putting rags in my hair

I am lucky to have known you, to have you on my side

a champion on my journey, a kind, helpful guide

I’ll miss you this mother’s day, no flowers to send

You will be in my heart till my life’s end

Today I am having a pyjama day I had one yesterday too

I don’t do it very often but it’s a lovely thing to do

to loll in the house like a lady with nowhere else to go

wrapped up warm and cosy, no-one will ever know

I feel relaxed and decadent, lazy and unhurried

I have so many things to do, but strangely am unworried

I have watched a doco on TV about a psycho man

I have chatted on the phone and made a birthday plan

I have done a little washing, but I haven’t made my bed

I thought I would indulge myself and write this poem instead

I am feeling self absorbed and vain, smug and a little glad

I have had a few events this year that made me very sad

I have reflected on relationships and things that make me mad

Today I’m on a mission to pamper my each and every need

To hedonistically enjoy a day of self indugent greed

so roll on morning tea time, a cuppa and a book

curled up in comfy ecstasy in my own favourite nook.

Last night as I said a final farewell to my sister

I thought of her, our childhood, our family

I reflected on her life, her sadness, her pain

I considered how her life could have been different

I censored my actions, my thoughts, my values

I pondered on beliefs based on flimsy foundations

grief is tough, it wakes me up in the night accusing

Shouts out what I could have done differently

digs in deep to winkle out my pettiness

However life goes on, what is past is done

I have choices, I can wallow in regret and sadness

or I can get on with what time I have left

fill it with the unconditional regard of friends,

The joys of family, the special ‘grandy’ times

So many times I suggested that Leslie record her blessings

Now is the time for me to record mine.

Leslie has left us, she left in a hurry,

Those left behind are all in a flurry.

We miss her presence, her ready smile,

We wish she was here to chat for a while.

There are things we would like to say to her face,

To mention her kindness, caring and grace,

To speak of her resilience and her strong will,

Her laughter that echoes in our memory still.

When I first met Leslie she was oh so small

with a sweet little face and a lacy shawl

she was born with closed fists and a lot of pluck

Dad named her Slasher and that name stuck

She was feisty and loud and stubborn and strong

as she marched through life with a will and a song

she was clever and canny and had a very quick wit

she loved to sew, cross-stitch and knit

Leslie was thoughtful and full of compassion

she loved all creatures but for dogs had a passion

she was a talented singer with a resonant sound

she once sang in Sydney with her hat on the ground

as I reflect on my sister and the years that have past

our childhood together rushed by so fast

she was better at puzzles and beat me at games.

She was clever with crosswords, remembered folk’s names

In my mind she is still that determined young girl

who walked her own path with a vigorous twirl

she will remain with me until I depart

tucked away safely deep in my heart.

I found the letters you wrote to your sister and read them

was I wrong? should I have burnt them or shred them?

I read how you felt when she passed and you missed her

I read how you pleaded for the help of your sister

I read of your worries, your shame and your fears

I read what you hid from us across the years

as I read each letter full of love and reflection

I relived your loving, close knit connection

I remembered when both of you walked the earth

finished each others thoughts, buckled with mirth

shared a love so deep it transcended death

was alive and warm till you took your last breath.

In my mind you are once more reunited

walking freely, friendship and love reignited,

The love of two sisters, from birth to leaving

you are together and I shouldn’t be grieving.

Life goes on, inexorably, slowly edging forward into the unknown

Opening pockets of loss, revealing sudden sensations of grief

A smell, a comment, the tears erupt, breathing is laboured

Chest feels constricted and the brain becomes fuzzy and sad

My heart is heavy in my chest, my head is heavy on my shoulders

My throat is constricted, all because I looked for what was missing

I looked for a comment, a word, a phone call, I looked for love

I looked for meaning, I found a space, a large, looming gap

I looked for comfort and found it in my friends and family

It rains a lot in Cornwall, and the wind is blustery too

There is mud from one end to the other, we all know that is true

I have walked the coastal paths with unsteady, slippery gait

Avoiding rain filled puddles and trying not to skate

I have walked on misty mornings where the view is just a peek

A promise of what’s to come, a beauty quite unique

The rolling greenness of the hills, the birdsong overhead

The bluebells glowing in the woods, the badgers all abed

The glorious blue of a sun-soaked sea, surfers in the rain

The villages seeped in history, many secrets they retain

The raucous call of the seagull, the glimpse of a hunting seal

The thorny scratch of a blackberry bush,  the berry’s juicy appeal

I have seen the buzzard overhead, coasting by easily

I have watched the tall ships sailing by, flying by breezily

I recall the ghosts of previous walks, companions now long gone

The chat, the laughter, the wonder shared, I never feel alone

Cause they are with me on the coastal path, we are never apart

We walk together companionably, in the centre of my heart

Sometimes I feel alone when I’m surrounded by good folk

Where my values and opinions are defined as feminist and woke

And the demands of polite behaviour makes me want to choke

I hear my voice and deep inside I wish I had never spoke

Sometimes my age defines me and people think I’m cute

And laugh at every utterance, and tell me I’m a hoot

Sometimes I am seen as wise and regarded as astute

But I long to dance a jig in a hat and birthday suit

There are times I’m on my own and have inner conversations

When I reflect upon the journey of myself and my relations

And I linger on the dangers of miscommunications

Wondering if my children will acheive their expectations

Gender, age and race, ability and status

Inhibit and restrain how folk around us rate us

Our passions and beliefs influence them to like or hate us

And we can end up in a group of people who just bait us

When I am alone I’m rarely lonely, my thoughts are always turning

My busy brain is analysing the issues that are concerning

From my family to wars and global forest burning

But sometimes, in groups, I feel loneliness returning.

Bother, dash and blast!

This year’s gone by so fast!

I’m feeling a little dizzy

but I have been very busy

I went on holiday on train

I went to UK on a plane

I’ve sung with friends in Tassie

I’m a very busy lassie!

I’ve shared many lunches

eaten countless brunches

of books I’ve read many

I havent saved a penny!

I’ve farewelled a special pal

a much loved, lovely gal

I work two days a week

my bank account looks bleak

I’ve loved family and friends

Now the year comes to an end

I wait for granchild number eight

(who has missed the arrival date)

this year has gone so fast

looking back, it’s been a blast

I have read a book or two

tales of love and derring do

where women scream

and children dream

and men are tough

but sweet and gruff

I have entered the lives of ancient folk

highway robbers in mask and cloak

I have felt the fear of being stalked

and seen the road with body chalked

I have endured the stress of Austen’s stories

where women live to praise men’s glory

I have read fantasy, horror and fairy tales

unable to sleep for the plight of whales

I have been scared to death and bored to tears

and when I look back from across the years

I wonder how many hours I’ve expended

avoiding various jobs that have pended

‘But here’s the rub’ (is that misquoted?)

When there’s a good book the rest is outvoted

My decision to attend a book club was laudable

so many books and now I’ve joined Audible!

I woke to the patter of heavy rain, a dark, damp morning

Overcast, dull and wet, wet, wet. A misly, drisly blowy day

I could hear cars swishing and sloshing in the flooded road

Drearily I joined the crawling queue, car rocking in the wind

Car radio booming out tales of war, violence and loss

Wipers swishing rhythmically, heater blowing cold air

Young people trudging, reflecting the misery, soaked

Shop lights flickering, people running, dodging cars

Then , there on the pavement, on a cold, wet dark morning

There was a woman, clothed in black, with white shiny boots

Flowing blonde hair and a transparent umbrella

As I watched she twirled and skipped and clicked her heels

She danced in the rain, in the heavy downpour she swayed

She cavorted,  she pranced, she jumped, hopped and span

The rain flew off her umbrella as she pirouetted

The puddles splashed and twinkled as she tapped and stamped

I watched, laughter spilling, dreariness forgot

I watched as she walked on, my spirits lifted

Are you okay? Is it OK to say

you look a bit down in the mouth today?

Are you ok? Is the future so bleak

You don’t want to meet it? Not even a peek?

Are you ok? Do you hide what you feel?

Smiling a smile that isn’t quite real?

Are you ok? Is life just too hard

Have you been dealt an impossible card?

Are you ok? Can we share a cuppa?

a laugh, a story till we’re on an upper?

RUOK?

In Cornwall, when I visit, I find the earth is soft and gentle

The sights and aromas make me feel quite sentimental

I love the bluebells in the spring

The joy listening to birds sing

But driving on the roads drives me mental

I love walking on the cliffs and the pounding wavy beaches

The pasties and the pubs, and the guls loud screeches

I love the cream, oh my! that cream

With scones and jam, what a dream

But the windy, tiny roads leave me speechless

Brass bands on the green, marching vigorously with zest

Cornish folk singing lustily, will Trelawney ever rest?

I love the sound of a Cornish choir

There’s nothing more that I admire

But the hedge surrounded roads are not the best

I love pub lunches, and a knickerbocker glory

Cornwall is so peaceful; there’s time to share a story

I love the ice cream and the flowers

I gaze at scenic views for hours

But the roads, no room for cars, are quite hoary!

My sister dear was born today

Well, a few years ago I have to say!

My mentor my idol, my senior by five

My perfect goal to which I strive

Held up to me as an idol to follow

(Not always an easy pill to swallow)

‘Look at your sister, she’s pretty and nice

Follow her closely’ was the constant advice

She’s clever and quiet and lovely to see

And so much better when compared to me

everything she does is exemplary

With a kind approach packed with empathy

Even though in comparison I don’t make the grade

I love my big sister, and I’m quite undismayed

She’s intelligent and funny and always ready

To keep my thinking clear and steady

We live far away, and I wish we were nearer

Cause I love her to death and want to be near her

My friend Liz died today

such a popular woman, kind and warm

she died of breast cancer, insidious, ugly disease

she was in palliative care with her loved ones around her,

caring for her

loving her

till she took her last breath

we didnt meet often over the last few years

when we met it was as if we had never parted

my friend Liz

had many friends

when we spoke she told me she had been a good woman

she hoped that she would meet her son Aidan when she died

I hope so too

I am crying for my friend Liz

I had a dream I was given a hat

not a Melbourne Cup hat

but a real fancy hat

a smart hat, a clever hat, but light as a feather

a hat that instinctively protects from the weather

a hat with a miniscule oven installed

with sausages and buns, now don’t be apalled

an empathic hat. it knew what I was thinking

played a little light music, encouraged my drinking

when it rained it closed up and a brolly emerged

in the sun it sprayed sunscreen without being urged

I woke up this morning and I felt for the hat

gone, not a trace of it, I was quite flat

I loved the feel of that hat on my head

the comfort, the fit, the thinking ahead

Tonight I might dream of a comical cat

or a robot that speaks or a sweet talking rat

but deep in my heart I hope its not that

I hope its my clever, empathical hat

I am still in my sleepwear and its well after two!

My hair is unbrushed! Oh what a to do!

I’m unshowered, ungroomed, unshod and unclad

I’m a little ashamed and feeling quite bad

In my defence I may say that I was feeling quite weary

my life is quite full, and a book made me teary

Playing games till the wee hours made my eyesight quite bleary

Though an occasional win made the losing less dreary

so I crept out of bed, after a hot cup of tea

and sat in a chair with the dog on my knee

checked socials and emails and played one last Wordle

gazed at the clock and felt my blood curdle

I am still in my sleepwear and its very nearly three

Well…. I think I’ll have lunch and a nice cup of tea

sitting in my kitchen sipping tea, picking up the strands of my life

reflecting on the past six weeks, hectic, busy, catching up

family fun and laughter, whisky and coke (dad turning in his grave)

joys and sorrows of time passing, time wasting, time standing still

listening to each other, envy, love, joy and pain intertwining

lives changing passively and actively, lives altering painfully

the joy of being home, the sorrow of leaving,

I see life as a pattern made from multi coloured string

a non linear, loose, ever changing pattern

where love, hate, excitement, boredom and sorrow mingle

where safety and danger challenge each other

where duty, sensitivity and love are decimated by ego

where questions overflow and answers disappear.

sitting in my kitchen, reflecting on the pattern of my life

tis the night before travelling the house is a mess

there are unpacked clothes and a feeling of stress

As I work faster the mess is not less

what will I take? did I clean the loo?

there are a million things left for me to do

I’ve got to complete my work projects too 

download my stories, decide what to wear

pack my passport, style my hair

hoping my phone battery will last till I’m there

I’ll just pat the dog and plan out the day

prioritise my work and get each job underway

I wish I was organised but that’s not my way

the pools a bit green and the yard needs a weed

the carpet needs cleaning and I need a feed

the car needs a clear out, the dog needs a lead

Ah well what’s forgotten will be here when I’m back

It will all be completed before I hit the sack

Up with the lark then to clean up and pack

Hooray ! Im gonna be off tomorrow! 

I had a dream about Rob and Stace, hand in hand

Spending 25 years in ‘happily ever after’ land

where the air is sweet and there are no stresses

and Rob is in tights and the Stacey wears dresses

where people don’t argue, and children behave

and the women are dainty and the men oh so brave

and marriages last to each final last breath

when they swear to each other a love after death.

but no! I was dreaming, they are not in that place.

they are here, where stresses are quite common-place

where challenges erupt and values clash

where decisions are made for the after-school dash

where work is imposing and communication lacks

where misunderstanding makes us stop in our tracks

where children are challenging everyday rules

and where families clash with the values of schools

where life is expensive, and bills are arriving

and the grass needs mowing and weeds are thriving

where dreams are shattered, and children are sick

and life hurries on, years pass by so quick.

But Stacey and Rob have stood strong through it all

With love and affection and an occasional brawl

Shoulder to shoulder and backs to the wall

Meeting each challenge in their own unique way

supporting each other through work, rest, and play

and that’s what it’s about at the end of the day

25 years but who’s keeping score?

Here’s hoping they enjoy 25 more!

Christmas comes but once a year

and I have had my share, I fear

seventy seven to be precise

with memories of sugar mice

making yards of paper chains

hoping for snow not drizzly rain

eating nuts and iced Christmas cake

Hoping that Santa was kind and not fake

(scared cause I knew I had not been good)

hoping for money in my serve of plum pud

sherry and cream and hot mince pies

eating was constant but not too wise

Christmas in Oz with the hot sun burning

bikini clad cook cold recipes learning

and all through the years, the trials and tears

the turbulent world with escalating fears

The fires and the pestilence, the damaging floods

the countries war torn and covered in blood

here am I in my seventy seventh year

glad I am healthy and that I’m still here

Lucky and hopeful and full of good cheer

counting my blessings, those I hold dear

Today is a new day, yesterday is done, tomorrow unknown

Today I heard that my brother-in-law is sentenced to 24 years in jail

I am elated, sad, overwhelmed, weeping and dancing

His sentence is 24 years, theirs a lifetime

I have watched powerful young people reveal their vulnerabilities

personal stones publicly turned over to show the grubbiness beneath

Their worlds a whirpool of sadness, regret, anger, paranoia and suspicion

and he is in Jail for 24 years

I have witnessed survivors proudly lifting their heads and saying ‘me too’

I have witnessed the positive power of support and love

I have witnessed the far reaching effect of the pain of abuse

My kin, my sorrow, my anger, my mistakes, but its not about me

The journey continues

Constantine is buzzing, the news has got around

There’s excitement in the air and a tremor in the ground

There’s a shake of non-believing, the community’s come alive

Who can comprehend it, Mollie is one hundred and five

There’s an order in for champagne, sausages on sticks

Sally’s making cakes, and we’re getting yummy dips

There’s some music from the twenties and banners up as well

The invites gone to everyone; they’re all coming I hear tell

The people are amazed as they look around with awe.

‘She don’t look 105’ they say, ‘she’ll live 100 more’

‘aint she wonderful’ we hear and ‘she’s a mentor’ too

‘She’s amazing’ said admiringly, and that is all so true

She has lived through wars and turbulence and dogs and cats galore

She’s had so many children we are glad there are no more

She’s an artist and a gardener and a loving Mum and friend

She lives life with a passion that we hope will never end

She has a message from the Queen and now one from the King

We will all sing Happy birthday and let the rafters ring

I’m told this life’s soon over; you may as well be loud and bold

Enjoy what life you have and get wonderfully, marvellously, disgracefully, magnificently old!

Just like Mollie!

When travelling its clear to see that its easier when it’s just me

I catch a train, a bus a plane and then I make it home again – simple

Travelling with chorus is not the same, we have to play the waiting game

The time consuming waiting game, the constant, patient, waiting game

The ‘where are you?’ texts and the ‘what are we doing nexts?’

The hailing, calling and waving, the table and multi chair saving

The constant losses of jackets and phones, the worry if one person’s left all alone

The hours spent working out where we’ll all meet, the crocodile sauntering off down the street

The loo breaks and food breaks and nap breaks and drink breaks

The gasp, crying laughter, the rib aching laughter, The loud raucous laughter

And when we are together we sing,

We sing in our rooms, in the halls, in the street, we sing with like minded people we meet

We sing in the pub, in the park, in the night, we sing as a chorus to other’s delight

We have lifted our voices and sung in a plane, Oh how I would like to do that again!

Travel with chorus? Bring it on!

Theres a baby in the house and we’re living in a mess

smiling, screaming, pooping, he’s very hard to dress

The dog is so dejected, feeling quite neglected

underneath the high chair collecting food that’s been ejected

Theres a baby in the house and toys in every space

cars, books and lego scattered around the place

eating porridge with his hands, careless where it lands

expecting instant gratification for whatever he demands

Theres a baby in the house with a smile to melt your heart

and a scream to peirce the eardrums if he thinks you are apart

crawling around at breakneck speed, scattering books he cannot read

gazing hungrily at my food with soulful, overt greed

Theres a baby in the house and I can’t put up my feet

read a book, watch a show, unless he is asleep

but then when he is sleeping, round the house I’m creeping

trying to get the place in order before I hear him squeaking

Theres a baby in the house and it really is quite fun

He is full of life and vigour until the day is done

with a giggle and a smile, and a wiggle of his bum

he has his ancient granny wrapped around his thumb

What is love? How is love defined?

where do I find it? how do I express it?

is love unconditional, unquestioning, all accepting?

is lust love? Or just a primeval urge to procreate?

after lust comes comfort, acceptance and liking

if we are lucky.

is friendship love? Or a need to obliterate lonliness?

a desire for safety? a wish to be accepted? an addition to self?

is family love? or following an accepted pathway of tradition?

When we talk of love do we reveal a projected feeling of need?

do we express love only to increase our own circle of happiness?

when I say ‘I love you’ what does that encompass?

do I love the person I wish to see through my own lens of comprehension?

Or am I loving the facsimile of myself

sometimes I feel love flow out of me, it is warm and mystic and embracing

sometimes I feel love flow out of me it is sad and cool and questioning

sometimes my heart feels full and my head throbs with love

love is thrown round easily, phone calls end with a light ‘love you’

we talk of loving art, loving holidays, loving dogs, loving kids

what of marriage? is marriage love with its boiling pot of mixed emotion?

jealousy, anger, violence, pride, control, acceptance, excitement etcetera!

what is love? No clues!

They’re off on an adventure

seeking for fullfillment

looking for a new life

and I’m not crying

they’re driving to their future

to a life of sunshine and sea

the unknown beckons to them

and I’m not sad

Their car is overflowing

the boats fixed on the roof’

They are moving far away

I’m happy for them

A new life is calling to them

a siren song of hope

a rainbows end in sight

I’ll miss them

They’ve left a mighty chasm

The dog and whisky too

a sad old mum and some mangoes

Alright! I’m crying!

Everything that begins has an end

nothing stays the same

from the first whisper to the last gasp

the circle is complete

from ovulation to the grave

from glimmer to execution

change is inevitable,

change

moving on

moving through

moving

nothing stays the same

the world clanks on with inevitable monotony

excitement for the futue

reflection on the past

past memories,

past loves

past elation, past devastation

Everything that begins has an end

even me!

I didn’t know I would mourn the Queens loss

I didn’t think that I’d give a toss

But there I was with a tear in my eye

Watching with sadness her coffin pass by

I am no Royalist I’d state with a grin

All that pomp and wealth isn’t taking me in

But when I look back on Christmas’s past

(and yes the number of those are quite vast)

There is the Queen in all her glory

Giving a rundown of the past years story

Her hats, her handbags, her sensible shoes

Her stoic smile through the worst of the news

She was a hard-working woman just like me

With kids and dogs and a nice cup of tea

When I was six I stood in the street

Waved a flag and got sore feet

I was there at the beginning and now at the end

Though I never met her and she wasn’t my friend

I think I will miss her, she was part of my life

may she rest in peace, no more earthly strife

Two under two what a brave thing to do,

Juggling appointments and schedules too

Tantrums and nappies and sweet baby’s talk

Vomit and dribbles, a scream filled walk

Two under two what a stressful thing to do

No time for a wash and I need the loo,

My bed is not made and I haven’t got dressed

Toys underfoot, the house is a mess

Two under two where did my life go?

I work hard all day with nothing to show

No social life, I Just lost my touch,

I’m sleep deprived, I miss sleep so much

Two under two no time to clean

My nipples are sore, is it too early to wean?

I don’t have the time to mop the floor

To dust and polish is what I did before

Two under two what an Exhausting thing to do,

the toddler wont sleep, baby cries on cue

I just long to rest,  to put up my feet

To be able to chat with the people I meet

Two under two what a difficult thing to do

The toddler is painting the walls a pale blue

The baby is crying, the husband is stressed

We’re all eating fast food, my hair is a mess,

Two under two is just too much to do

there’s washing piling up, and it’s raining too

dishes in the sink, Cocomelon on repeat

a hot cup of tea would be such a treat

Two under two what an Amazing thing to do

Both healthy and happy and beautiful too

watching them grow with joy and pride

We love every minute my husband and I

By Heather Lees with a little help from her mum

Tis Christmas in July and time for celebration

No Santas flying by, no garish decoration

No stocking hanging up to receive expensive gifts

Just meeting up with friends to give ourselves a lift

No planning secret Santa, no spending too much cash

No frantic buying frenzy, no midnight bargain dash

No cooking up a turkey on a hot midsummer day

No family treats and tantrums, no people here to stay

No Christmas cards to monitor (there may be more to send)

No children’s Santa letters with demands that never end

No wine spilt on the carpet, no prawns to wrap and freeze

No water guns or bombs, no crying children to appease

No regrets for buying presents for folk who spend much less

No farewelling friends and family and cleaning up the mess!

No receiving gifts unwanted with a smile and pretend joy

No outward relaxed presence when treading on a toy (specially lego)

But its Christmas in July and a time that we will treasure

No stress, no pain, no tension, just an evening of pleasure

We’ll sing a song or two just to get us in the mood

And then we’ll have some fun and games and eat a lot of food

Hooray for our midwinter cause its cold and wet and breezy

And winter clothes are loose and long and never feel too squeezy

So eating up a Christmas meal in winter is real easy

But we will have to be aware that summers on its way

And swimsuits will betray us all on our next Christmas day

Its my birthday once more

I really cant keep score!

am I fifteen or thirty eight again?

the years rush by so fast

has a year really passed?

I missed it while singing in the rain

I am fit to a degree

well… fit as I can be

fat and feisty, and face life with a grin

I’ve seen many sights

had magic sleepless nights

and I’m happy to wear the shoes I am in

I saw Elvis from the start

Cliff Richard won my heart

Bobby Dylan gave me food to think

I loved the Beatles sound

and Queen’s ‘Champion’ pound

experiences pass by in a blink

I have little to regret

and maybe there’s time yet

to empty my bucket of desires

footloose and fancy free

There is just George and me!

do I have time to set the world on fire?

There you are

A kind man, doing kind things

Known for your kindness

Being kind

There you are

A wicked man

Doing wicked things

Known for your wickedness

Being wicked

Blended

Combined

Joined

Unified, one.

The mouth open

Smiling

Snarling

Open and smiling and snarling

The eyes wide

Winking

Glaring

Wide and winking and glaring

The hands soothing

Gentle

Beating

Soothing, gentle and forcing

The shadow of evil hovers and darkens

Memories re-formed and reproduced

Love tainted with fearful suspicion

Love tainted with fearful suspicion

Nothing is the same

A lifetime changed

Everything is changed,

Everything is changed

No person is all good or all bad

But the good crumbles

Lost forever

gone

There you are, two-faced man

Kind and loving, cruel and wicked

Goodness erased by evil

You only have one face

Our book club’s kind of fun,

right back when it begun

we would seriously analyse the book

But then we got to chat

And really that was that

The chosen text never got another look

we confide to each other

about our skills as a mother

and the challenges of getting men to work                     

we talk of working pressure

the joy and pain of leisure

and the silence of our own teenage jerk

We discuss our mental health  

And our lack of personal wealth

And constant harassment from the boss

We talk of love and hate

And our latest online date

And the overwhelming stress of grief and loss

We laugh with each other

And we cry with each other

We give praise when one of us does well

We eat with each other

And we drink with each other

We share what we swore we’d never tell

 Our book club’s kind of fun

But the book’s not number one

We have lots of other topics to discuss

We have gossip to be done

And that is much more fun

we just love to be together with just us

I love to sit in an English pub and just hear what the folk have to say

whether its talk of the local weather or the news item of the day

there’s chatter about the cricket, and the disastrous last football game

and talk of political failures and the fact that Boris is to blame

but most of all the talk’s about dogs, as folks enter with one in tow

what a lovely dog? what is it? and how much bigger will it grow?

There’s a general discussion on training and tales of each well loved pet

of what is the best and the worst of the breed, and what dog not to get

There’s chat on the various diets and the exercise each canine needs

theres a long , excited, discussion on bad tempered dogs off their leads

There’s shared stories on ways to travel and not leave the dog behind

To avoid planes and ships, and take shorter trips, dogs comfort on their mind

There’s muttering tales of those people who fail to scoop up the poop

and the sad tales of long lost, loved pooches, to depress the listening group

The English are fun loving people and the pubs are both cosy and nice

but beware if you mistreat a doggy, the air will turn into ice

Ah I love to sit in an English pub and hear all the chatter around me

I love that the locals include me and I engage with the ones that surround me

and I really love dogs, well I love some dogs, but I have very little to say

when the conversation inevitably leads to the dog story of the day

The dog made me go for a walk

He looks at me like he could talk

I said it might rain

He looked sad again

So I put on my shoes with a squawk!

He wagged as I put on his lead

Sniffed each passing tree as he peed

He ran through wet grass

Got leaves stuck on his arse

Ran forward and back at great speed

He barked at a sitting black cat

But it didnt stop for a chat

He pooped and I scooped

Some passing bird swooped

Not sure what he thought about that

The rain then fell down from the skyI

In my hair, down my back, in my eye

The dog had more fun

The rain made him run

And the slippery path made me sigh

We got home and he ran round the place

Rolled on carpet to dry his wet face

Shaking droplets around

Chewing things that he found

Not caring that he’s in disgrace!

I cant watch the news it upsets me

guns, bombs and deaths really get me

I cant bear to see the reality

the blood, grief and loss,

the war noise and ruins

the hopeless and helpless and weakness and strength

for what?

I cant watch the news its so sad

when the fires and the floods are so bad

I cant bear to see the reality

the fear, hope soon dashed

The tired, shocked looks

the brave and the stalwart the grief and the gain

so tough

I cant watch the news its not good

when COVID don’t do what it should

I dont want to see the reality

the masks, fear and death

the anxiety growth

the old and the frail, the grief and the loss

just sad

I wont watch the news it’s too clear

it describes what I dont want to hear

I dont want to see the reality

inhumanity’s rife

The world’s in strife

murder and mayhem and wickedness rule

we are fools

Covid hit hard in 21

With isolation for everyone

We met on Zoom and sang alone

Out of sync, no overtone

Nerryl kept the chorus going

Therese got the straws a-blowing

We sang to each other with solo rotation

We learnt of pitch and music notation

( I tried to succeed at the Kahoot quiz

But the answers escaped me, you know how it is)

We got vaccinated, feeling smug

Full of the AstraZeneca drug

Then we met by the river, together again

Trying to learn a new refrain

Trying to make just one breath last

To hold a long note, like we did in the past

Phew! It’s impossible!

But we’re all still here and that’s a plus

It’d take more than COVID to separate us!

Christmas is coming we’re singing out

Better not cry, better not pout

Cause 2022 is a shiny new year

We’ll receive it with joy, and a smidgeon of fear

I hope Christmas is good for everyone

And together we’ll boot out 2021!

Oh spider in my skimmerbox I wish that you weren’t there

I just bent down to empty it, you gave me quite a scare

You scuttled round a corner but your legs are still on view

I may be so much bigger but I am terrified of you

I gave a squeal, my fear is real, I stepped back in a rush

my bare feet slipped, I nearly tripped and grabbed on to a bush

Oh spider dear, I am full of fear, I fetched a can of spray

on my return, I was to learn, that you had crawled away!

Now spiders are so scary, specially huntsmen up too close

I’d rather face a long brown snake or a nasty covid dose

but scarier still says my beating heart

is when the spider decides to depart

and I cant see him!

Christmas is over, the family’s all gone

The left over ham has been sliced from the bone

The trifle is soggy, there is no more pud

the salad is drooping, the cream is no good

There’s jokes from the crackers screwed up on the floor

The wreath is no longer straight on the door

The pool is recovering from post dinner dips

The pantry is bulging with left over chips

The dog is searching for food on the ground

There’s mistletoe hanging but no-one around

There’s three hidden bullets from kiddies Nerf guns

a toothbrush, some undies and hard stale buns

The pavlova is still in its box on the shelf

Nobody wants it, not even myself

presents all opened, Christmas games played

The dog and I tired, cleaning delayed

Christmas is over, the family’s not here

but the tree is still standing, the fridge full of beer

I’m recalling the laughter, the food and the fun

The childrens bright smiles, the hot burning sun

The baby’s loud chatter, the rolling eyed puns

Ah! Christmas is over but the memories are here

And we’ll do it again at the end of next year!

There is a dead spider on my roof

stiff and silent and aloof

clinging on to what was home

now he is dead and all alone

well you arachnids all were warned

I said ‘skedaddle’ but my words were scorned

I said ‘leave now’ but you didn’t leave

so now your family is bereaved

I told you all to live out doors

dont come in here and poop on my floors

dont scare me rigid and make me scream

dont wiggle your way into my dream

just stay in the garden and lure insects in

weave a web next to my bin

I will not kill you if you do what I say

If I see you ouside I will walk away

but here in my house I will squash and smack

and spray and shoot and be on attack

so dear little insects don’t come in my house

whether cockroach or spider or little wood louse

Just keep away and enjoy a full life

away from all deadly trouble and strife

unless a bird gets you!

I called my Mum today

hearing the phone ring

I picture her hearing it too

her voice

she always knows its me

we shared tales of her children and their children and my children and their children

we talked of failures and successes

heartbreak and happiness

losses and gains

we mentioned COVID

we spoke of kindness and comfort

we talked for more than an hour

we will talk again

I wasn’t always kind and it creeps up on my mind

The things I did or didn’t do, to friends both old and new

When I tattled on a friend, drove my parents round the bend

wagged off school, played the fool, thought I was really cool

I stole a boy from a girl, then dropped him like a churl

I flirted, twirled and won a heart I didnt want from the start!

I was nasty to my Mum, I thought she was really dumb

Hated my dad, was really bad, thinking back makes me sad!

I came to OZ tried to fit in, lots of hearts for me to win

laden down with homesick tears, and arachnaphobic fears

I look back with timorous glance and recall my parenting dance

not always nice, just roll the dice, hoping that love will suffice

I recall when I’ve been mean, it haunts me when I dream

I have gossipped with the best, put many friendships to the test

enjoyed the thrill of the chase, an exciting, robbed , embrace

upset many folk, with a misplaced joke, laughing fit to choke

I have regrets, oh so many, I am the original bad Penny

Now I approach the final bend, I dont think I’ll change the trend

lots of gossip to be spread before they pronounce me dead

bring it on, lots more fun, lots more laughter before I’m done!

sorry!