The Small Book of Poetry
This book is in tribute to those who have loved and lost anyone who suffered from dementia. Lets make sure that their memories still live on...
All Poems written by Jim Mannay
Am I getting older? A blue sky! I should smile! So why am I Deep in Termoil? Leaves are falling! It’s appaling! Each falling leaf Leaves me cold Good Grief I’m getting old
Who Am I? I am alone in a crowd, But I am never lonely, I am living I am friendly but not friendless I am lovely and giving I am rarely thoughtless I am carefree, yet strict I am hopeful, yet afraid I am thoughtful, yet free But most of all I am me
A Poem About a “Hug” It’s wondrous what a hug can do A hug can cheer you When you’re blue A can say “I love you so” Or “How I hate to see you go” A hug is “Welcome back again” “Great to see you, where’ve you been?” A hug can smooth a small child’s pain Bring the rainbow back again A hug delights and warms And charms It must be why God gave us arms
Linda
So you’ve met a girl You’re brought to your knees Your heads in a whirl You’re happy because she’s Lovely to look at Interesting to know Natural for all that Delightful and kind A witch, a spellbinder All of this and more It must be Linda That’s for sure
Fleeting Vision I see grey outlines Of our mountain passes Across the sea, the sun shines On our field of corn and grasses
“The Sun’s Children” I am the sun. I circle in space. I have nine children Who I love to race. Millions of miles apart, Saturn, Pluto, Venus and Mars. Just for a start, Following like a little stars. Mecury, Uranus and the Earth Accompanied by old Neptune. They each give birth, To their own little moon. Some had more than one. Circling around at a low pace, Smiling at Mother Sun, Millions miles above, in space.
Star of Space Star of Space! What wonderous World, Basks in your warmth today? What banners are unfurled? What do they say? Do they cry peace, Or the warriors way? Seeking the peace? or That illusive prize, Which heralds sorrow Closing their eyes To that sad tomorrow
Putty in her hands A pleasant face, a lovely smile Well groomed hair, and all the while You’re made aware, of eyes gre green, As seas storm tossed, yet calm and serene One look you’re lost, she leads you a dance Where will it end? There’s just a chance, She’ll be your friend, oh it’s all gone, That care free life, “Careful! Yvonne With the Putty Knife”
“Space” A poem in Prose A little girl who lived on a hillside estate, Looked out across the Bristol Channel, On a beautiful sunny morning That night had been a stormy one. She looked at her mother and said, “Look Mam, the whole world, is there!” Her mother, looked at her smiling daughter, She said “It is certaining lovely part, But is is not the whole world. There are other countries, and other worlds When you go to higher classes at School. You will learn of other worlds called ‘Planets’, Other moons and stars, in outer space” “What is outer space Mam?” Said the girl “It is a very big place, outside our, world Full of stars and other things, that we, Do not know of. Only people called Astronomers Who study these things, can tell you of it. But even they, do not know everything, Only God knows everything! He has to look after those other worlds! The little girl, stayed silent, for a while. That night she dreamt of a million stars. Strange worlds and people. At the school, about outer space.
When she awoke the next morning. She promised herself. Her Mam and Dad, That she would learn, all she could.
Hello Happiness Hello happiness, Wish you were here. I have to confess, That when you are near, You’re the sun, you’re the moon, Your eyes are the stars, You’re an evening in June. You’re the sound of guitars, Why else would I choose! To stay under your spell? Do I want to break lose Do I hell!
An Exercise of Free Writing A million years and then some, flow, What is infinity? Where is the end? We are “The Children of the Stars” Where do we go? What do we know? Maybe there are other words! Perhaps this is only a beginning friend Days of hope, nights without end What if this other dimension, Of which we can only guess, Shares us one by one? No more us, none the less It’s most exciting. This “Free Writing” We should do more often Then it would soften Our approach to life. But what is life? A dream without end!
Reach Out When we were young,
We went to school,
We laughed, we sung,
We played it cool.
Now we have grown, It seems unfair
The joy we’ve known, Is no longer there.
Where is the love?
The carefree laughter?
Is it above?
Will it come after?
The day is through?
Or must we shout.
Begin anew
Or just reach out?
Hope will return
Without a doubt
If we will learn To just,
reach out!
A Little Light Relief (A Parody on “If” by Rudyard Kipling) If you can work, without a frown If as you toil, you laugh in glee If you don’t worry, when things look down If you don’t stop for a cup of tea If when the world is dark With thundery clouds and rain You can light that bright spark That makes us smile again If when all your dreams crumble You can still admire the view Then your heading for a tumble Cos there’s something wrong with you
Hello Tomorrow I was Mr Nice Guy, Forever falling, falling, falling You were, sleepy, apple pie, Forever, stalling, stalling, stalling You want to change, But keep putting it off, Until it’s out of range Now I’m browned off, If you do I’ll be gladder ‘cause I’m in a tizz, Getting madder and madder I’ll even try fizz, A bottle or two, If that’s what it takes To get through, to you!
Cardiff to Cornwall It’s twenty to eight! Would you believe, This train is late! When will it leave? This waiting’s hard, it’s time he blew! There goes the flag, what’s that you say? Time for a fag! We’re on our way. Here’s Newport already, here comes the tunnel, There’s old Eddie, smoking like a funnel! Here’s Filton Airport, I’m for the buffet! Fancy a snort? It’s your turn to pay! Look at that Dame, she’s dressed to kill! More of the same, thanks Ed I will. Bristol, Weston, Highbridge; stops at Bridgewater. Better have a sandwich, do you think I ough’ter? Another wait at Taunton, cor she’s a smasher! D’you think she’s caughton? Let’s not gate crash eh! Must be her bloke, snooty looking fella He’s just a joke, but she’s “Bella Bella”! Exeter, Dawlish, Newton Abbot, he’s taking snuff. A filthy habit, gosh I feel rough! Plymouth, change here! We’ll have to dash!
There’s a machine near, can’t find the cash! Just made the train. My head’s aching! We’re off again, my thirst needs slaking. The scenery’s grand! Smell that air! Look at that snd! We’re nearly there! Truro, Bodmin, I say there’s tin mines, struth! A mountain of china clay. We’re here it’s Redruth!
The intuitive mind is a sacred gift, and the rational mind its faithful servant. We have created a society that honours the servant and has forgotten the gift. - Albert Einstein
May your dreams come true and your memories live forever
Produced by Sarah Pearson 2011