Help our angels

Tonights poem is obvious. It’s day 5 of the Napowrimo challenge but I’m going off topic.

Help our angels

No halos surround our angels today

The nursing heroes put themselves in harms way

Looking after those who need their help

The sick and dying, their compassion felt

Yet life goes on as we isolate

Going no further than the garden gate

As children cry and lawns are mowed

A 2pm social distance tea break in our road

The neighbours talk, they’re good to see

Over the gate our strong community

People staying home, keeping to the plan

There’s always one or two, I don’t understand

Give the nurses a chance, we can win

Our new routine, take it on the chin

Each day as the numbers rise

Don’t be a statistic, think, be wise

Please stay at home despite the weather

We can beat this but only together

Eyes closed tight

Tonights poem is for day 4 of the Napowrimo challenge. Write a poem about a dream.

Eyes closed tight

Whilst you sit and wait your family has grown

Thirty years have past, the time has flown

Our grandchildren lighten our dreary days

You’ve missed so much in so many ways

I’ve reached the milestone on the road

Forgiven your promises, nothing was bestowed

The baton passed, now the family head

You didn’t achieve, my retirement’s ahead

No chance to say “Hello” one more time

You still sit and wait as I write this rhyme

A vision or dream that fateful night

I can still your face with my eyes closed tight

Pause a while

Tonights poem is from day 3 of the Napowrimo challenge. From where you’re sat take 10 words, find further rhyming words and build a poem.

Pause a while

Looking out from my country pile

Working from home makes me think a while

On my laptop for hour after hour

In my new office there’s vases of flowers

Special days captured on family photos

In neighbours windows wonderful rainbows

Easter eggs, so tempting and sweet

Resist temptation, waiting to be eaten

Tucked in a corner a tiny chair

Passed down the line, a family airloom

On the dining table my coffee cup

This isolation it’s no country club

My mobile phone keeps me in touch

With friends and family we miss so much

Out in the garden Spring is in the air

A moment to pause, let’s just stop and stare

A blue plaque is all that remains

Tonights poem is for day two of the Napowrimo challenge.

A blue plaque is all that remains

No thumping beat, no enticing sound

A shopping centre on that hallowed ground

Not one brick where we danced all night

At the dawn we’d exit to the light

Cavernous dance hall from years gone by

My weekly pilgrimage, the nights would fly

No flashing lights, no fancy strobes

Just Adidas holdalls and baggy clothes

No disco tunes or mirror balls

Just amazing dancers and sweaty walls

Seven inch vinyl as rare as can be

Forty years later each treasured by me

Looking for obscure records searching through boxes

American artists never played on jukeboxes

The sound lives on despite the wife

Northern Soul to me it’s a way of life


Tonights poem is for day 1 of the Napowrimo challenge. A prompt a day for April. Todays is to write a self portrait poem with metaphors. I may be slightly off topic but here goes.


A city dweller knowng his roots

A tough life growing through my youth

Norwegian origins who’s hair was blonde

Not raider or pilager, our boat was wrong

From farmers and settlers, we were at the back

During the Summer, we ploughed the right track

Far too cold in the Highland kyles

Searching for soil so we travelling the miles

Down to the south where homes were built

Thank goodness ‘cos I don’t have the legs for a kilt

Up further north, I arrived on the scene

With Mancunian slang, “know what I mean, mate”

A lifelong passion of Northern Soul

The more obscure, that’s my goal

As age creeps on, starting to travel the world

To the orchestra of destinations, as places unfurl

Turning flour in bread, charity baking for the masses

I know I’m going deaf who said I’m slow as molasses

As passions develop even with my eccentric side

Life is perfect with my family as my guide

One day I’ll be gone that gives me the chills

Until then welcome to the mosiac called


So enchanted

Tonights poem is reflects on the world around during our current situation.

So enchanted

Majestically rising from the east

The Sun gives light to its daily feast

The earth still turns in its solar path

Just another day in our aftermath

Birds still rise with early morning songs

A crescendo of sound as they sing along

Flowers grow with colours bursting forth

The changing seasons are still on course

Our daily trudge lays ahead

An eight hour day then to bed

There will be more to life somewhere beyond

The grass will be greener, there’s no magic wand

Our cares and worries, let all pass by

The dark clouds clear there’s just blue sky

How beautiful yet taken for granted

This wonderful planet, so enchanted

Before it sets way off in the west

A day complete, we’re ever so blessed

Sunset shimmers over an ocean of blue dyes

Above and below, reflections of a sapphire sky

Stir crazy

Tonights poem is about our dilemma.

Stir crazy

Day after day the same four walls

Around the world that’s the lockdown call

Morning till night just pacing around

It’ll soon be over so remove that frown

Each day’s an echo, the same repeat

I need to lock away those jars on of sweets

The same tasks on a continual loop

Do all we can even jump through hoops

Pacing around like an animal in a cage

Almost blowing a gasket on a pressure gauge

I’m sure Sue’ll find me some DIY to do

But I’ll may defer them as I’ll need a brew

We’re prisoners in our homes, trapped in a cell

We’re all going through this corona virus hell

Not “Walkies” again

Tonights ode is from a pet dogs perspective.

Not “Walkies” again

Is it just because I’m a hound

I’m starting to hate that “Walkies” sound

I know may only be the family pet

With your daily exercise needs to be met

The cat escapes this and the goldfish too

No need to drag them outside to poo

On the park all you can hear is “fetch”

Day after day until we’re on the homestretch

I’ve now been outside five times today

To the same old tree, inside I want to stay

With Stanley, Harry and Lulu looking so worn out

They just want to go home no doubt

It’s all too much effort to cock my leg

With so many dogs out, a little privacy I beg

Each time I try my best to hide my lead

Can’t wait for dinner and time for a feed

Thankfully for neighbours I can’t be loaned out

Because social distancing that would flout

To my basket, sleeping without a hitch

I’m so tired, just watch my paws start to twitch

Fresh bread

Tonights poem is about my afternoon activity.

Fresh bread

In the kitchen for a baking Saturday afternoon

I may be doing this every week until June

With four ingredients bring so much joy

Has always fed man, woman and boy

There’s salt, yeast, water and flour

Mix together, not sweet or sour

Lovingly kneaded, stretching gluten

Proving time, until it has risen

Magical odours given off by wheat

Bake until crusty, provided by heat

Enticing aromas,
“Mmm”, salivate

Fresh straight from the oven and on to a plate

Can’t wait until it touches my tongue

If definitely not ‘Egg Fu Young’

Warm bread, warm bread, warm bread and butter

“Ahhh delicious”, you can hear me mutter

As the first tasty slice goes down

Another round please, the crust it’s brown

A few ingredients in this recipe

Makes a meal ever so heavenly

A taste that ever so moreish

Easy to cook and just so delish

Crunchy crust and airy dough

Each mouthful as taste buds explode

Three hours to make and gone in a flash

All that’s left are crumbs in my moustache


Tonights poem is about the rainbows that have appeared in windows.


In the windows and at front doors

A new symbol of a real good cause

All around the world there’s signs of hope

Rainbows showing children are able to cope

With seven colours from bottom to top

From left to right, up and down non stop

Brightly coloured they’re a wonderful sign

An image that one day everything will be fine

In every house for miles and miles

A small gesture to make us smile

Collages made from crayons or paints

Oh yes, bye the way the NHS are saints

No downpours needed through sunny skies

From tears of sadness life will reprise