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.