Penny's Jottings

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