Lace Cap

June 6, 2016

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An inspiration from a tree of white flowers
Blossoming in the months May and June.
Shading me from the hot summer sun,
I sit listening to a bird whistling a tune.

This tree or bush many would argue
I call the Umbrella or Parasol tree,
With beams of sunlight shining through
onto your fine face smiling at me.

Sparkling ripples from the nearby brook
babble across the pebbles so fine,
with white petals falling like snow
on your fair skin with red lips like wine.

While I sit writing this poem so refined
inspired from this tree in my mind.

*****

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10th Anniversary

May 1, 2016

Me at Morgans 1

Ten years it has been since

I walked out through that door

When I decided it was time

to be an engineer no more.

Times had changed at my works

the spirit gone to consultants,

we were becoming motivated

by strategies from incumbents.

Using our old muscles and minds,

getting metal splinters cuts and grazes,

with oily rags, dirt and dust

getting work done like the blazes.

A rollicking from the foreman

if the job was incomplete,

Keep the production ticking over

after hours standing on concrete.

My job, being a physical one

bending metal on the fly press,

forging metal in the fire

my temper heated, I confess.

Then I would hear the lunch bell

only half the day it felt slow,

as my final day approached

 I just couldn’t wait to go.

 Yes! We would have some fun

with games of cards, darts, football,

plus the occasional social drink

 until we heard the gaffers’ call.

Out through the factory gates

I looked behind to reflect,

 those thirty years of graft

I leave with some respect.

Now the tenth anniversary

since that time in May,

when I collected my belongings

 with not so much to say.

That one final farewell visit

to that old nostalgic place,

I said cheerio for the last time,

with the widest smile on my face.

*****

The Life of William Shakespeare 1594 -1616

April 27, 2016

The greatest writer of his time

With comedy classics on the stage

to tragedy, history and poetry

Until we turn the final page.

 

We may say that all’s well that ends well

maybe the start of a comedy of errors

With Hamlet, Macbeth to Julius Caesar

to grace us all with many terrors

 

With passionate plays like Romeo and Juliet

The Tempest and The Taming of the Shrew

Poetic fantasies with The Sonnets to add

As if he didn’t have much else to do.

 

Many writers have come and gone

But William Shakespeare’s work will go on and on and on….

 

******

EARTH HOUR

April 21, 2016

EARTH HOUR

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This special time on the calendar,

a point to think during one hour

of this wonderful planet Earth,

reflecting man’s abusive devour,

 

of other species and environmental beauty

across the oceans to mountainous terrains,

with arctic circles, the fields and forest

with heat, ice and snow to when it rains.

 

An ever increasing population

living in great comfort and wealth,

or many live and die in destitute,

in conflict or very poor health.

 

But this is not about man,

it is about Mother Earth as we know,

as it spins during this hour

through space with a colourful glow.

 

A small moon compares to other planets,

containing so much conflict and strife,

this prominent blue, green and white,

world with colours mixed to give so much life.

 

I think to myself if someone asked me,

where or what this Earth is?

Would I believe it is the same place?

Is it Nature’s wonder or is it his?

 

Is this Heaven or Hell?

What are the ideal solutions?

to keep this wonderful planet

free from man’s toxic pollutions?

 

So I think what I should do,

not ought to, or think of doing next time.

We just have to stop killing the Earth.

If we don’t, that will be the ultimate crime.

*******

Appearance

April 20, 2016

 

I stand proud in my suit,

A Smart, professional appearance,

Not really what you expect.

 

When you suffer a different experience,

Things are not what they seem,

Even the person next to you,

You wonder if they are real.

 

Or if their stories are true,

This is a story of a journey,

A train ride on the underground,

Who is this man standing next to me.

 

Not knowing where the train is bound.

I ask him “Where are we going?

Is it travelling up to the light?”

 

I am taken by this apparition,

As this man disappears,

Into the darkness and out of sight.

******

A SAD REFLECTION

April 18, 2016

 

Sitting in a shelter,

Waiting for the next boat,

To find my old life,

To keep my hopes afloat.

 

Cold wind blowing across the lake

With only a hat, jacket and scarf,

To keep me warm from the wintry chill,

Now, I remember taking the wrong path.

 

Yes! I am in remission from my habit,

Being stoned every night with alcohol,

Followed by cocaine and pot to smoke,

falling into a six foot deep hole.

 

Many will reject me, please don’t,

Am I going home? Will they want me?

I look in the mirror because,

I want to break free.

 

I  wish I said no.

I am sorry,

I begin to shiver,

Sorry everybody, sorry… sorry…s

****

Looking Back

April 17, 2016

 

Diamond

 

This was one of my entries for the Bard of Worcester Poet Laureate Competition in 2012, where one of the subjects was about Diamonds.

I thought that I would use a different meaning, because I felt that others would use the ‘Gem’ or the ‘Queen’s Diamond Jubilee’ as their subjects; so me being different or awkward, used this piece.

I often go down to the bottom of my garden, mostly when there aren’t any neighbours around, using their mowers, hedge cutters or other power tools.

The babbling brook and the sound of running water is quite relaxing if I catch a right time, either later on a summer’s evening or first thing in the morning; the surroundings and wildlife inspire my writing of not only poetry, but also short stories.

 

 

 

                  

 

 

                 

 

                  Diamond

 

Glistening light reflecting from the sun 

With the ripples of a nearby stream,

I sit and wonder if they were the diamonds

Of Mother Nature, oh what a dream!

 

Pebbles and stones line the river bed

A trout struggling upstream, what a sight,

Its shinny scales shine like diamonds

In the sunbeams as it catches the light.

 

But this precious stone of Mother Nature

Lines a bed of a stream, for all to know,

As it shines and catches our eyes

The water ripples with a gentle flow.

 

I run my fingers through the stones

The cold water flows into my hands,

To find the diamond of Mother Nature

Is it a dream that no one understands?

 

                      ***********

A Mad Moment Of Poetry

April 15, 2016

Green Hair

It is late as I enter the lift to my apartment. I touch the button to the 30th floor.

Feeling a jerk, the lift begins to ascend, then I get this feeling of cold within me.

Sensing something is about to happen, I try to push the button when I notice I have reached the 35th floor. I press the 36th, but it still will not stop.

I look into the mirror to see my hair has turned green. I am getting bigger and like the Hulk, I have also turned green.

How obscene because my clothes have torn to shreds and fallen off! How embarrassing!

*****

My Best Friend

The Old farmer gazes across the fields toward the ocean, with wind blowing through his long and tangled, grey hair.

His sheep make their way, bleating on this wild, exposed farmland on the West Coast of Ireland.

His loyal dog ‘Paddy’ scurries around, shepherding the sheep up the slippery ramp into the cold sheep dip, struggling as the farmer’s gaze is elsewhere, unaware the sheep are in difficulty and fighting for their last breaths.

‘Paddy’ is barking awaiting in panic for a whistle of command. But there is no response as he whines. He approaches and rests his chin on his master’s frozen lap. The white’s of ‘Paddy’s’ eyes look up at master’s stillness, his spirit has gone.

*******

Appearance

I stand proud in my suit,

A Smart, professional appearance,

Not really what you expect.

 

When you suffer a different experience

Things are not what they seem

Even the person next to you

You wonder if they are real.

 

Or if their stories are true

This is a story of a journey

A train ride on the underground

Who is this man standing next to me.

Not knowing where the train is bound.

 

I ask him “Where are we going?

Is it travelling up to the light?”

I am taken by this apparition

As this man disappears

Into the darkness and out of sight.

******

Brief Appearances.

A friendly face,

Beautiful tranquil place,

Happy bubbly time,

Or deadly crime.

 

Do we perceive?

Or we deceive?

A new appearance,

A house clearance.

 

Maybe an apparition,

Or complete demolition,

Well it was there a minute ago,

Until along came the snow.

 

And buried it!

Ha!

*****

©Copyright Tim Stavert 14th April 2014

Sad Reflection

April 15, 2016

Sitting in a shelter

Waiting for the next boat

To find my old life

To keep my life afloat.

 

Cold wind blowing across the lake

With only a jacket, scarf and hat

To keep me warm from the wintry chill

I remember my life from being a prat.

 

Yes! I am in remission from my habit

stoned every night with alcohol

Followed by cocaine and pot to smoke

I feel myself entering a six foot deep hole.

 

Many will reject, please don’t,

Am I going home? Will they want me?

I look in the mirror because,  I want to break free.

I  wish I said no.

I am sorry

I begin to shiver

Sorry everybody, sorry…sorry…s

****

©Copyright Tim Stavert 14th April 2014

How many read this from the MWC

October 7, 2013

I am asking this, because I put a notice on the MWC facebook page and have since learned that not many are signed up to it.

This notice was to ask if anyone was interested in joining me on World Poetry Day at the Book Cooperative. So those who didn’t know about it, please accept my apologies as this was a last minute decision and not as part of the Writer’s Circle. However, If I organize anything again, I will know where to notify other members.

Kind regards

 

Tim