Tuesday 30 April 2019

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.

Monday 29 April 2019

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.


Sunday 28 April 2019

My Hands by marge. 27 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 Land Train at the Seaside by marge. 26 of 30


One of the delights of the seaside
is the Land train, a delight for
Mums, dads, kids and dogs!
Grandma and Grandad too.


The trains are usually brightly coloured,
Driven by an elderly man, like everybody’s
grandad. Polite and helpful gives you
your ticket too.


Excited children board, deciding
where everyone will sit, can’t wait
for it to move so that they can wave.
The engine starts and Woops we’re off!


Everybody waves at trains, it is
part of the fun of being at the
Seaside. Well! We don’t have Land
Trains at home! Do we?


When we get to the end of the track,
Do we stay on or go straight back?
Do we get off and play on the beach?
Shall we get off and have ice cream?


The Land train takes us back again,
time to go and have our tea,
“Can we come again, Mum”
Can we dad, can we, can we, Please?

Friday 26 April 2019

Have you heard a Hurdy Gurdy Played. 25 of 30 April Poems


I had never heard one until
during our day at Pontefract
Castle a couple of Medieval
Musicians were playing some
very different type of music.

Drawn by the strange notes
coming from the Hurdy Gurdy.
An odd-looking instrument,
with airbag and drone pipes
similar to Scottish bagpipe,
it has small wooden keys.
Also, strings that are vibrated by
turning a crank handle.

Intrigued we sat and listened, the man's
wife was accompanying him on a whistle
while banging a deep sounding drum
and tapping on the bells hung on a stand.
tapping on the bells hung on a stand.  
A talented woman!
Their collective sound was magical.

When not playing, the man told us
about the Hurdy Gurdy, an ancient
instrument, his came from Germany.
the Hurdy Gurdy is known all over
Europe and North Africa.

In medieval England, it was known
as a Hurly Burly. Often played by
Blind beggars in places where
A lot of people could be found.

© Marjorie Lacy, April 2019.

Thursday 25 April 2019

The Mummers Play. by marge 24 of 30 April poems

The Mummers Play:                                           24 of 30 April Poems.
St. George and the Dragon.

We were at Pontefract Castle                
celebrating St. Georges Day,
Various entertainments were
telling the stories of St. George.
The Mummers got the biggest
audience, all excited about
seeing the Dragon.

This was a small group of Mummers
who needed help from the audience,
children eagerly became sheep or
village children. Some beefy men
also joined in to help the villagers
to kill the dragon who was eating
their sheep and smaller children.

The villagers tried throwing stones,
shouting and throwing water at the
dragon, but it was not afraid and kept
coming back each night. Then they
were told that St. George would be
riding through their village, they
sent some men to plead with St. George
to stay overnight and help them
kill the dragon.

The village men and beefy men from
the audience lay in wait for the
dragon coming for the baited sheep
left out for it. The dragon fell for
their trick, St. George and all the
men fell on the dragon, St. George
stabbed it with his sword, then           NOTE: In this version,
cut off its head and held it up.                         A woman was inside
                                                                        The dragon’s costume.
Everybody cheered, they need not                    Her roar was not very
fear the dragon again, they thanked                 loud.
St. George and he went on his way.

© Marjorie Lacy. April 2019.




St. George.by marge. 23 of 30 April Poems.



We tend to think, that St. George is “ours”.
Our Patron Saint, his flag, a red cross on
a white background is so familiar to us all.
Our Knights of the Garter use this emblem.

Do we know that half of the world's population
also, claim him to be their Patron Saint?
He is celebrated by Muslims, Christians and
Catholic religions. There are many stories of him.

It is known he was born in Cappadocia, which is
now in modern-day Turkey in AD270. He took part
in the Crusades, he died AD303 in Israel and made a Martyr.
There are many comparisons between St. George which
links him to the life of Christ, both died at age 33.

Both fought for good against evil, both lost their lives
in the most dreadful ways imaginable. We commemorate
both their lives for the good they did and the way they
were examples of how we should live our lives.


NOTE: Countries who celebrate St. Georges Day include
Canada, Croatia, Portugal, Cyprus, Greece, Georgia, Serbia, Bulgaria,
Rumania, Bosnia and Herzegovina, and
The Republic of Macedonia.

© Marjorie Lacy. April 2019.

Wednesday 24 April 2019

Tractors on Parade 22 of 30 April Poems.

Tractors on Parade.                   22 of 30 April Poems.

I saw it on a friend's Facebook
Post, that 500 tractors were
Passing through her Village,
It was too bad it wasn’t a day
I could go see them.
I felt disappointed.

The next day we were
Travelling to a St. Georges
Day event at Pontefract Castle.
Suddenly, there were tractors
Turning out of a junction,
Marshalls were controlling
Traffic, we were waved
Into the Parade.

I was thrilled, so many
Tractors, all sizes, all colours
Driven by men, women, teenagers.
It was so exciting, our little white
Car in among all farm vehicles..
People had come out to wave.
I waved back, but no one
Waved to our car.
It was not so exciting.

Eventually, tired of their
Slow pace and stop-start,
We turned off the route
To go along the back roads
Towards Pontefract Castle
For a lovely family event.

© Marjorie Lacy.

.