It’s only my opinion

You’re an absolute delight my dear,
Is not something I might say,
You’re an absolute disaster,
Do you have to look that way.

Not one person will ever hear,
Me utter niceties,
If you are a bloody mess,
I’ll skip the pleasantries.

So when I see you out,
In your florescent orange suit,
Don’t be so surprised,
If I couldn’t give hoot.

Dressing for disaster,
In your fashionable attire,
Is not so very nice dear,
Nor a taste I should acquire.

The blossom yellow trousers,
That looked good on the page,
Should be left for those to wear,
Of a more appropriate age.

For fifty odd, you need,
To have a certain style,
Not try to be a teenager,
You know it’s been a while.

I shouldn’t be so judgemental,
It’s only my opinion,
But do you have to look the part,
Of a little yellow Minion.


There is a place out there, it’s empty, it has no name tag,
There is gap within the universe, waiting to be used.
It’s got a reason to be empty, it has a purpose to fulfil.
There is a place out there, it’s waiting just for me.
There is a niche where I belong, a place that I feel safe,
It’s a monumental moment, a trophy to be won,
A praise that I deserve, a recognition of my work,
There is a place out there, it’s empty, waiting to be filled,
It’s waiting patiently, waiting for me to be revealed.

You’re not the story you write

A story once told,
Is written in mind,
Whether it be frightening,
Or the hero be kind.

Your story is told,
To the World you live in,
It tells all your secrets,
And exposes your sin.

Just remember the truth,
It’s easy to say,
The sad story you tell,
Doesn’t have to end that way.

You are not the story,
That runs through your life,
You are not the problem,
The trouble or strife.

Just change your story,
Take a new road,
Be brave and rewrite it,
It’s your story be bold.

Bullying the child

The worst bully of them all,
As it is plain to see,
The one who hurts the most,
Turns out to be me.

I beat myself up daily,
I never miss a trick,
To make myself feel miserable,
I make myself feel sick,

I’m mad and inconsolable,
Insanely uncontrollable,
Talking to myself,
It really is unbearable.

I need to take some time,
To understand my situation,
To reconcile my broken halves,
And quell this inner friction.

I have to be more gentle,
I have to care for and be kind,
To bring about the harmony,
That is so hard to find.

No more bullying or misery,
I have to be more mild,
I have to love and hold her tight,
My inner loving child,

Wedding day

It was the day that was,
And what a day because,
It was a day when it begun,
A day my life was overrun.

It was a day it was,
Never to be repeated,
It was a day that’s ended,
It’s memory deep seated.

It started normally,
The day when it begun,
It started ordinarily,
With the rising of the Sun.

But not to be like other days,
It played with my emotions,
It made me think of my true love,
And of my life’s devotions.

I tried to look my best,
The day I’m talking ’bout,
It was a day it was,
Of that there is no doubt.

I doubted that my life,
Would ever be the same,
The day I said I do,
T’was the day I changed my name.

So to my wedding day,
I say you were the best,
You was the day that was,
Unlike all the rest.

a minutes quiet

When we want a bit of quiet,
It’s not that much to ask,
We have to go to some extremes,
To make the moment last.

We make sure kids are settled,
In front of the TV,
Or that we prepare early,
The supper or the tea,

We sneak a minute after shopping,
A snack and cup of coffee,
It doesn’t matter where we are,
For the time we lose, we worry.

Rushing through the day,
Nothing really getting done,
When I tidy up,
Am I the only one?

I’ve been to supermarkets,
Just to get away,
It really is quite peaceful,
At the end of a busy day.

I’ve been to rubbish tips,
A hundred miles North of here,
For a moments silence in the car,
And a chance to disappear.

In the swimming pool,
Practising my breaststroke,
In between the five-year olds,
The idiots and the old folk.

The solitude within my mind,
Is mine to have and hold,
It’s worth the splashing acrobats,
When the waters not that cold.

Just a minute of my time,
To sit inside my head,
I suppose it will have to wait today,
Until I go back to bed.

Then I’ll get a minute’s quiet,
Laying peaceful before,
My husband snuggles next to me,
And then begins to snore.


There’s energy in a room,
I don’t mean electricity,
The memories and the totems,
And all its eccentricity,

A room can hold such power,
It has the will to live,
It breathes, it sighs, it holds its own,
With the comfort that it gives.

It feels the heat of a summers day,
The cold of a chilling night,
It keeps the secrets that you tell,
And knows when things ain’t right.

A room can hold such power,
Good memories and sad,
It keeps you safe, or locks you in,
Can even drive you mad.

Look around you, what do you see?
Let your eyes be opened,
Take the time to observe,
What type of room you’ve chosen.