I saw a shell upon the shore
And held it to my ear
Sea sounds trapped in muted roar
Waves shushing very near
That vacant home, abandoned now
Held secrets from the deep
I placed it back and sensed somehow
The mysteries it would keep
I saw a shell upon the shore
And held it to my ear
Sea sounds trapped in muted roar
Waves shushing very near
That vacant home, abandoned now
Held secrets from the deep
I placed it back and sensed somehow
The mysteries it would keep
There was once a blue planet called earth
Where for eras following its birth
Myriad species lived and thrived
But, thanks to humans, none survived
Including people, for what it’s worth
To pass some time upon the boat
Observe your fellows whilst afloat
It’s human nature; you’ll soon note
Most are friendly; some more remote
In conversation, there are those
Who heedlessly tread on others’ toes
Forthright opinions they’ll impose
Deep-rooted bigotry to expose
Sunbeds on deck are a common source
Of tensions, as you wend your course
Early risers show little remorse
Placing towels before breakfast; their claim to enforce
Seasoned cruisers will often enquire
Whilst subtly inspecting your evening attire
The pecking order is their only desire
They’ve sailed more often, it will transpire
But don’t despair of having fun
It’s a perfect way to get some sun
Each day a new port to hit and run
Ticking off destinations, one by one
And FOOD!, such food, you can’t resist
Meals can become why you exist
So exercise regularly; in this persist
Or remove that cruise from your bucket list
Run with the fastest and show them your heels
Or drive like the wind on your own set of wheels
Become champion at sport,with practised flair
Dress to the nines, so debonair
Invent a panacea and give it for free
Create new concord amongst all that you see
Live a life without blame, preserving this earth
Be happy and loving and know your own worth
Body; once lithe, now weary and weakening
Memories; once clear, now fossilised and fading
Faculties; once keen, now base and blunt
Senses; once sharp, now unreliable and uncertain
Voice; once resounding, now timorous and trembling
Gait; once certain, now wavering and wobbly
Hands; once steady, now capricious and clumsy
Friends; once constant, now flagging and fickle
House; once pristine, now dusty and damp
Garden; once welcoming, now disregarded and decayed
Future; once limitless, now finite and fixed
Dashing, chasing, rushing about
Mental gymnastics, crushing doubt
Grabbing a bite, snatching some zzzs
Too much to do to be at ease
Never noticing colourful flowers
Or the passing of daylight hours
Missing the trill of a single song-bird
Passing scenes with beauty blurred
There has to be another way
Finding some pleasure in each day
By taking time, beginning to slow
Patiently watching a small rock grow
If you are a person, who can see a job through
And not seek to boast, about that which you do
If friends mark you out, as one who shares
And strangers describe you, as someone who cares
If you keep your own counsel, know your own mind
And try to help others, not just your own kind
If you love somebody else, with all your heart
And cannot be tempted, when set far apart
If you are a constant, when others should be
And, knowing their weakness, still have pity
If put in harm’s way, you help others first
And put under pressure, cannot be coerced
If knowing your faults, you try to improve
And not expect others, their flaws to remove
If just some of these facets apply well to you
You are a great person, And one of the few
Sit patiently looking at a closed door
….willing it to open
Curl endearingly in front of an open fire
….daring it to spark
Look witheringly from its bowl to you
…..showing distain for your meagre offering
Scurry frantically from its litter tray
….denying responsibility for the smell
Lie contentedly in your lap ‘til your legs ache
….expecting you to stroke its head
Sleep soundly for most of the day
….allowing you to tidy its house
Hello tomorrow; I just can’t wait
To know what fortune lies on your date
Good would be great, but if bad is my fate
I’ll take what comes, just don’t be late.
Autumn years, red-amber hued
Slow passing hours, quiet thought
Gentle emotions, guilt imbued
Of things achieved, but others aught