Come tomorrow, come quick
Bringing a vacuum to be filled
Minds open to new possibilities
Which today had denied us
Page turned to a clean sheet
Past mistakes put aside
Wiped, prejudices born of experience
Letting anything be possible
Come tomorrow, come quick
Bringing a vacuum to be filled
Minds open to new possibilities
Which today had denied us
Page turned to a clean sheet
Past mistakes put aside
Wiped, prejudices born of experience
Letting anything be possible
Joyfully, toward home
Deliberately, away from here
Boldly, into the unknown
Jauntily, finding a rhythm
Silently, measuring the air
Quickly, gaining pace
Sagely, holding your counsel
Intentionally, keeping guard
Knowingly, watching the path
Safely, reaching your destination
I’ve reached that point, where all that matters
Is a warm and sunny day
Too often does cold, take bitter hold
And gnaw at my bones like decay
When the sun shines, there is some release
From the prison that is my home
I then struggle out, without a clout
With freedom, at last, to roam
On winter days, so short and cold
The four walls close in as a vice
Listening aghast, to the weather forecast
Promising snow and ice
Bed is sanctuary, where shivers subside
Though my nose asks for cover too
Like Oates to Scott, I know I’m facing my lot
When I briefly pop out to the loo
If this land goes to hell, in the proverbial handcart
For the young, I’d feel sorrow in large measure
It isn’t all sad; there’ll be one thing not bad
The heat I’ll enjoy with great pleasure
Time fades the clarity of young sight
Form and colours, once clear and bright
Now cloudy shapes through opaque lenses
Only real through different senses
But there is yet a way to see
Unlocking memories, like a key
Those who look within the mind
Can access images of every kind
For age improves the inner eye
Which knows the beauty of days gone by
Recalling scenes of timeless splendour
Precious moments to engender
Sun kissed seas of sapphire blues
Northern lights’ ephemeral hues
Distant horizons glowing red
Thunderous storm-skies shaded lead
Mists rising in dawn’s early light
Silver-rimmed clouds scudding in flight
Diamond sparkling rainbow dew
Dappled rays shaded canopies through
Countless twinkling stars above
A glint in the eyes of one you love
Shimmering heat haze under the sun
A smile on the lips of anyone
Untold volumes on library shelves
Struggle to give understanding
Yet 280 characters by themselves
Can be more commanding
A caller rang the doorbell
Straight way my heartbeat skipped
Who can this be a-ringing
With no visitors on the script
The house is so untidy
I haven’t combed my hair
Fish smells linger from the kitchen
The timing’s so unfair
No chance to try addressing
The mad jumble of concerns
Again the bell rings threatening
To open my can of worms
A moment’s hesitation
Safe this side of the door
Jumping with surprise as
A note flutters to the floor
Then footsteps gate-ward tread
As I guiltily scan the card
‘We tried to deliver a parcel today
You must collect it from our yard’
Dappled conversations
Confusing to the ear
Brightly tinkling chatter
Dull, no longer clear
Silent slippery sentences
Using lips to lend a clue
Shattered to staccato
Once they’re not in view
Sorry, I didn’t catch that
Say it once more, please
I’m deaf not daft, but sadly
Words are like Swiss cheese
Despite the fuss on the national news
Last week’s earthquake brought hardly a bruise
Barely enough to make walls shake
But ‘quakes elsewhere, leave deaths in their wake
Classed as ‘light’; Richter 4.4
Even more slight than in ’84
When we swept up the kids and ran outside
If the earth moves, there’s nowhere to hide
Now, it seems, we’ve another ‘grave’ threat
The ‘beast from the east’, a new cause to fret
A Siberian blast, bringing snow and ice
At -5C, the Beeb says it won’t be nice
But some can recall the freeze of ’82
When staying outdoors wasn’t good for you
At -26C, that really was cold
It killed by degrees, especially the old.
It’s hard to be that perfect dad
Who doesn’t drive his children mad
Maybe some faults most dads share
Pointed out, becoming clear
Gone past the need to care so much
For children’s welfare, health and such
Guiding in the social mores
Without setting many chores
Feeding and clothing without concern
That they give something in return
Plying with love, support and care
Showing them it’s OK to dare
Providing every chance to see
The very best that they might be
Become the adult you are not
We try to give it our best shot
But, the final test of fatherhood;
Something seldom understood
When adult, can each child respect
The norm is; dads are seldom perfect.
If opinion is divided,
Consensus not in sight.
Head and heart may disagree,
But both cannot be right
Bring to bear one measure;
The final acid test.
Belief may be convincing,
But evidence is best.