Taking Control (full version)


We’ll ignore them in the waiting room
And resist them on the bus
Intrusive calls and endless texts
Won’t be the boss of us

Social media is so compelling
But is this what’s to blame
If mums aren’t ‘there’ for children
And dads ignore them just the same

The mobile can be a lifeline
For work, a ‘must have’ tool
But it can take control of you
Moderation should be the rule

I’ve taught my phone a lesson;
That I’m the one in charge
YOU too can do it easily;
By letting yours discharge


img_2896Success is measured in different ways

And much has changed, since former days

A good education, and steady work

Were things held dear, if you didn’t shirk


Some of the best could achieve in sport

Football or tennis, or some such sort

But crazy money wasn’t part of the story

For those looking there, for fame or glory


Things have changed, and many believe

You needn’t struggle, if you want to achieve

TV and music, sell young a new dream

All can have riches, it now would seem

Remember When

2000-01-01-00h01m06Every wireless needed a wire

Tin bath in front of a nice coal fire

Always fresh air in the outside loo

Banished the smell when you had a poo


Talking to friends meant knocking on their door

Cold lino on the living room floor

Sharing a bed with a brother or sister

All grown-ups were called Mrs or Mr


Free dinners for the poor at school

Nobody called anything ‘cool’

Being told who’s top of the class

Shilling in the meter for electric and gas


Saturday morning at the local flicks

Warming the bed with heated bricks

Signposts on roads were actually necessary

Contraception was risky; a condom or pessary


Milk and letters were delivered each morn

By people who got up well before dawn

No spitting allowed on the top of the bus

Eating greens must be done without any fuss


Everyone had to amuse themselves

Best done with a book from the library shelves

Ink pens were dipped in a dark blue pot

Each page could be ruined by a single blot


Police and kettles all had whistles

Shaving and shoe brushes with real bristles

Dust bins were collected and never put out

Mess about and you got a clout!

Grown Old


Look at my wrinkled hand

It wasn’t like that before

Why are my knees hurting so

When I get up to answer the door


Why do I feel so tired these days

I’ll be better when I’ve had a nap

Turn on the telly, if you please

But I bet it’s all going to be crap


What day is this and who are you

I don’t recognise anyone now

Childhood memories are crystal clear

But yesterday’s not there anyhow.