The End of the Year

The end of the year has now finally come;
Should one be happy or should one be glum?
Have you achieved all the dreams that you had
At the start of the year, and so should be glad?
Or has the year passed with so much still undone,
So little success and so few victories won?
Or maybe the truth is a mixture of both,
With various states of stagnation and growth.
You may have had visions you'd reach for the sky,
With targets for some things being set far too high,
Not thinking that during the year you would need,
Very exceptional luck to succeed.
Or maybe sometimes you did not persevere
Even though victory was coming quite near.
But a new year is dawning, and you have a chance
To set some new goals, so your life will advance,
But things in your heart that you truly believe
With focus and work you can hope to achieve.
And then this time next year, perhaps you will find
You've passed all the targets that you have defined.

Unnecessary Wars

The world is awash with a series of wars,
Many occurring without a just cause;
Some people decide that they want to seize power,
Which they know that their government will not allow.
They've got some ideas that they want to promote,
But they're also aware that they'd lose any vote.
So they start a rebellion, and it's not long before
The country's involved in a grim civil war.
Or countries start arguing over some land,
Intemperate words mean the flames are soon fanned
Both sides of the border, and things become hot,
And someone is foolish and fires the first shot;
And so a war starts, when the two might have found,
A peaceful solution for that bit of ground.
Or problems arise in connection with trade,
With a great many loud accusations being made,
Till one party acting most likely on pride
Without too much thought on things comes to decide
That they will lose face if they try to make peace,
And people's respect for them afterwards will cease.
And so they attack when a few minutes' pause
Would show that this was the most foolish of wars.
And they could have sat at a table and talked
If hotheads from both hadn't constantly baulked
At finding a peaceful solution to end
Their problems and thus change from foe into friend.
Then there are wars that result from man's greed,
When people and countries want more than they need,
Invading their neighbours, to take what is theirs,
Secure in the knowledge that nobody cares
To take on the powerful, who thus get away
With actions that vary from black through to grey.
So many wars today would not take place
If only throughout all the world 'twas the case
That people sat down and discussed it all first;
With far fewer wars would the earth then be cursed

What Shall I Do with My Hair

My hair is simply in a mess; I don't know what to do;
I know I ought to give some thought to trying something new;
For I'm really not too happy with my hairdo as it stands.
As currently it hangs straight down in shortish mousy strands,
Perhaps it should be shorter, though I'm not sure that would solve,
The problem of its mousiness which likely would involve,
Bleaching it or colouring, and I'm really not that keen,
On anything as drastic, though I'd like a nicer sheen.
Perhaps a perm would do the trick, but I know well from the past,
Perms on me look nice when  done, but hardly ever last.
Oh dear, I think I just will have to keep the style I've got,
Until I make my mind up if I want to change or not.

Houses Built on Flood Plains

Houses built on flood plains, small or large and posh,
Will always be in danger of one day being awash
With water from the river, which is mostly just a stream,
The sort of little trickle, that so many would not dream
Can become a raging torrent if there is sufficient rain,
Before reverting back to just a little brook again.
But while it is a torrent it can flood the land around,
Spreading water rapidly across low-lying ground,
Enveloping the houses there that lie within its path,
Leaving devastation as the dreadful aftermath.
Things may be fine for many years, a century or more,
It could be that the river's never flooded there before,
But there is always just a chance that heavy rain will fall,
The river will o'erflow its banks and then begin to sprawl
Over all the land which lies spread out on either side,
Moving very quickly like a fast incoming tide.
Flood plains can be pretty, and some water's always nice,
But building there can sometimes come with quite a hefty price

No Snow for Christmas

Yet again there was no snow for Christmas,
On the ground not a smidgeon of white,
The leaves on the trees were unladen
So again weren't a Christmassy sight.
Instead just the current mild weather,
With maybe a few drops of rain;
Let's hope that perhaps there'll be next year
A snowy white Christmas again.

The Coming of the Three Wise Men

Three wise men set off, starting out from afar,
They crossed over deserts, lead by a star;
They made their way swiftly, for they hoped to find
The longed-for Messiah, who'd lead all mankind.
They sought for a king, who'd be strong and would reign,
Over all people, on mountain or plain.
The result of their quest must have seen seemed to them stranger
For they found not a king but a babe in a manger.
But they gave him their gifts they'd decided to bring,
Though they were originally brought for a king.
Gold formed a part, there was frankincense too,
Together with myrrh, and then they withdrew,
And warned in a dream departed in haste,
Before their location by Herod was traced.

Inspiration Gene

I need an inspiration gene,
For though I might be really keen
To be creative, there are times
I cannot think of any rhymes,
And need some help to start to write,
And am conscious that my plight,,
Would much be helped if only I
Possessed a gene, so I need not try
To think of things, but could just sit,
And wait till they came to be bit by bit.

The Farmer

Out in all weathers - he can't stay indoors;
Whether it's sunny or whether it pours
He has to be out and about at his work;
Bad weather is never a reason to shirk.
Cows must be milked and in some seasons fed
At an hour when most people have not left their bed.
Crops must be planted, and harvested too,
As each year the seasons all come round anew/
He has to mend fences, help animals calve,
Though there may be some times when the workload may halve,
There's always a great deal which needs to be done,
And no modern farmer can sit back and shun
The myriad of jobs, unexpected or planned
That all must be done if one works on the land.

The Back Streets on Boxing Day

The streets are empty of traffic; free parking spaces abound,
For on the day after Christmas there is hardly a soul around.
Most people seem to have vanished, to stay with family or friends,
Perhaps somewhere in the country, till the holiday period ends.
For there are few lights in the windows, except for the Christmas trees,
And maybe some bulbs on the fencing, which merrily sway in the breeze.
The houses are largely in darkness, no sign of life can be seen;
And black in the living-room corner's the ubiquitous t.v. screen.
Everything's quiet and peaceful; there's hardly a sound to be heard,
With less human talk on the pavements than the infrequent song of a bird.
The big shops may be busy, and the high street a bustling throng,
But here in the back streets it's empty, through it won't be like this for long.
For the holiday soon will be finished, which will be the signal for when
The people who live in the houses will all be returning again.

Life Would be Better

Life would be better if there could be peace,
If all the world's troubles could instantly cease,
With everyone working, ensuring the earth
Kept to the concept enshrined in the birth
Of a world without conflict, where love was the way
To see that all strife was kept firmly at bay.

Midnight Mass

A church awash with many candles, sending darkness on its way
With their flames so gently glowing, it appears they wish to say:
"Here is light, you need no other; listen to the message brought
To the people then in darkness, which today is still being taught."
All the old familiar carols, as the church begins to fill,
Words that first were learned in childhood and are all remembered still.
And the atmosphere's augmented, as so many people find
Just how many happy memories once again are brought to mind.
There are constant new arrivals, filling seating to the brim
By the time that Mass commences with the rousing opening hymn.
No matter if outside it's pouring, or the snow lies on the ground,
In the church it's warm and cosy, heightened by the joyous sound
As the people join the worship, which expresses once again
A welcome to that tiny baby who came down to earth to reign.
There's a feeling of excitement, growing as the Mass proceeds,
And the world with all its troubles from the people's minds recedes.
This is real, for God is present in his people gathered here
Who contribute by their presence to the holy atmosphere.
At the end, the small bambino is within the manger laid,
Showing in a graphic fashion what the Gospels have portrayed.
Mary looks in adoration at her first-born lying there.
On the other side is Joseph in an attitude of prayer.
The final hymn ends with a greeting sung to Jesus Christ Our Lord.
Who is worthy of all worship and now especially adored.
The Mass is ended; "Merry Christmas" indicates it's Christmas Day,
As the people greet each other and all homeward make their way

Looking Back on 2015 Resolutions

The year's almost over and have I achieved
All the items last January I then believed
Were certainly possible, given I tried,
With most of them things I could take in my stride?

I get out the list and I start working through,
And find I can easily cross out a few;
With others there's difficulty, for there's some doubt,
If I've done quite enough that they should be crossed out.

But it's also quite obvious a check has unveiled
That time after time I have definitely failed
To achieve the intentions I wrote out last year,
In most cases not even coming quite near.

How Can They Know

"His life would be awful," the doctors said,
"He really would be better off dead."
But how are they sure this is really true?
What if the unborn child were you?

A great many people with handicaps
Have to accept that there may be gaps
In what they can do and the choices there are,
And their disability may be a bar
To some things that others regard as the norm,
But this doesn't mean that they cannot perform
A great many tasks, maybe better than most
And often can cope with a difficult post,
Like being the Home Secretary, just for a start,
For a disabled person can still be quite smart.
And very few people, allowed to be born
Find themselves later beginning to mourn
That they were permitted their years on this earth
Instead of being killed at some point before birth.

Growing Older

The time has come when I'm seventy-five,
And still delighted to be be alive;
My full-time job means I'm working until
It's five every day, with no time to be ill
or feel depressed or lonely or sad,
Though at the end of the day I'm glad
To put on my coat and fly through the door
Happy I don't have to work any more.
But working ensure that I can afford
To enjoy all my leisure and never be bored.
There're plays to see and I always seek
Something that's interesting every week.
And if there's no play that I want to see
There're plenty of cinemas close to me,
With maybe a film, either classic or new,
Which I one evening would like to view.
Then there are concerts, with so much choice,
Reflecting the range of the human voice.
New exhibitions and lectures which might
Give me a further or greater insight
Into those topics which often I find
Tend to contribute to broaden my mind
And then, of course, there's the active part
Of lives like mine, where for a start,
I can join a choir and happily sing,
With all the enjoyment that that will bring.
Or go on some walks in the countryside,
On my own or a group with a guide.
Row on the ponds in a smallish boat,
That I can hopefully keep afloat.
There are plenty of classes if I have a yen
To learn something new, from art through to zen.
Perhaps ballroom dancing to keep myself fit,
Or a social club where they gather to knit.
There's tennis and netball and swimming of course,
Or I can spend time in the park on a horse.
Being seventy-five doesn't mean life is past,
For what is available's definitely vast,
And if you're determined you're going to build
A life where your days always tend to be filled
With interesting things which will keep you alert
And from this intention you never divert,
Then life can be fun, whatever they say,
With much to look forward to each single day.

Colours

The world is full of many hues,
Not just reds and greens and blues,
Yellow, purple black and white,
But millions which show in our sight.
We can detect a tiny change
In the colours in each range;
The slightest variation leads
To a shade, from which proceeds
In tiny steps until at last,
Another well known colour's passed.
Reds turn slowly into browns,
As black their vibrant colour drowns;
Reds and whites turn into pink,
As together both shades sink;
Blues and yellows turn to green,
With many changes in between.
The normal human eye can see
Two million shades; most would agree
That's huge, and; no computer can
Compete on this with any man.

The Saturday before Christmas

The shops are packed with people - there is hardly room to move,
And as the day progresses it's not likely to improve,
For it's coming up to Christmas; 'tis the Saturday before,
And everyone is shopping, buying ever more and more.
As Christmas is a part of life and comes up every year,
One wonders why so many wait until it is so near,
Each year, however, it's  the same, with shoppers everywhere,
Buying piles of food and drink, till shelves are looking bare;
Looking for the things they want around on Christmas Day,
Trying to find some presents for the guests who'll come to stay.
It must be very stressful trying to shop in such a rush
With endless queues and little chance of missing all the crush.
Perhaps it would be better if more people planned ahead,
And did their Christmas shopping over several weeks instead.

Cooking New Dishes

It's nice to cook new dishes, and I've tried out quite a few,
From things that are exotic to some different types of stew;
I peel and chop the vegetables, and put them in the pan
Or maybe deftly scatter all the pieces on a flan;
I flavour them with many herbs to give a different taste,
Using any oddments so that nothing goes to waste;
I boil and fry and bake and steam, so nothing is the same;
To not try out these different means I think would be a shame.
I like things to be colourful, so always try to choose
Ingredients that will provide a varied mix of hues.
I use a lot of items, from the chopping boards to jugs,
Pots and pans and knives and spoons and colanders and mugs;
Blenders, whisks and sieves as well; perhaps a glass or cup -
I only wish a fairy would then do the washing up.

Girls Should Play Sports

Instead of spending money on a host of slimming products
Most girls would gain more benefit from being involved with sports,
From playing in a football team to running round the park,
Developing their muscles flying round the tennis courts.

Whatever type of exercise they really fancy doing,
Will help to keep their weight in check, as well as being fun,
Especially if it is the sort that can be played outdoors,
So they will get the exercise as well as lots of sun.

And all that constant exercise will give them all the glow
Which comes from being active, and will give their looks a boost;
They'll see the difference clearly when they've done it for a while
And will enjoy the healthy look that active sport's produced.

Some Saudi Women have got the Vote

Some Saudi  women have got the vote,

And that is something one should note,

But how much further must they go

Until the time when they will know,

Equality before the law;

Only then and not before

Can it be said that they are free,

To be just what they want to be.

For they’re still not allowed to do

So many things, and their rights are few.

They’re not allowed to drive a car,

Which many might think quite bizarre.

Nor open a bank account, even if rich,

Without consent of a male, and which

Need not be given unless he agrees;

Saudi women can’t do as they please.

Trying on clothes for them is out,

Along with deciding to travel about

Without a related male’s consent;

Saudi women must be content

To ask permission all the time,

And they have no chance to climb

The ladder to a good career;

At work equality’s still not near.

Uncensored fashion mags are banned

At the government’s command.

Their lives are bound by rules which stop

Them even going out to shop

On their own, if they desire,

A way of living that’s quite dire.

They cannot mix at all with men;

And there’s no indication when

The law might change and set them free

To mix with who they want to see.

So though they’ve got a partial vote,

Which could be taken to denote

A change of heart, there’s many miles

And it’s certain many trials

Before a Saudi women can

Be the equal of her man.

Our Vulnerability to Power Cuts

At one time a power cut produced little more
Than some inconvenience; a bit of a bore
To find nothing happened on flicking the switch;
It might be a nuisance, but still nothing which
Would cause too much trouble, for candles would do
Though days might elapse till it came on anew.
When shops still had tills operated by hand,
They still could keep open with candles to stand
For the lights that weren't working; and offices too
Didn't need to have power, as today they all do.
For we're now completely dependent on power
Which must be available  through every hour
Of the day and the night, without missing a beat;
If it fails normal life quickly faces defeat,
For power's today needed to charge mobile phones,
And run the equipment that everyone owns.
No shop or an office could function today,
With all electricity taken away.
We're so much more vulnerable than in the past
For our needs through the years have increased till they're vast
And if there's a cut, then the days are long gone,
When workers and others could just carry on.

In Praise of Greasy Spoons

Greasy spoons may not mentioned as the place to eat, and yet
What is listed on the menu is exactly what you get.
Whether it's an English breakfast, with the items all spelled out,
Or an omelette, plain or Spanish, no-one's left in any doubt
What the ordered meal consists of, how the food will be prepared
For it's clearly on the menu, where each item is declared.
And the portions tend to generous, even when the cost is low,
With service that is usually excellent, rarely is it ever slow.
It's often not the same, however, if one tries a gastropub
Especially when they have decided they will serve exotic grub.
Names of dishes may not tally with the food that's on the plate,
As with great imagination, chefs make efforts to create,
Meals that certainly are different; perhaps they even are unique,
Which today brings much attention, and is what so many seek.
But other people have a preference for the food they know so well,
With its firm dependability and delicious home-made smell.

There's Always Something to Do

How can anyone claim that in London,
They often feel bored, for there's nothing to do,
When there are available endless activities,
Permanent ones, plus each day something new.

And many activities don't require money;
All can join in, for they're totally free;
And many that aren't are within people's budgets,
For all that they charge is a very small fee.

London is full of museums and galleries,
Many of which do not make any charge;
Some might be small and of limited interest,
But some that are free are incredibly large.

And many each day put on interesting lectures,
Given by experts, and all can join in,
The number of topics is just so enormous,
To list them one would not know where to begin.

Then there are parks everywhere in the city,
Beautiful gardens, to wander around,
Woodlands and other quite interesting features,
Within every borough can easily be found.

Those who like music will never have trouble
Discovering places where they can enjoy
Singing or playing, for most choirs and bands
Are happy to welcome a new girl or boy.

Sports clubs will usually welcome new members,
People who want to join in and keep fit,
And many are cheap, and there's not need to worry
That joining means buying expensive new kit.

There also are clubs for all types of enthusiast
Whatever your interest, you're certain to find,
Others in London, who live in your borough
Seeking for friends of a similar mind.

Whether it's yoga or writing or chess,
Running or reading or elderberry wine,
Pottery, painting or going on rambles,
Motor mechanics or graphic design,

There's sure to be others who share in your passion,
Just ask in the library or look on the net,
And you might discover there other activities
New information your interest to whet.

Then there are cinemas, concerts and theatres
London's a city where arts find a home,
You'll always find something that  tickles your fancy
If thought all the various listings you comb.

There's really no need to be bored when in London
There's never a shortage of things you can do,
Whether you like to just stick to the old one,
Or every day look round to try something new.

Trust

All our lives are built on trust;
To live with others, it's a must
To know that things are what they seem;
This is something all would deem
Essential to live without constant fear
Of any person coming near.
A uniform must signify
A truth and not a blatant lie;
One needs the confidence that goes
With knowing that an ethic flows
In those on whom we must rely,
Who by their training occupy
Positions where one must be sure
They'll do their best to help or cure.
It would be terrible to live
Where no-one could afford to give
The trust that's needed to survive
By every human being alive.

The Wrong Choice

I had a good job and I wished to progress;

It demanded my all, so I couldn’t give less.

My days were spent working; few evenings were free,

But that was the culture, and not just for me.

And then I fell pregnant; it was the result

Of just once being careless – entirely my fault.

My reaction was panic with thoughts running wild;

How could I possibly bring up a child?

My lover lost interest as soon as he knew.

Leading me stranded without more ado.

My boss had no sympathy; all he could say,

Was a baby would mean my career thrown away.

Alone and depressed I decided to act,

Even though I was aware of the fact

That most of my thoughts had become rather blurred

And deep down inside me I would have preferred

Things to be different; but that wouldn’t be,

And everything really was just up to me.

So I phoned up the clinic, to fix up a date,

Hoping I wouldn’t have too long to wait.

And then it was over, and I felt relief;

Only months later did I suffer grief

Whenever I saw a young mother and child;

Years after I still cannot feel reconciled

To the fact that my baby died long before birth

And never enjoyed any time on this earth.

I still keep the date when he should have been born,

And tears fill my eyes as I silently mourn,

The child that should have been my joy and pride,

Growing throughout all the years by my side.

Especially as afterwards my job did not last,

And all my ambitions were left in the past.

The Climate is Changing

The climate is changing; it's happened before;
And no-one can prophesy what is in store,
For ice ages come and then ice ages go,
Their arrival quite quick or sometimes quite slow.
It's only a matter of twelve thousand years,
Since Europe was one of the ice-covered spheres.
Then the ice melted; the European scene
Changed very quickly from white into  green.
Rainfall can vary; each few hundred years
A world beating storm without warning appears,
Whole districts are flooded and millions may drown,
Before the high levels of water go down.
It happened in China not too long ago,
And dealt the whole country a terrible blow.
Europe has also seen terrible storms,
Which deviate far from the continent's norms.
North Africa once was the source of the grain,
Which fed southern Europe; but here yet again,
The climate has changed, and a desert now stands
In place of what used to be prime fertile lands.
The famed North West Passage was in the past  free
Of the ice that now covers that cold Arctic sea.
England was once so much warmer than now,
With summers that up in the north would allow
The grapes to all ripen, producing good wines,
But nowadays the climate is too cold for vines.
Droughts have occurred throughout history and so
It's nothing unusual if rivers don't flow
Since rain hasn't fallen for many a year
And most of the land of all grass is now clear.
The truth is that climate's not static at all,
Temperatures rise and then temperatures fall;
So with the rainfall, the sunshine and snow,
The storms and the winds which so regularly blow.
They've done so for thousands of years in the past,
So today's climate can't be expected to last.
But will certainly change, though today we can't know
The direction in which all the changes will go.

Toddlers should have Reins

It really doesn't take much brains
To see that toddlers should have reins
Which have the great advantage that
They help to see they don't get fat.
Instead of sitting in a pram,
They can gambol like a lamb,
Safely held so they can't stray,
Getting exercise each day,
Which will help to make them strong,
Being active all day long.
There's also something else that's true,
That they'll become more tired than you,
And when their bedtime comes around,
They'll close their eyes without a sound.

Cycling in the Countryside

The wind's in my hair as I poodle along,
Feeling so healthy and active and strong.
I look all around as I slowly go by,
Viewing the woods and the fields and the sky.
I hardly need pedal, the road is so flat,
So cycling is easy - I'm grateful for that,
For I can then concentrate on other things,
The joy that a day out of doors always brings
The sound of birds singing, the mooing of cows,
The sight of a meadow that's full of bright flowers,
Squirrels and rabbits which scamper around,
Perhaps in the distance a tractor's faint sound.
There's nothing to beat a day spent out of doors,
Cycling along with enough time to pause
And simply enjoy all the nice clean fresh air
And all of the good things that one can see there.

Christians in the Middle East

For two thousand years they have lived in the lands
Where Jesus once walked, but their history now stands
At a crossroads, where they may be forced to depart,
To move far away and to make a new start
In a place they'll be safe, where they still can adhere
To the faith of their fathers, without constant fear
Of murder and rape and enslavement for girls,
That in many cities around them now swirls.
For hundreds of years they had no wish to flee
And only have now since they wish to be free
To worship their Lord as they have in the past,
Out of the reach of their enemies' blast.
What does the future hold?   No-one can know,
But Christians who've fled now need somewhere to go
Where they can be certain that they will find peace,
And from persecution,a needed release.

Singing is Good for You

Singing is an easy way
To brighten up a dismal day,
Whether it's just in the bath
Or walking up the garden path,
Or while working in the house
Perhaps together with your spouse.
Wherever you decide to sing,
And make the air with music ring
It will enhance the way you feel,
Increase your happiness and zeal.

Too Large to See All

The world is a very varied place,
And most would agree it is the case
That none can possibly see it all
However long and far they trawl.
Just a continent is too much
For anyone to more than touch
A few of the things existing there,
Even if it's largely bare.
And when it's large and stretches far,
Its very size will tend to bar
The likelihood  they can explore
More than a bit of it before
Old age will finally descend
With working life brought to an end.
For every bit of land enshrines
A history that enquiring minds
Will almost surely want to climb
If only they can find the time.
And then there are the towns as well,
The places where the people dwell;
Each could involve a life-time's toil,
Excluding all the country soil.

Getting Down to Work

Time is passing quickly and still little has been done,
There's piles of things to get through that I haven't yet begun;
Like tackling all the cleaning that's been left for lack of time,
So now the flat has started to show definite signs of grime;
There's quite a lot of mending, which I really ought to do,
To make things last much longer, thus avoiding buying new.
The cupboards need a clear-out, getting rid of all the junk,
So there is space again where I can stow my largish trunk.
The curtains need a spring-clean, for they're looking rather brown,
But usually have to wait because they're awkward taking down.
There're letters to be written, which I should have done before,
But they like all the other things are just another chore.
The duvets should be washed again, before the season's out.
Some bathroom tiles need fixing - now where's the tin of grout?
One kitchen tap is leaking, and I really ought to try,
To mend it and so stop the drips before the year goes by.
There's so much needing doing, that that it really seems to me
Before I start I really need a nice hot cup of tea.

Making the Most of Winter

Though the days are dark and dreary, and the evenings even worse,
That's no reason why a person shouldn't still themselves immerse
In everything they did in summer, when the days were warm and bright,
Going out both in the daytime, and as often in the night.
Rather than just hibernating till the spring comes round again,
Make the most of every minute, ignoring cold and snow and rain

Left and Right

I don't understand how one firmly ascribes
The terms left or right to political tribes,
For most are quite mixed in the views that they hold'
Their leaders would certainly if they were polled
Profess their support without shadow of doubt,
For things that their party should not be about
If they were the heirs of the left or the right,
And kept all their former ideals still in sight.
Higher wages for workers? That surely should fall
In a leftist remit, and not right wing at all,
But the question of wages can be double edged
And some right wing parties are quite firmly pledged
To improving the lot of the whole working class,
Demanding improvements that far would surpass
The claims of the left, who would naturally seem
The focus of most of the workforce's dream.
Then there is capital; there on the left
Are many rich people who don't see as theft
The taking of profits the workers have made,
Who don't feel ashamed of the fortunes they're paid.
It's said that the right favours foreigners out,
With people who're always quite willing to shout
That jobs should be their's and not taken by those
Who come from abroad; they would like to impose
Restrictions on anyone coming to stay,
So virtually all would be kept far away.
But left leaning parties can also agree
They don't want more people, for they clearly can see
They're certainly likely to take every job
That's fairly unskilled, and that would soon rob
The locals of work that they always have done,
Which often might mean they were left then with none.
Rather than using the terms left and right,
Perhaps we should constantly keep in our sight,
The fact manifestos will often collide,
But also quite often they stand side by side.

Improving Heating for the Elderly

Tens of thousands of elderly people die each winter form lack of heat,
Faced with the fact if they turn up the fire they won't have the money for something to eat.
For so many houses and flats in this country are not designed to keep out the cold,
Something that's fine for the young and the healthy, but can be a problem for those who are old.
The cost of heating in winter's horrendous: only the well-off can simply ignore
The way every year from the onset of winter, all energy bills start immediately to soar.
Those who are fit can just put on more clothing and keep themselves warmer by moving about,
But that's not an option for most older people whose frailty means that they never go out.
What's needed for houses is  they should be draught-proof, with good insulation to keep the heat in,
While at the same time an assessment of costings for heating all old people's homes should begin.

Shopping with Friends

I hate going shopping with friends who are slow
When it comes to deciding on where we should go,
Partly because they can't make up their mind
Exactly what items they're hoping to find.
And then when we get there we enter each shop
And almost inevitably take time to stop
And look at each counter for ages before,
Making our way through the rest of the store.
Hours are soon wasted, with nothing being bought,
With me on the verge of becoming quite fraught.
When I go out shopping I like to move fast,
In and out of each shop before minutes have passed;
I know what I want, and my outlook is based
On the premiss I really have no time to waste
On looking at things which perhaps catch my eye
But which I have certainly no thought to buy.

Christmas Carols

There's something uplifting which dwells in the sound,
Of carols being sung, as each Christmas comes round;
The words are familiar, as over the years
The music has wafted in everyone's ears.
Much of it jolly and easy to sing,
With words emphasising the message they bring.
Then there are others whose haunting notes tell,
The story of Christmas we all know so well.
Others are rousing, and easily could stand
As pieces designed for a lively brass band.
Whatever the music, their purpose is clear -
Proclaiming a message as Christmas draws near
With scope for strong voices to make themselves heard,
Ensuring that people can hear every word.

Kurdish Girl Soldiers

It's mistaken to think only men wish to fight
To keep safe their homeland, defend what is right,
For women too know just how much may be lost,
And they like their men are aware of the cost
Of not doing anything if they're attacked;
Many girls know quite well that they also must act
To see that their culture and creed do not die,
Crushed by an enemy while they stood by
Not doing anything, till 'twas too late,
With no option left but accepting their fate.
One sees in the Kurdish girls fighting beside,
Their brothers in arms, to help turn back the tide
Of those who'd destroy them and make them all slaves,
Women who'd much rather go to their graves
Knowing their efforts had helped to achieve
Promotion of ideals in which they believe.

Achieving Happiness

Some people aren't happy unless they receive
All that they want, for they cannot believe
That they could be happy with anything less,
And so very often their life is a mess.

Their wants are so great, they'll be rarely fulfilled,
And increasing desires will not ever be stilled;
And so they're unhappy, for always it seems
They never succeed in achieving their dreams.

But if they accepted they don't need it all,
The list of their needs changed from large down to small,
Within a short time they might easily find
Happiness rests very much in the mind

A Room lit by Candles

Candles give off a most welcoming glow,
And on the whole room candles help to bestow
A feeling of peace, as each little cream flame
Helps light the room; lamps just aren't the same.

The light they provide is so gentle and soft,
Rising from flames that are reaching aloft;
They flicker and twist in the slightest of breeze,
Return to being upright with just the same ease.

And candles are linked to the worship of God,
Reminding us all of the path Jesus trod;
They signify more than the light that they give,
Pointing the way to how people should live.

Your Life can be Cheap

Your life can be cheap if you haven't been born,
The choice of a mother whose heart wouldn't mourn
The fact you weren't given the chance to arrive
Into the world, at full term and alive.

Five hundred years in the past it was known
A baby was separate; they would not condone
Executions of women until they were sure
It was one they were killing, and not two or more.

But today in most countries the law there now bows
By strange logic down to a view that allows
The mother and child to be thought of as one;
All rights are the mother's; the baby has none.
It's part of her body, despite all we know,
And accepted as fact since those days long ago;

How can it be that ideas have gone back,
And so many people today seem to lack
The power to see clearly what people once knew,
A baby and mother are not one, but two.

An Artist's Life

The numbers are few
Of artistic types who
Can manage to earn a great deal;
For most their life's way
Forever will stay,
Where they worry about their next meal.

For even the great,
Who lived to create
Were not in their life-time well-paid;
And it wasn't until
They passed over the hill
And were dead, that their fortunes were made.

Retirement Home

 Little cottage by the sea,
That I think's the place for me,
Which I hope I shall acquire,
When the time comes to retire.

A little garden packed with flowers
Where I could just sit for hours,
Time that would always be well spent
Enjoying every sound and scent.

Cosy rooms with lights aglow,
In the winter, in the snow,
With an atmosphere of peace,
Which I hope would never cease.,

The Peacemakers

Peace is so precious; there's  always a need
For people whose vision is simply to lead
The world to a place where a new way of life,
Banishes violence and all forms of strife.

People who try every way that they can,
To calm all the anger that lives within man;
People who work hard to make others see.
There's no need to fight though they cannot agree.

People who seek to show all how to live
In a world where's it's perfectly normal to give
Instead of just taking from everyone round,
With little compassion or love to be found.

People who bring a conciliatory word,
Which seems to the violent to be quite absurd,
To all situations where trouble could flare,
But may be prevented because they are there.

People whose aim to to bring about peace,
Who pray every day that all conflicts may cease;
And man may yet live in a world where at last,
Terror and hatred are things of the past.

Email versus Letters

Email's very handy if you need a quick reply,
When something must be forwarded before the hour's gone by;
It's useful for informing those who always talk too much;
A brief and succinct email is a way to keep in touch
Without the need to get bogged down in all their endless chat,
When you really haven't time to get involved in that.
It also has the benefit of being completely free,
Something that's important, as most people would agree.
But though it's so convenient, I quite firmly still believe,
A letter coming in the post is nicer to receive.

Cupid's Arrows

The spark of love can quickly appear
Whenever two young people find it clear
They see in the other a kindred soul -
Cupid's arrow have hit their goal.

At work or at play, four eyes can meet
Or maybe just passing in the street,
And something happens, a flame is lit -
Cupid's arrows have made a hit.

The interest is kindled, from which can flow,
A life-long love which will grow and grow.