General Chat

Not last night, but the night before Three little witches came to my door One was Yellow, one was Green They all were shouting HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

I wish, I wish, I really wish, That I could hold the Muse. So that I could wite a poem, Any time I choose. But no she is a flighty Miss, Who comes and goes at random, And leaves me with an unfinished poem and the need to finish with the word "Tandem!" P.S. Loved the British Bulldog! Jim

There is a sadness when after days of winding through fields of flowers that seem endless, suddenly the stream reaches the ocean.

I love a good laugh! dont you? something that gets your whole body shaking. not for me the polite titter behind your hand but a real throw your head back sort , something to strike up the band. I like an earthy joke, though not too crude but i don't mind if its a little bit rude. If you laugh with a pal even better, laughing til you choke. who cares if no one else gets the joke. Not malicious sneering at others downfall. but genuine mirth at a witty recall. Laughter is infectious, and totally free. so my friends come laugh with me. Laugh at aches and pains, they will not hurt so bad laugh at lack of riches, things you never had. laugh at all those demons knocking at your door, Then throw back your head . and LAUGH! some more. Terri Morrow.

a big apology to Ray and deidre. Deidre i wish to take all blame for thinking it was Ray that had written the poem Cedar Red. Ray had clearly typed your name underneath the poem. it was never his intention to take the credit for it. The error was mine in not looking to check the author. A cardinal mistake, and one that obviously causes offence. I am sorry Ray, to have placed you in an awkward position. promise to be more careful in future. Deidre, my sincere apolgies, i do not wish to grovel, but i do realise how galling it is to think ones work has been plagarised. Terri

Hi I,m Trish from Cheshire My gg grandparents died long ago They rest in my town,and I didn't know I passed them by, most everyday I wonder if they knew,as I passed on my way I found them to-day resting side by side Using church registers as a guide To think every week as I sat in the pew They were nearby and I never knew I looked at the head stone neglected and old Iv'e been to the store for some paint of gold With bucket and brush I'll scrub away Here lies my ancestors,I'll proudly say Trish

I read this today while in dentist waiting room,its written by Beattie. One Little rose I would rather have a little rose from the garden of a friend, Than have the choicest flowers when my stay on earth must end. I would rather have one pleasant word in kindness said to me, than flattery when my heart is still and life has ceased to be. I would rather have a loving smile from friends I know are true, Than tears around my casket, when to the world I have bid adieu. Bring me your flowers today, whether pink or white or red, I would rather have one blossom now , than millions when I'm dead. Makes you think! Meryl

Keep the poems flowing friend so the pot will never end

The children in their cardboard masks Are out for Trick or Treat, With Plastic lanterns in their hands And Trainers on their feet. Collecting sweets and other treats Before they make a dash, To find the people in the Close Who always pay in cash. October ends with Halloween, With it's chance of making money, November starts with Bonfire night, Now don't you think that's funny? They're out again with the cardboard masks But this time on the Guy, Accosting every shopper Who has to pass them by. And yet before it's Bonfire Night And Apples in a barrel, The blighters are all on the step Singing a Christmas Carol!

Down by the pond Theres a bird which I'm fond The heron i watch while I'm sitting Hes, beaks long and thing And his legs are bare skin Cos he can't get trousers to fit him Copyright 2003

Remembrance day coming up....Don't forget to buy a poppy Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not here, I do not sleep I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on the snow, I am the sun on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken, in the morning's hush, I am the soft uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight, I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there, I did not die.

The flowers left thick at nightfall in the wood This Eastertide call into mind the men, Now far from home, who, with their sweethearts, should Have gathered them and will do never again. Edward Thomas (1878-1917)

by William Henry Davies What is life if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare. No time to stand beneath the boughs And stare as long as sheep or cows. No time to see, when woods we pass, Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass. No time to see, in broad daylight, Streams full of stars, like skies at night. No time to turn at Beauty's glance, And watch her feet, how they can dance. No time to wait till her mouth can Enrich that smile her eyes began. A poor life this if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare.

loneliness loneliness is not merely being alone! being without friends, not having a home. its feeling anxious and afraid, Wondring which ways the games's to be played. It's a promise made on an empty night only to be forgotten in the morning light. It's searching for something that cannot be found It comes within reach then falls to the ground its chasing rainbows, dreaming dreams, planning allsorts of fantastic schemes. It's wanting a listener whilst you talk a companion for that lonely walk then someone stops to say Hello! and fills you with an inner glow you feel so happy its absurd! now loneliness is just a word. Terri morrow Copy right.

Hands become still at the kitchen sink, the telegram boy has been seen Hearts start pounding, and fear ! in the street is keen. Dear god in your Mercy let him pass on his way dont let me read those words that say. "Regret to inform you"......... I could not endure the wrenching pain never to see my son again. Off he went with a backward glance to some muddy field in a part of France. I cant even pronounce it's name. To him, and his pals twas just a game! Where will he rest his head tonight? can he be brave , when he has to fight! The messenger boy has finished his round and glimmers of hope are to be found The street breaths again , and springs to life! As mothers, lovers and many a wife Weep tears of joy as they can say their loved one survived another day.

The woodpeckers daft He's got a mad laugh And he goes round banging his beak But as much as we mock He's a chip off the old block Cos' he's dad did the same last week copywright 2003

I felt brand new, where's l did feel askew and now l have a cold - achew!!!! Tried to picture ur neck, looks a rite wreck oh well what the heck!!! Finding smelly wellies is worse then dead rellies especially smelly wellies like mine Got to go to sleep Catch up with u peeps See u in the morning, before nine!!!! Jude (Be on the road about 8)

To all of the contributors to Poets Pot with thanks for making me really welcome...you just don't know... Brian. x If you need someone to talk to In the darkest hour of need Just go to GenesConnected and have a little read. They talk of recollections of days so long ago about old Charlie Farnsbarnes the miserable so and so. But if you're life is crumbling and your 'worth' is cut in half Just spend some time on the members board and have a bloody good laugh (c) Brian Damerell 2003

Here's one...not an original but I love it They told me the job just couldn't be done and I said to myself "I can do it!" And I tackled that job that 'couldn't be done'... ...and I couldn't do it. Anon Ah well...you can't win 'em all

For Brian... Brian popped in to have a chat. Members Board is for just that. Need some sympathy or cheer, Usually someone will be here. Just for talk or even mumble, Those folk will hardly ever grumble. Pop in and see what you can find, It may, and should, help you unwind! Elisabeth.