Where did my day go to? By marge.

I wake up in the morning

Knowing what to do during the day.

I get up, dressed, set the washing machine going.

When breakfasted, I clean my teeth.

Check I look normal.

I check my emails, facebook,

Then reply to all the messages.

Then, I write my daily poem and

Download it to Wordpress and Blogger.

Before I know it, it is lunchtime,

No housework done, nothing useful done.

We must have lunch, nothing exciting

Hiding in the fridge, sandwiches again?

I sit to drink a coffee, check emails,

Look at facebook, reply to messages.

By now, it is mid afternoon, I remember

I should have hung washing out on the line.

Then I spy, weeds in the garden, I begin

My daily battle with the weeds, which they win.

Weeds can grow quicker than I can remove them.

Oh! Its time I should be cooking an evening meal.

Then it is T.V., time, in my chair, feet up

What will we watch tonight?

Where did my day go to?

©  Marjorie Lacy, May 2019.

I Choose to Change, or Not? By marge.

I am fed up with my present self

The feeling that I am left on the shelf.

Sitting in my chair, day by day.

Reading, dozing my life away.

How do I get the energy back?

My brain is mushing, going blank.

Why am I not going walking?

Walking until my feet are hurting.

I could go out in the car,

Go a ride on a bus or train? Nah!

Why I am I not out gardening?

Why are my passions, leaving?

What about the Cinema? No.

I would rather watch T.V. So,

I will stay in my chair,

Where I can remember where I went,

what I did and with who, money spent.

© Marjorie Lacy May 2019.

How Please can I Be? 10th May 2019 by marge.

How pleased can I be?

Today we have been told

THAT….

Simon Armitage has been

Announced as Poet Laureate.

How pleased can I be?

THAT….

A Yorkshireman has been given

This huge honour…..

An honorary title,

No pay goes with it

BUT the great benefit of

Being famous for his POETRY.

I have not met him

BUT would like to,

He is impressive as a

Big, Bluff Yorkshireman

You can hear the Millstone Grit

In his voice, see it in his face.

How pleased can I be?

Today we have been told

THAT….

Simon Armitage has been

Announced as Poet Laureate.

©  Marjorie Lacy.

Looking Forward to May 1st 2019 by marge. 30 of 30 Poems.

1st of May is a time of celebration

It takes many forms, depending on

where you live. Some towns have

Parades with May Queens, some

have Morris Dancing, some villages

have their Maypole with children dancing.

Other towns and villages have street

Parades with Bands playing and

Traditional Plays. With street parties

people sharing fun, food and drink

with excitable children and dogs.

Simple community events.

Churches and other organisations

have open events to build community

cohesion, introducing persons to person.

Mix and mingle get together with singing

and dancing. Some influential person will

get up and speak.

Farming communities this is a time of fertility,

time for planting. The new birth of lambs and cows.

A time of hard work, often a profitable time

and hope for the future. A time to drink beer

While planning for the coming months.

A time for regeneration as the trees come into

leaf. A Young man's fancy turns to love.

The birds are also busy with eggs and chicks.

Opportunist birds and animals looking for the food

of natural selection.

We are closer at this time of year to our pagan

past. More superstitious, more in touch with

the moon and stars, the air around us. The soil

beneath us. The water of rivers and Seas, all

Important factors to our human life.

My Hands by marge. 29 of 30 April Poems.

When I was young,

I was proud of my hands,

they were small and dainty.

As I got older I could

embellish them with bright

coloured nail varnish,

Later still, as part of my work,

I learnt manicure and also

taught it, my hands were

immaculate then.

Other people would envy

them, hiding their own bitten

nails behind their backs,

asking for help.

Now, in old age I have arthritic

hands that are no longer pretty.

A road map of blue veins dominate,

red lumps and bumps of knuckles.

It is difficult now to take proper care,

of my hands, cutting and shaping is hard.

I don’t cut my nails until I absolutely have to.

It is me that hides my hands in gloves.

Unwilling for people to see how ugly

my once small and dainty hands have

become. I am tired, I am weary,

I am old

©  Marjorie Lacy.

The Difference between Mist and Fog by marge. 28 of 30 April Poems.

I drove up to the hill out of my village,

the further up I got, the thicker the mist.

I turned left, and bumped into the fog!

The fields of Oil Seed Rape had looked

almost romantic in the mist!

Now, had disappeared, hidden by fog.

As I reached the top of the hill, no fog!

The green Farmers fields were there

his private airfield was still there.

Suddenly, I was in the misty rain, with

windscreen wipers flip, flopping.

It was more like autumn weather.

What is wrong with our weather?

“They” talk about Climate Change

all the time, are we really experiencing it?

Why can’t Spring be Spring?

It was when I was a child, we knew

Where we were with the weather then….

©  Marjorie Lacy.