Claim back

Claim the life,
You think you’re owed,
The images,
The living code.

Claim back the sunset,
Not the science,
The astrophysicists,
Can just be silent.

Claim back the magic,
That makes you whole,
Imagine all,
Your forever goal.

Take time to watch,
The Sun go down,
You don’t have to try,
To understand.

It’s not about,
How things behave,
It’s about the time,
The love you gave.

Claim back the life,
You know that’s there,
Take your time,
To stop and care.

It doesn’t have to,
Be explained,
Watch the Sunrise,
The day reclaimed.

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Travelling back in time

My first poem

deesdailyjournal

Watching Miss Marple Mysteries
I was suddenly aware,
Of all the different clothing
And different tableware.

We no longer get the doilies out,
The best bone China cup,
Today you get a mug of tea,
Or a can of seven up.

The ladies with their pearls,
Their elegant little shoes.
The gentlemen with suits and ties,
Raised their hat and said “how do”.

Today the boys go scruffy,
The hoodie uniform,
The girls wear too much make-up
And swear up quite a storm.

I don’t discount myself in this
The progress we have made,
With mobile phones and frozen meals,
The table never laid.

Just say we could go traveling,
Just go back in time.
To prim and proper hairdos,
To hanging washing on the line.

No more tumble driers,
No more microwaves,
No more mobile telephones,
Nor impromptu midnight raves.

Taking tea out in the garden
At four each…

View original post 35 more words

Connected

I’m connected,
Every single day,
I’m connected in,
Every possible way.

My iPhone is a God send,
It’s connect to my iPad,
It links with my computer,
The best I’ve ever had.

Now I use to have an Android,
A cute and wonderous toy,
It did almost everything,
It brought me lots of Joy.

It gave me all my music,
Texts and Facebook to,
It even gave me mail sometimes,
And I could ring a friend or two.

It took a lot of juggling,
To hook up to my PC,
And the tablet was a loner,
For it was made by Sony.

But now I am connected,
In every single way.
How would I live my life without,
Being connected to my day.

My calendar, my newsfeed,
My schedule and my mates,
Can be there wherever I am,
I am connected with special rates.

But what if Wi-Fi failed me,
Destroyed was my 4G,
Disconnected all at once,
Then where would I be.

Out without a clue,
No schedule to get me by,
No Facebook and no email,
I know I’d have to cry.

I’m connected to Technology
I’m hooked on and I hooked in,
Without it how would I survive,
Where would my life begin.

Never a victim

Step back,
Take a look
Detach,
Move away.
Don’t be,
Distracted,
By what,
They say.
Move on,
Stand apart,
Don’t lose,
Your mind.
Take heart,
Hold on,
Don’t be,
Unkind.
Let the,
Thoughts,
Run freely,
Past,
The anguish,
The pain,
Can never,
Last.
For now,
It hurts,
You feel,
The pain.
But for you,
This moment,
Will never,
Come again.
Step back,
Take a look,
Detach,
Move away.
You can,
Make it,
If you do,
Not stay.

 

Would I turn back time?

50 something,
Feels no worse,
Than being 18,
Oh what a curse.

The awkward moments,
Trying to comply,
Yes it wasn’t me,
Now would I lie?

I was the one,
That drunk under the table,
Way back then,
For I was able.

I did some whacky,
Weird stupid things,
If I was 18,
Would I do them again?

Of course I would,
For they were fun,
From 15’s rebellion,
Where it all begun.

Now 50ish,
Is fun you see,
I can be myself,
I can be me.

No more rules,
But those I make my own,
I can be what I wish,
In my own home.

Would I want,
To turn back time?
Be young again,
It would be a crime.

To lose those memories,
The friends I’ve made,
The triumphs,
Melting into shade.

50 something,
I must admit,
Feels ok,
For this old got.

The Art of making Toast

Just thought I’d share this.

Jenny Haynes

Toast, how can anyone not make toast? I struggle a bit with the fancy stuff that goes on top, like spreading the butter, and even cooking eggs. I can turn an egg into a soufflé, I can make a brilliant cake, even knock you dead with a frittata, I don’t mean literally, I wouldn’t poison anyone, not unintentionally, but frying the buggers has never been my greatest achievement. But toast is easy, right, you stick in toaster, push down button and wait for the pop. Admittedly there are different types of toaster, there are those that don’t quite do the even browning. So, you compensate, taking the bread out and turning it around. You’ve got a dial on the side, or the front, and some even have a dial or buttons on the top. Choose your setting.

Here’s a short funny story for you. About a year ago, a friend…

View original post 1,113 more words

Spring Cleaning

Where to begin,
I haven’t got a clue,
So much to finish,
So much to do.

The boiler burst,
I have to clear,
I’ve been putting it off,
For nearly a year.

I have the jeans,
Washed in the machine,
I will hang them out,
I think they’re clean.

The fugus sprouting,
In the kitchen,
I’m kidding,
But it could do with a clean.

Mesmerised,
With irksome stuff,
The house is beginning,
To look so rough.

The Sun is shining,
Oh curse the Spring,
It brings about,
This awful thing.

You see within,
It’s rays of light,
The things that are hidden,
Away at night.

The settled dust,
Discarded trash,
The dog hairs, wrappers,
From last night’s bash.

Spring Cleaning happens,
But once a year,
Let’s get started,
The time is here.

Granny apron,
Rubber gloves,
Fluffy duster,
To reach above.

I’ll start in that corner,
Or in that room,
I’ll need a hoover,
And the broom.

Where to begin,
I have an idea,
Now to get going,
Get into gear.