The Forum's Favourite Poems

"The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.

And that inverted Bowl we call The Sky,
Whereunder crawling coop't we live and die,
Lift not thy hands to it for help -- for It
Rolls impotently on as Thou or I.”

The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyam

 

LAZY WIND by John Kett

I'm the on'y one on Cromer pier this February day,
An' what they call a lazy wind is whippin' up the spray;
That lazy wind, that crazy wind,
From icy seas come tew yer,
Tha's jus' tew lazy t'go round, an' so that go clean trew yer!

There's waves a-roarin' up the beach, wi'foam a-flyin' high,
An wicket sheets o' bitin' sleet come swirlin' orf the sky.
Ah, yew may try t'hide away,
That wind'll still git near yer,
An' when that dew, that go right trew - ah, tha's enough t'fleer yer!

The sea come crashin' on the stones, there's snow there on the sand;
The wind get wuss; tha's now a gaale, an' I can hardly stand-
That bitin' wind, that fightin' wind,
Thas healthy, so they say, bor;

There in't no germs on Cromer pier, tha's blew 'em all away, bor!

Just for those looking to holiday in Norfolk

 

Right don't know if this is a poem, but it's just made me blubb a bit.

When you first have children they talk about the challenges of parenting....the struggles of a baby waking in the night,
the toddler who won’t stay in their bed, the cost of childcare, injuries from sports...

Having to take off work to pick them up from school when they don’t feel well, helping them with homework, a messy house, the never ending laundry, the cost to buy school clothes, packing their lunches....

You watch their eyes light up on Christmas morning....and try to soak in the magic of those moments.

You coach them in sports, rushing to practices and ballgames...and tote them all over the country to let them play the game they love...no matter how exhausting or expensive it becomes.

Life is just so busy that you rarely even stop to think what the end of those days look like.

In fact, it’s not really even something you can wrap your mind around.

You go into it thinking that 18-20 years sounds like a long time....

Then suddenly hours turn into days...days into months...and months into years.

That little person that used to crawl up next to you in bed and cuddle up to watch cartoons...suddenly becomes this young adult who hugs you in the hallway as they come and go.

And the chaos and laughter that used to echo throughout your home....gets filled with silence and solitude.

You’ve learned how to parent a child who needs you to care for and protect them....but have no clue how the whole “letting go” thing is supposed to work.

So you hold on as tight as you can...wondering how time passed so quickly...feeling guilty that you missed something....

Because even though you had 20 years.....it just somehow doesn’t seem like it was enough.

You ask yourself so many questions...

Did you teach them the right lessons?
Did you read them enough books as a child?
Spend enough time playing with them?
How many school parties did you have to miss?
Do they really know how much you love them?
What could I have done better as a parent?

.....When it’s time for them to go, it all hits you like a ton of bricks.

And all you can do is pray....hope....and trust that God will protect them as they start to make their way into the world alone.

Parenting is by far the most amazing experience of your life....that at times leaves you exhilarated....while others leave you heartbroken.

But one thing is certain.....it’s never enough time...

So for all the parents with young children...who’s days are spent trying to figure out how to make it through the madness...
Exhausted day in and day out...

Soak. It. All. In.

Because one day....all those crazy days full of cartoons, snuggles, sleep overs, Christmas morning magic, ballgames, practices and late night dinners...

All come to an end.

And you’re left hoping that you did enough right, so that when they spread their wings....

They’ll fly...

AUTHOR UNKNOWN

 

Stafford STAG
Stafford NF?
Yall

 

Judy Rose - A Womans World Observed.

I've made peace with my 'wobbly bits',
They rarely give me grief.
I only wish they'd just keep still,
Each time I brush my teeth!

 

Liz Poynton

If Christmas is hard,
If you’ve lost someone dear.
Just look in your heart,
And you’ll know they’re still here.
The star in the sky,
The light falling snow.
The robin outside,
It seems like they know.
If this is a time,
When you’re struggling through.
Just do what you can,
For what matters, is you.
There’s no need to be merry,
There’s no need to bright.
Just do what you can,
It will all be alright.

 

There’s a woman in my mirror

There’s a woman in my mirror
And she looks a lot like me,
Though there’s lines around her eyes,
And her hair is wild and free.

She is plumper than myself,
And she is definitely grey.
Did I miss the day this happened
Has she always been this way?

And this woman in the mirror
Has an air of something calm,
Like a tide that’s going out,
And a beach that’s soft and warm.

She has seen the world in colour,
She has learned to know the truth.
There’s a wisdom in her wrinkles,
There’s a knowledge brought from youth.

And she seems to move more freely,
As though released from earthly binds.
Is she made of something lighter?
Perhaps the weight she left behind.

Like the press of expectation,
And the need to yield and bend.
I like this woman in the mirror,
She’s fast becoming my best friend.

Donna Ashworth

 

Five fat sausages sizzling in a pan

One went pop

And the others went bang

 

The Second Coming

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

W B YEATS

w.1919
p. 1920

 

The best lack all conviction.

The worst are full of passionate intensity.

 

And what rough beast slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

We'd be remiss to think that Trump is the end of it.