Penny's Jottings

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!