Enigma

Consider all of your playing cards

And bring that cake in from the rain,

For there is always so much to do

So that you don’t go insane.

If you’ve climbed all the mountains

But still not found your dreams,

It is looking more unlikely

That you are going where it seems

You desperately wanted to go,

And begged for in those prayers.

And this will no doubt upset you,

But no one really cares.

So walking out in the showers

And hiding from the sun,

May disguise all those tears

But not get too much done.

For Helen of Troy told lies

About something special tonight,

So the virgins trimmed their wicks

In the hope of some delight.

And as the rightful son of your father

Beware the ladies of the night parade,

Ensuring an eclipse of the sun’s light

That may encompass a whole decade.

With no more sunshine ever blazing

From where it will usually shine,

Thus I worry that all the troubles

Are now going to be mine.

Yes lord I am so very thirsty,

But there’s no water for you and I

That can ever quench our parched lips,

So best now that we die.

–

Well have you worked it out? NO the poem, NOT GDPR ?, but enough of that.

As I have not done a "usual" Blog for a while I will make this fairly succinct and catch up a bit later. Is that ok please?

News then, and I’ve been in France the last 12 days, so not as "externally active" as in U K, stalls, meetings, gigs etc I mean!

I have though been prolifically writing as usual, published my "monthly" article on The Sussex Newspaper online &  Bonjour Limosuin entitled "Loud" so look it up for a smile?

When I return home in a week or so I have already a busy schedule with three radio station interviews, two now as "Regular Guest", LOL somebody likes me, a School Fete stall, a couple of networking meetings and a "personal meeting" with a new lady who wants to possibly share our stuff with bit of work together? The Psychy Poet goes where others fear to go, or something like that but she looks very nice!?

Second of 3 poems, and like all three I’m putting up, are from my 5th and latest, (last August), book, called simply "Will". You can hear me read first part on the video on my website…

Will

Well weeks will come and weeks will go

And months soon follow in life’s flow.

But days we enjoy will pass by quick,

Whilst tougher times go slow.

So then we must remain steadfast

With our resolve strong and unbowed,

As all of us will have our turn

To be under a sad, tragic cloud.

For nothing in this world is given

To remain the same, or even arrive.

So grab those moments of delight

And just celebrate you’re alive!

There will of course be time for sorrow

With that very time going slow,

So try to cry behind your mask

Because others may not know.

Well at least that’s what I try to do

Not that I think men shouldn’t cry.

But I shed my tears in private

So the world doesn’t puzzle why

This chap with a constant smile

And a jokes all-day token,

May continue to laugh and grin,

When inside his heart is broken.

So back we will go to the weeks

Which pass according to our fate,

But whether going quick or slow

We should try for heaven’s gate.

–

Photos included then:- 1) Me at my French place and significantly "still standing", 2) At a stall prior to coming away, 3) Our "Favourite" Bears Ted n Beth, 4) Me beside my banner.

For those seeking more of my poems I am featured in the excellent Mantel Farm’s ?? magazine with my poem "Effortless" about lazy people, so don’t you be too lol (busy?) or idle to look it up. Read about the "birds and bee’s" in there too! Lots of activity "daaaarn oot farm" ?

Last of poems before close, and those of you who know me well will really get this choice of poem called "The Messenger"… Please enjoy!

The Messenger

The messenger calls as usual

And you take it as always read,

But you may get a shock

When worrying that he’s dead.

For he hasn’t called, or spoke

So you wonder what is wrong?

But maybe nothing is for him,

When he sings another’s song,

Just how they like to hear him

As for her he speaks so well.

So you’ve faded in his memory,

Though not that you can tell.

As like thunder, the silence roars

Reverberating about your ears,

That once rejoiced to hear him

But now noise is replaced by tears

Of an acid recrimination,

That you didn’t cherish it all.

And thus you have lost it now

Even if begging him to call!

So your messenger has vanished

And seems won’t be coming back,

To pick up all the pieces

That crumble as you crack.

For no messages are forthcoming,

As the delivery man has gone.

Leaving you with a hard lesson,

About the man who shone

That bright light in your life,

And always made you smile.

But when felt you gave nothing

He knew you weren’t his style.

–