Penny's Jottings

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?

I miss you in the morning when you trundle down the hall

dog skipping cheerily beside you

I miss breakfast with you, counting the birds, chatting

crossword puzzles rejected

I miss the shining morning faces, loving faces

caring for and loving you

I miss the orderliness of your day, the structure

each day with its own rhythm

I miss the visitors, kind faces, offering love

giving joy, food, laughter, gossip

I miss the buzzzing of the bees, the song of the birds,

nagging seagulls, mooing cows, church bells

I miss being beaten at cards and Upwords with hand drawn letters

I miss lazy afternoons fixing world problems

I miss four o clock visits and struggling with jigsaw puzzles

I miss nights of Midsomer Murders

Most of all I miss you

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!

Happy birthday once more, what a life you have had

A long and a happy one, for that we are glad

You have seen three Kings and a Queen in your life

Seen the Empire shrink through trouble and strife

You’ve seen Hitler rise and then fall through a fight

Watched suffragettes struggle to achieve women’s rights 

Seen Wall Street crash, heard Churchill speak

Saw Elizabeth crowned and married to a Greek

Saw rockets on the moon and jet planes soar

Cars that can steer and so much more

You watched Brexit with interest and thought it a farce

Lived well through Covid though company was sparse 

You’ve travelled the world and embraced different cultures

You’ve loved gardens and art and many strange sculptures

You rise with the sun with a project in mind

A painting, a photo, your ‘hearings’ to find

There’s never a day when you’ve nothing to do

It’s exhausting to be in the same house as you!

What a life, what a woman, what a wonderful day

One hundred and seven, what can I say?

Happy birthday dear Mum I just cannot wait 

To be here next year when you’re one hundred and eight

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