Awaiting a Homecoming

With every hour that passes,
The time to wait grows less,
Until I have her in my arms,
To enjoy her sweet caress.

These months have been a burden
Of waiting longingly,
The time of her homecoming when
Her smiling face I'll see.

I'm proud of all she's done,
In the time she's been away,
And never would have wanted
That my love at home should stay.

But I count the days remaining
Until she will return,
And always in her absence,
My heart for her will burn.

To a Child Facing Winter in a Cold Country

It's very nearly time for boots, and scarves and mittens too,

For winter's round the corner and is on its way to you;

Not much longer can you dress in flimsy summer wear;

Those you'll need to ;put away when winter-time is there.

You'll need to wrap up warmly every time you go outside,

So you'll be well protected when on icy roads you slide.

But though it may be cold and dark with very little sun,

That doesn't mean that winter cannot also be great fun.

Vegetables

Delicious fresh cooked vegetables, their colours staring out,
Reminding one attractive food is what it's all about;
Carrots with their reddish hues and peas still emerald green,
White fleshed aubergines with skins wearing a purple sheen.
Tomatoes with their bright red skins and bright red flesh inside,
Leaks who wear their palest green with a certain sense of pride.
Beans in many varied shapes, with colours which can range
From black to brown or darkest green, or yellow for a change.
Onions which are usually white, but can be purple too;
Artichokes boiled in iron pots which can then turn bright blue.
Then there are orange coloured swedes, mashed or left alone,
Potatoes which though almost white still have a creamy tone.
Parsnips too can be quite pale, with just a yellow tinge,
Lettuces whose leaves disport a variegated fringe.
Radishes which white inside, still have a bright red skin,
Peppers which are red outside and also red within.
Spinach, spouts and curly kale all come in shades of green,
From fairly pale to very dark and all hues in between.
With all their many colours they are tasty things to eat -
A plate of well-cooked vegetables can really be a treat.

Meetings

Some people like to have meetings
To fill up the hours in the day,
To make life a little less boring,
Or give themselves something to say.

The like going into a room
And shutting the door to the world
Pretending that there in the meeting,
Ideas and decisions are swirled.

Many are quite fond of talking,
And meetings provide a nice place,
To sound off on all sorts of topics,
While met in a limited space.

No-one can get up and leave it
To do so would be very rude,
And if it's the boss who has called it,
They have to look focused and glued.

Meetings are often the joy
Of those who have little do do,
But like to take part in discussions
Propounding their own point of view.

But to those who've an intray that bulging,
Meetings can be a great strain,
Taking up time that is precious,
With little or nothing to gain.

They glance at their watches whilst hoping
The meeting will finish quite soon;
They know that they've work to be doing,
And begrudge they've a lost afternoon.

Lucky Sleepers

Some people are lucky;  their sleep can't be curbed;
No matter what happens they stay undisturbed,
Nodding off easily; not waking until
The clock interrupts with its call loud and shrill.
It seems that their brains have just not been designed
For spending hours sleepless with things on their mind.
No noises result in their snapping awake;
It'd have no effect if things started to shake.
They don't seem affected by mid-summer's heat,
When the temperature's such one needs only a sheet.
They can drop off to sleep even when over-tired,
Just closing their eyes when to sleep is desired.
And of course there's one positive thing that they reap -
Never feeling exhausted from losing their sleep.

A Lonely Shore at Evening

At evening time I sit on the beach
Out of range of the ebbing tide's reach;
The sand is still damp from the high tide before
Which makes its way regularly right up the shore.
The waves flow so gently with ripples of white,
Appearing like frills in the soft evening light.
The sea stretches outward for mile upon mile,
Slowing retreating away all the while.
A few boats are bobbing on top of the waves,
Enjoying a freedom which everyone craves
The bright sun surrounded by orange descends,
And now is just visible where the sea ends.
Darkness moves in with reduction of light,
As evening changes and turns into night.
All is so peaceful, with hardly a sound,
Except as the light crashing waves run aground.

Tudor Music

There's something distinctive about all the music
Composed in the days when there sat on the throne
The long line of Tudors whose love of good lyrics
Made sure that a great deal was written and known.

The instrument used were all simple and tuneful,
Nothing too large or with beats far too low;
Nothing too rapid or violent or clanging,
The music was usually designed to be slow.

But great use was made of the talents of singers,
Blending their voices through carious parts,
Producing together a sound that was heavenly,
Skilled as they were in the musical arts.

The music of Tudor times tells of a country
Where singing and dancing were just part of life,
Despite all the poverty which was endemic,
Compounded by problems of internal strife.