Oh my goodness Young Robert.
You are an inspiration.
What can I say.
I have always been in awe of your verse.
So talented. X
You may inspire me to start painting again.
Bless you for that. X
SP, no, YOU are an inspiration.
Iâm a bad influence.
Actually joking apart my lovely.
It is nice to have you being creative once more.
Thank you Robert, I feel honoured :hug:
Something darker
Rainbow?
BLUE
Oh why so very sad and blue
Lost, forlorn and anxious too
When joy has gone and life is rough
Hope alone is not enough
Donât ask for signs or dreams or visions
They canât be seen and wonât be given.
In your present place, trailing along
Somethingâs missing, somethingâs wrong
INDIGO
A mood forlorn
Has something gone
I stand amazed
Landscape razed
VIOLET
Violet, my motherâs middle name
Add the letter ânâ and she became
Violent every now and then
Let fly, calm down, then rage again
She really was a caring mother
I canât compare, I had no other
She tried to do the best she could
In quiet moments I understood
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Very reflective words, Robert 
Speaking of mothers!
Last Song for Lilian.
The etiquette of mourning blinds the house,
Half darkened silence whispers on the stairs;
For she, who once called each and every tune
Was caught by Death alone and unaware.
I never thought that even Death would dare.
Iâll grieve for you without fine manners now,
Proud, sharp tongued, talented and grey.
Who threw her youth into the fires of rage?
Who tossed her grace and happiness away?
Who blighted hearts in blossom- tore the flower?
With all the frost of eloquence and power.
Iâll give your spirit an unearned release,
A ranting, roaring, glory of a grief,
Iâll give you peace, my love, Iâll give you peace.
(With apologies to Carroll)
'Twas midday and the monthly meet
Did drone and mumble in the room.
All speaky were the minion-men
Uriah Heepish in the gloom.
âBeware the jargon talk, my son!
The mimsy phrases meaning naught!
Across the piece and verticals,
And shunning simple English taught!â
He took his slides and stood up tall,
Long time the borrowed weasel word
So plagiarised from Brainyland
Were gathered thickly and inferred.
And, as the corporate not-really-words
Came a-waffling from his lungs,
Plain Speaking policeforce bursted in,
Arresting all who spoke in tongues.
'Twas midday, and the monthly meet
All suddenly became bright clear -
With simple phrases, quick, concise -
Some saner world? Long time, I fear.
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CAREFUL CHAT.COM
If youâre ever in a forum
Full of people, all with views
And youâre asked to form a quorum
Or sit mutelyâ would you choose?
Are you loath to raise a topic
That you may consider rude?
Would it make you misanthropic,
Ill advised, or merely lewd?
Do you itch to know an answer
That some others dare not mention?
Can you bring up things like cancer
Without it causing tension?
Do we outgrow inhibitions
As we outgrow worn out clothes?
Or stick to old traditions
Play it safe â tread on no toes?
If youâre ever in a forum
Full of people, all with views
My advice is, show decorum â
Or face pages of abuse!
Ooh, a painful and heartfelt poem echoed by many a bitter child or spouse - well done.
Some gems of observation woven in these verses
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âThe More Loving Oneâ by W.H. Auden
Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.
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Iâl try and stop by in 4 yrs time
when you and \i may be more supine
then we can gaze upon the stars
and share our last bar of mars?
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Beach Galore
as I lay upon the beach
just finishing light lunch
she lay herself atop of me
enveloping my lumps!
I lay motionless not daring
to breath in or to breath out
and she nuzzled nose into my ear
and all I heard was muffled pout?
Well not wanting to be misunderstood
I didnât breathe a word but
Thought some heavy breathing might
calm the beast that stirred
be still my love be still my love
I heard her distinctly say
let ME do the heavy work
I just want you to quietly lay
I had never been so challenged
in this supine form before
it was then i heard some footsteps
walk distinctly just offshore
Are they the âcuffs I requested
I distinctly heard her giggle
Yes Maâm size six for wrists
And size 10 for ankles with no wiggle!
well you can see my small dilemma
as clear as she lay adorned
what shall I do ; I have no clue
play along or flee the storm?
© gumbud 2022
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WOW dID you just compose that
Its splashing on the window, its splashing on the door;
Water water everywhere and puddles on the floorâŠ
So Iâve just come back from biking, 15 miles in the rainâŠ
I should have had an extra hour in bed, but Iâve only got half a brainâŠ
And Iâll get up in the morning and do it all againâŠ
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Did you write that Foxy?
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Yep Sweetie, a Foxy originalâŠGood to see you by the wayâŠx
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Sweet Sixteen
He met her when she was sweet; only sixteen
well they must have rubbed shoulders on days in between?
But the arrangements were formal; that is what I mean
Canât remember those early hurried practised wild scenes
If he could have predicted, foretold her sad end
would he have made changes ; efforts to mend?
or would they have drifted apart as time kills
still gone separate ways climbing other souls hills?
There were moments in there where they could have broke through?
but the dice had been thrown and therein lays the clue
She was the risk taker perhaps in it for fun?
Whilst he was confused and hormonally glum?
Canât recall how it finished?
Time can play silly tricks
They met once more briefly
But sliding doors had got fixed!
He got one final glance before decades came all?
A newspaper cutting thrown down to enthral?
Sheâd aged half a decade but smiled back dressed in white
A title of âRose Queenâ bestowed over night?
Fast forward three scores years or more?
And the new age like âpotionsâ opened many new doors
she had lain there at peace for two decades or so?
and now her story unfolded he wished heâd not known?
© gumbud 2022
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âUncle Billâ as my colleagues and I called him was a Pennsylvania farm boy who grew up to be a superb engineer and a great friend of mine. Sadly, I lost him to bone cancer a while ago.
He gave me this figurine of a Pennsylvanian miner made from coal a while back, and as I came through the back door yesterday the sun was shining off the crystal in the minerâs helmet, and it reminded me of a school outing to a coal mine near where I used to live in Yorkshire.
The Minerâs Lamp
Down and down the cage did go,
The Minerâs lamp set dim,
Heading deep below this world,
Noone aboard but him.
The cables sang as air rushed by,
Sounds echoing off the sides,
Ears popping, cage dropping,
Down on well-greased guides.
Pit bottom lights bright as day,
Noise and dust around,
Stepping out to start his shift,
Half a mile underground.
A dozen teenage school-lads,
Were in his charge today,
Nervous laughter, much bravado,
Riding the underground tramway.
On towards the coalface,
âSet your lamps to brightâ,
âCheck your life preservers,â
âEscape tunnel to your right.â
Coal ripped by huge machine,
Pit props hammered in,
Roof bolting, bones jolting,
Conveyers adding to the din.
Pit Pony stables now stand empty,
âWidow-makersâ rusting in the stalls,
Pneumatic drills loosed flesh from menâs bones,
Where deafening sounds bounced from walls.
A river of coal rushing by,
âKeep your elbows in,â
Light reflecting dully,
From a minerâs lunch snap-tin.
âLamps off and turn towards the breeze,â
The miner he did say,
To escape from here without light,
Face the wind and feel your way.
Up and up the cage did go,
The Minerâs lamp set dim,
Heading from below this world,
Twelve schoolboys make the ride with him.
3 Likes