Mothers Monday Morning

Angry is the order of the day,
It’s ok I now I won’t always be this way.

The car won’t go,
There’s a light that glows,
Though I haven’t got a clue!

I’ve banged me head,
Wanna go back to bed,
And I’ve sat on granddads glue.

The kids are running around my feet,
It’s time itself I’ve got to beat.

At work it is doddle,
No more kids to coddle,
No awkward dogs to walk.

People have interests
In life outside the home,
And even want to talk.

I’m angry and wound up today,
I know I won’t always be this way.


Rewritten and relieved.

Just had the worse nightmare. I’m not a great poet, but I’m successful. I measure my success by my expectations. All I ever expected was a chance to write and for my words to be read. I never worried about by whom, or by how many. I write poetry because its fun and expressive. Today I hit the wrong button and deleted my work. It is only now that I realise just how important my success is to me. Measured by my own standards, I’m doing OKAY.

My life, my love, my curse.

It came upon me,
In deep meditation,
My mind should have been a blank,
Devoid of contemplation.

It came to me upon a whim,
Wafting through my brain,
I have to write it down,
Before I lose it again.

A sunrise on the ocean,
A boat floating at sea,
I have to paint the picture,
As soon as soon can be.

Orange, grey and black, I’ll need,
Some purple, just a hint,
A touch of imagination,
Some white to add a tint.

It came upon me,
From the depths of meditation,
I have to paint this picture,
It will take some concentration.

I’ll sketch it in a moment,
When I’ve finish with this verse,
For to paint is my vocation,
My life, my love, my curse.

Self worth

Putting on the Lippy,
Pinning up my hair,
Preparing for the day ahead,
Deciding what to wear.

As Trinny and Susannah,
Take a look inside,
My wardrobe is a shambles,
With the fat clothes that I hide.

Choosing shoes is easy,
I’m not going out today,
Slipping on my slippers,
Comfort all the way.

Ready to do battle,
I check the mirror wise,
I have to take a second look,
Have I really got that wide.

Putting on the Lippy,
Wearing earrings I adore,
Looking liking a Diva,
A picture of “her indoors.”

I’m looking rather swish,
If I say so myself,
Done up to clean the oven,
And wipe down the cupboard shelf.

Putting on the Lippy,
I wonder, “why on earth?”
As it suddenly occurs to me,
It’s about my own self worth.

Obscure Fame

“Time after time,”
Cindy sings her song,
She sings it really well,
I try to sing along.

Belting out the reverb,
On an old rock melody,
I image that I’m Bonnie,
“Baby set me free”.

The chorus is a doddle,
I’ve crooned the “Crazy words”.
But in the middle is it really,
“Love my chicken,” that I heard.

“Come on baby, Light my fire.”
I bask in obscure fame,
As I dance around the living room,
Here comes the chorus once again.

“Come on baby, Light my fire.”
I wriggle provocatively,
I’m hoping the nutty neighbour,
Isn’t watching me.

Who cares, I’m having fun,
Here comes the track that rocks,
I’m dancing in my underwear,
And my funky fluffy socks.


Too busy to be writing,
Too much to get done,
Too busy for procrastination,
The day has just be begun.

Too busy to be miserable,
Too be lonely and be sad,
For whilst I wallowed in my pity,
I forgot just what I had.

For care I do, about myself,
And fight for life itself,
I’ll not be left in purgatory,
Nor left upon a shelf.

Too busy to finish this poem,
Far too much to do,
Onward with the life I have,
Into this day anew.


Lost within a thought,
I sit and stare into space,
I really don’t want to be,
A part of the human race.

There’s too much going on,
Inside this world of mine,
No need to hurry up,
No being there on time.

Out into reality,
I’ll bring my world with me,
I’ll brave a smile and carry on,
As happy as can be.

Behind the happy grin,
I’m always just beyond,
Living in my world,
Catch me when I’m gone.

So if you see me staring,
Daydreaming my life away,
Remember that I’m happy,
And I want to stay that way.