Thursday, October 22, 2015

Forecast Unchanged

It is suddenly much colder the last couple of days. At first I thought it was just because I was alone for a spell whilst my husband is driving one of the trucks through France. The house always seems warmer and cosier when he is home. It's funny really because if I were to be truthful, I actually look forward to the times when he is working away, because although he is the sweetest bloke, he is a bit of a control freak and wants me to join him doing as many of the daily activities as possible. Looking at my side of the coin; I do like the time to do lots of things that please me like scribbling the odd poem or doing some sewing, choosing my own programmes, actually a lot less TV when he is away. I stay out of coffee shops too and that saves me a bundle of time since the coffee break after the morning training session is his call of the Siren, I can resist her.
However, back to the weather. It's not looking good in our little antique weather house.



Forecast Unchanged 

She has a tedious life one has to say
With a procession of dull days spend indoors
Hidden in the house whilst her man is at play
Rarely out, is the stay at home wife he adores. 

Poor woman in the same faded shabby dress
For months on end she has hardy been out
He in his hat and brolly dressed to impress
A pompous fop show-off lording it about. 

She lives in his shadow as he rules the roost
Standing aside when he boasts that he’s brave
His dutiful wife waits unfairly rarely introduced
He stands with a smile or may genially wave. 

He sends her out when he cannot take the heat
And stays in shade on the rare sunny days
She hopes at those times a new lover to meet
But then fades back indoors to mend her ways. 

Just now and then they are seen side by side
Perhaps the moment when she thinks to leave
Does he beg her to stay, his once lovely bride
A quiet domination his own way to weave. 

Not much excitement, their home tiny yet grand
A life of shared separation spouse by spouse
Virtual prisoners on fragile balance stand
There silently in their Kendall weather house.
 


 

Tuesday, October 20, 2015

Write Night at WOW



Tonight is the nearest to Halloween that the WOW evening gets so it is officially the Halloween meeting. WOW is short for, 'World of Words' and roughly once per month there is a gathering
of people who get together on one of these 'Write Nights'. The evenings are the brainchild of the  charming, enthusiastic and very bubbly Melody Bridges. Melody works her socks off to encourage anybody who fancies themselves with a pen in their hand or indeed a computer, to hand.

A little while ago I ran a few of my poems past Melody in an email message for (sort of) approval for me to read on this occasion. She responded with a short message asking if I had anything suitable for Halloween. This poem is a true story and to put you in the picture, it is my version of the favourite scary movie line................................

 'I SEE DEAD PEOPLE'.

Witnesses to this haunting and mentioned in this story are: Bill Luckin, Rosie Luckin, Bernard Harris, myself, my husband Steve and my lovely daughter Jacqueline Rackham. The first three people named here are dead.


Jean
 
Quite early on in our relationship
Something less than a year in fact
We shared an interrelationship
That called for a degree of tact 

My husband had not said a word
‘Til one night sitting side by side
Stroking the cat while he purred
I said something I couldn’t hide 

“Ever feel that we are not alone”?
I’d wanted to say it for a while
Over time the thought had grown
He turned to me with a knowing smile 

He puffed through his cheeks a bit
“I thought it was just me”, he sighed
“You’ve seen her”? Eyebrows a-knit
“Thank heavens for that” he cried 

“Where did you see her, and when”?
“At the top of the stairs at first”, I said
“In the hall, and the front bedroom then,
She doesn’t seem to know she is dead” 

We talked about her in total calm
No fear at all by either of us felt
She did not want to do us any harm
Dazed as to what the past had dealt 

We went to visit the previous owner
He called his wife to say we were there
To see if she knew our mystery loner
Hand to her mouth then the back of her hair 

We described the woman we had seen
Looks went back and forth at each other
“I have to say that it sounds like Jean”
That would be Bill’s poor dead mother 

Photo albums all brought to the table
Silence fell as Rosie rummaged through
This time it was we who were not able
To hide feelings, it was the woman we knew 

We came home with an old photograph
Of Jean dressed just as we saw her
Placed in a sturdy frame, her epitaph 
On its final position we did then concur 

We said nothing to anybody else at all
Then my daughter went up to bed one night
Rushing back in, hands against the wall
“A lady on the stairs gave me such a fright” 

The teenager looked at us both and knew
That we knew, that much she quickly saw
What she had seen was completely true
Her outburst loud as she laid down the law 

We should have warned her, a ghost was here
She slowly calmed down and asked at last
“Why aren’t you scared, do you have no fear”?
From one to the other her eyes were cast 

We knew not why Jean was still in our home
And likewise she knew not why we were
She didn’t speak but continued to roam
We stopped in our tracks at a look from her 

A friend house-sat once when we were away
And on our return he gave us a warning
“There’s a ghost in this house, don’t say nay,
Dressed in black as if she is in mourning” 

The only physical thing that ever occurred
Just a little adjustment from time to time
The photo was faced down without a word
No special reason, no comment, no rhyme 

She never bothered or worried us at all
We lived there for years without dread
But suddenly she went away as we recall
Then we heard that her only son was dead 

She was waiting for him or so it seemed
The thought I had firm set in my mind
Her journey to heaven delayed she’d deemed
Not to leave her beloved son William behind