General Chat

No Tomorrow No past, only present, no future. No yesterday, only today, no tomorrow In my life full of sorrow, Living in cardboard city. Do you pity me as you walk by? Avoid my eye. As you drop some change into my hat, Without a glance this way or that? Insurance paid. Do you feel better scurrying off Around the corner you will scoff At the likes of me. Are we different or are we just the same? No-ones to blame For the life I lead but you and me. Do you agree? Hurry for the shelter of your world. Don’t look back. ‘I’m alright Jack’ You think with no further thought for me. You leave me all alone Then you go home to commuter land, To your world without pity, As I lie in my cardboard home. Nonentity. © DJP 2004

Can it be true...the pot is full? Without it life will be quite dull we can't move it far in case it slops And words of wisdom cannot drops out of the pot and onto the floor or we'll all have to write a good deal more!

You would be five in four days time I wish I had taken the chance to hold you And to say that you were mine I wanted to watch you grow And guide you in your steps And I also wanted to know What you would be in years to come I'll never forget the day It still haunts me in every way You would have been my second born And even now I still mourn I still remember those most beautiful eyes And that little mop of hair I even kept the blanket That you had to wear Ive told your dad now But that still doesnt ease the pain I will go and buy your little rose And cry for you again Hope you dont mind me adding this Tracy

AWAY FROM HOME How did I ever leave England, the land that was there from my start, from the rainscented days of my childhood to the summers that captured my heart? I was so young and unknowing when I saw her recede from the air, my life stretched before me unending, and my England would always be there. I couldnt have dreamed how I'd miss her, how I'd dream of her temerate clime, for the family and friends that I left there, for a simpler and more tranquil time. How the call of the Islands is magic! it haunts every daytime and night, from the mountains and mist laden valleys, to the villages tucked out of sight. So give me, oh give me my England, when my feet are to tired to go on, and I'll wear all her daisies in my bonny hair long after the greyness has gone! Give me, oh give me my England, I will sing her forever in song. For its there I was born and its there I'll return, to the land where I truly belong!

A Genealogist Like a tree our roots run deep, and travel in all directions. Sometimes our only lead is someone's recollections. Genealogy takes much time and we often loose the trail. We change directions, start again and we know that we'll prevail. The further back we search some records don't exist. A few have been destroyed while other have been missed. Yes the make up of our tree is deep rooted in history. Along with all it's unknowns it's just one big mystery. And the harder clues become more determined we seem to be. For an avid genealogist is one tough and loyal devotee. author unknown Lucia

THE PLEASURES OF FRIENDSHIP The pleasures of friendship are exquisite, How pleasant to go to a friend on a visit! I go to my friend, we walk on the grass, And the hours and moments like minutes pass. Stevie Smith

DELICIOUS BABIES Because of spring there are babies everywhere, sweet or sulky, irascible or full of the milk of human kindness. Yum, yum! Delicious babies! Babies with the soft skins of babies, cheeks of such tit-bit pinkness, tickle-able babies, tasty babies, mouth-watering babies. The pads of their hands! The rounds of their knees! Their good smells of bathtime and new clothes and gobbled rusks! Even their discarded nappies are worthy of them, reveal their powers. Legions and hosts of babies! Babies bold as lions, sighing babies, tricksy babies, omniscient babies, babies using a plain language of reasonable demands and courteous acceptance. Others have the habit of loud contradiction, can empty a railway carriage (though their displeasing howls cheer up childless women). Look at this baby, sitting bolt upright in his buggy! Consider his lofty unsmiling acknowledgement of our adulation. Look at the elfin golfer's hat flattering his fluffy hair! Look next at this very smallest of babies tightly wrapped in a foppery of blankets. In his high promenading pram he sleeps sumptuously, only a nose, his father's, a white bonnet and a wink of eyelid showing. All babies are manic-serene, all babies are mine, all babies are edible, the boys taste best. I feed on them, nectareous are my babies, manna, confiture, my sweet groceries. I smack my lips, deep in my belly the egg ripens, makes the windows shake, another ovum-quake moves earth, sky and me... Bring me more babies! Let me have them for breakfast, lunch and tea! Let me feast, let my honey-banquet of babies go on forever, fresh deliveries night and day! Penelope Shuttle

The cod fish lays 10,000 eggs; the humble hen lays one, But the cod fish does not cackle, to tell you what she's done. And so we scorn the cod fish, while the humble hen we prize, Which indicates to you and me, it pays to advertise.

I HAVE A FEW WORDS OF WISDOM The seven most important words: How good it is to have friends. The six most important words: I admit, I made a mistake. The five most important words: You did a good job. The four most important words: What is your opinion. The three most important words: If you please. The two most important words: Thank you. The least important word: " I "

"Start with earliest reply" you say, Whatever will I do? I only have "Start with Latest Reply, So will finish there, in lieu

WHAT IS A MOTHER? By Jean Leedale Knight. A mother is a combination, Punching bag and feeding station. In one short day she can be thanked, Scowled at, hugged and verbally spanked. She walks more miles per average day, Than mailmen (getting better pay). Strong hands untie a stubborn knot, Then softly stroke a head that's hot. Her eyes though stern at naughty ways, Light up expressing well-earned praise. Ears that are deaf to needless wails, Catch all of eager happy tales. Her heart can equally embrace, A small stray pup, the human race. The chin that nuzzles baby's cheek, Must also have a stubborn streak, Take many a knock-but also this; A sudden sticky loving kiss.

Roots I’m at the beginning of a journey On a path to I do not know where I went in search of the history And the present and future were there Like a missing piece of the puzzle And a story yet to be told One treasured memory shared Saw the history before me unfold With the past no longer behind me And the future still yet to arrive I shall stand right here in the present And be thankful you’re now in my life.

These days on the roads I'm afraid for my neck. Cars boring and thrusting, can't wait fo a sec. Courtesy gone, savagery rife Cutting short expectation of life. The answer is clear - though my chances are rank - Will anyone swap my old Ford for a tank?

Roots I’m at the beginning of a journey On a path to I do not know where I went in search of the history And the present and future were there Like a missing piece of the puzzle And a story yet to be told One treasured memory shared Saw the history before me unfold With the past no longer behind me And the future still yet to arrive I shall stand right here in the present And be thankful you’re now in my life. by Sharon E Ruderham

I am a comfort-loving man And always go upon the plan Of keeping warm (that's if I can) So I for one do not propose To go on outings if it snows (or even if a cold wind blows) Why leave the fire for sleet and rain ? All that numbness - then the pain As finger freeze then thaw again. In fact, I'm old enough to find Discomfort of most any kind Is very little to my mind And anyone who wants my share Of autumn chills and winter air May hog the lot for all I care. Len

Love is ... Love is feeling cold in the back of vans Love is a fanclub with only two fans Love is walking holding paintstained hands Love is Love is fish and chips on winter nights Love is blankets full of strange delights Love is when you don't put out the light Love is Love is the presents in Christmas shops Love is when you're feeling Top of the Pops Love is what happens when the music stops Love is Love is white panties lying all forlorn Love is a pink nightdress still slightly warm Love is when you have to leave at dawn Love is Love is you and love is me Love is a prison and love is free Love's what's there when you're away from me Love is ... Adrian Henri

A red, red rose O my luve's like a red, red rose That's newly sprung in June; O my luve's like the melodie That's sweetly played in tune. As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in luve am I; And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry. Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi' the sun: O I will love thee still, my dear, While the sands o' life shall run. And fare thee weel, my only luve, And fare thee weel awhile! And I will come again, my luve, Though it were ten thousand mile. by She's mate Mr Burns ...

hee hee hee A Word to Husbands To keep your marriage brimming, With love in the loving cup, Whenever you're wrong, admit it; Whenever you're right, shut up. Ogden Nash (what a clever chap!)

Ode to St Valentine Hard is the frost, as cold as fate My dearest is gone, alone I wait. My loved one's away, carried afar By a rotten swine in a brand-new car.

SPELL CHEQUER I have a spelling chequer It came with my pea sea It plainly marks four my revue Miss steaks eye cannot sea Each thyme eye have struck the quays I weight four it two say If wot I rote is wrong or rite It shows me strait aweigh As soon as a mist ache is maid It nose bee fore two late And eye can put the error rite Yes, eye shall find it grate I've run this poem threw it I'm shore yore pleased to no Its letter perfect in its weigh My chequer tolled me sew I wish I hadn't started, Derek in France