?

I,
We,
I want,
Can I,
All of these things I think of,
You,
Us,
Could you do,
These are the things I ask.
When,
What,
Wherefore,
Who?
I never know the why for.
How,
Do,
You do,
That,
I wonder for evermore.

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The pathway

Through life’s paths,
We wonder aimlessly,
We touch the lives of others,
Some we never see.

There are moments that are fleeting,
And lifetimes that we share,
There are those that we give service to,
And times we really care.

The paths that cross at random,
Or maybe we set our minds,
On being at a place,
For a person we want to find.

A careless word,
A kind repose,
Will determine which way,
The pathway goes.

Whether to be a friend along the road,
Or just another traveller,
Through life’s paths we walk,
Passing others as we wander.

 

Shakespearean shopping

For what we are about to receive,
May the buyer know its function,
For whether it is nobler to buy on line,
Or whether to buy it up the junction.

Alas poor consumer,
I knew you well,
You were the one,
That once befell.

The discounts and special offers,
The spending was overwhelming,
For you could never stop,
It was forever never ending.

So now in the wardrobe,
There is no room,
For the lion, nor the witch,
Nor even a lowly broom.

The boxing gloves and hobby crafts,
The books and DVD’s,
A collection of wayward wires,
Of old videos and TV’s.

The latest techno,
An odd book or two,
The cookery book,
By Michel Roux.

Oh, woe is me.
T’have seen the offers,
The fairy cakes,
That dwindle my well earnt coffers.

For what we are about to distribute,
To charity shops around the town,
Don’t look when leaving those things behind,
For more treasure that might be found.

Blanket of Burden

The heavy blanket of burden,
Creeps slowly over me.
I’m so overwhelmed,
Of the tasks that bother me.

Oh sod it, do I care,
About the idle stress,
I really can’t be asked,
I couldn’t care any less.

I’m a feature of the Universe,
A free and simple being,
I’m a single soul with attitude,
I know just where I’m going.

The moments in our time,
Are individual and so rare,
Each minute of the day,
Are ones I cannot spare.

To worry nor to moan,
About what needs to be done.
I’ll take each moment as it comes,
And cherish every one.

My blanket of my burdens,
Can lay down by my side,
I’ll only lay it down with me,
At a time when I decide.

Take that minute in your day,
Multiple it by the breathes you take,
Don’t let the overwhelming tasks,
A prisoner of burdens make

Monday morning whinge

I’m sitting on a pile,
Of unwanted dirty washing,
Of knickers and grubby socks,
I know it is quite shocking.

There are windows,
To be cleaned,
And glasses that have lost,
Their errant gleam.

Carpets beg for Hoover’s,
Floors that miss the mop,
Curtains that are waiting for,
A soaping that have lost the plot.

I want to be the apprentice,
Of the Wizard, you know the one,
He makes the washing up,
Look like so much fun.

The housework fairy quit,
Sometime long ago,
She said it was an awful mess,
And she’d lost her magic glow.

So here I am on Monday,
With the horror house from hell,
Ready to get stuck in,
You really cannot tell!

I have a week of housework,
So where do I begin,
It really doesn’t matter,
For next Monday I’ll start all over again

No words

No words,
Not now,
A moment to reflect,
A moment to take time,
For time is mine,
It belongs to me,
Time is what I make of it,
Time is mine to bend and weave,
No words,
Just silence,
Thought provoking emptiness,
Is what I really need.

Arther Ritis

Oh I’m such a wicked woman,
I’ve had cake and chocolate to,
I’ve eaten lots of goodies,
And I know the scales read true.

The extra pound’s the biscuits,
I sneaked in after tea last night,
I’m going to have to curb my nibbles,
And the munchies I will fight.

It’s not a perfect figure,
I crave to strut around in,
It’s me knees and cranky back,
They hurt when they begin.

The loss of a few, ok a lot,
Of kilograms, in English that’s a pound,
Would make me feel much better,
And help me get around.

This time of year you see,
If Arther comes to play,
The aches and pains of Ritis,
Will never go away.

Its my fault, I’m old and wicked,
I want my cake and eat it,
But if I don’t give up the snacks,
I know I’ll never beat it.