Coventry Poetry

You're right, there are very few thrushes left, I put the blame on squirrels, they have multiplied over the years, and they raid there nests stealing the eggs. Please come look at my garden asked widow knight masses of snowdrops patches of white I looked in great admiration I wished my lettuces flourished as the snowdrops do I wonder why these died out in the open yet those in the side bed seem all right. I shook my head,and said 'because they are in the Loo' you mean sheltered from the wind, 'Aye that I do' I wish I felt like the ones in the 'loo' I feel like the ones in the open since I lost my spouse You need sheltering lets go up to the house it's beginning to snow..

My garden sang to me today A song to gladden me Two months will pass ere spring The sun is shining on naked tree The vines are fast asleep A robin hops, not a peep A lone marigold does bend to me One feels the watchful eye There is no blackbird Not even a thrush An unusual song From an unusual Bush Love yer Kate

Lovely poem Kaga, I seen a Mistle Thrush singing its heart out beautiful in Longford Square last year.

A Mother's Christmas Yes it's Christmas, no need to tell you that, lots of parties going on and every one has on a silly hat, dressed like santa's helpers walking round the town some even look like the big man himself wearing a long red gown. pulling crackers drinking some wine every one letting their hair down and having a good time, office parties in full swing the manager is playing the fool he is getting a little drunk and trying to look real cool. Chirstmas shopping getting in the mood buying presents Christmas cards and eating too much food. It's all part of the laid down plan, shop till you drop eat and drink as much as you can. You make it home all weary and done in so you sit with your feet up and pour yourself a whisky or Gin, thank goodness for that the shopping is out of the way now we can prepare for Christmas Day, Rest by the fire and feel all comfy and warm listen to the wind blow, we could be in for a storm The house is warm from the feeling of good cheer it's a feeling that only comes at this time of year, the warmth of the fire only warms your skin the real warmth comes from deep within Just a few things left to do before the evening is complete, finish decorating the Christmas tree it looks a real treat, Dressing the tree helped by the kids more of an hinderance but that's how it is,! add some fairy lights and some fake snow, the room now takes on a kinda glow. The Children hang their stocking on the wall in the hope that old Saint nick will call, they prey that throughout the year they have done things right and hope he will visit them on this cold Christmas night The children awake at about 5 in the morning, they are full of fun and you can't stop yawning, shouting with joy at the sight of all the presents they see, what a wonderful day it's going to be . The kids run round like never before, but it all goes quiet when there's a knock at the door, "who can that be"? The kids begin to shout, "well open it and you will soon find out". It's the kid next door "come to join in the fun", " look what I got" he shouts, " it's a Roy Rogers Gun". Having got breakfast out of the way we can now get on with the rest of the day always something to do never seems to be ending, you no sooner finish one job and then theirs another one pending. I would hate to be alone on this Christmas Day so that is why I should not moan, it's such a small price to pay Every body is having fun it's such a happy day, but now it's time to get the turkey out, the toys must go away, the Christmas feast is almost set everyone must take a seat put on your silly hats its time to calve the meat. Your plate is full to overflow and the gravy is all over the place, can't wait to get stuck in, but first we must say Grace. What a dinner , what a spread, if the kids were not here we would be off to bed but I guess the arm chair will have to do, too much dinner and too much booze just close your eyes and have a well earned snooze. The kids wrap up warm and go out to play showing off their new toys they had that day, the snow is crisp and every where is white , it sure is a loverly site, friends and neighbours pop by to share our Christmas Day, it's not long before the games come out but we can't decide what to play? The washing up is done and all food is cleared away then the table is laid ready for Boxing Day, The kids are off to bed no bedtime story tonight as soon they hit the pillow they are out like a light. Some people say that a woman's work is never done well I can confirm that's true, from what I have observed they not only work hard at Christmas they work hard all year through. The man puts the bread on the table that is the traditional way the mother never stops working and works a twelve hour day. This little poem is dedicated to all Mothers and my Mum. Poem by Colin Walton 17th December 2014

Well done R.Kid We can see you have your Christmas mapped out and it sounds wonderful. Thank you for your Christmas dedication on behalf of all the Mums in the world xx O

Thanks Dreamtime I am glad you liked it. Only one thing to say now, "have a very happy Christmas and new year to all the Forum members". It's been a real treat reading the various letters throughout the year. thank you. Colin.

Thoroughly enjoyed your ode Colin just like years ago, one thing though woman work 24 hrs. I'm also bringing back the old way on the 6th of January men have to take the decorations down and clean up, while the lady of the house has a day off

Thanks Morgana for your comments all taken on board. Have to say though I have never heard of the 6th Jan rule? But it does sound like a good idea. You ladies do work hard. Merry Christmas to you and yours. Colin xx

It's Irish that's why Radford Kid and I know Coventry have a lot of people here that stem from Ireland.

What a lovely idea morgana, I've never heard of it before, but think I'll declare the 6th January as a day of rest for me in our house.

Tricia

When weary of day's turmoil This earthly life doth bring I wend my way to garden plot To hear the blackbird sing I love to stroll among my vines When morning sun gets high And by some ancient yew tree stand And think of days gone by.

On the "Have a Laugh" thread, Wearethemods and Midland Red alerted us to the sad news that "the inventor of predictive text has just died" Predictive Text Blues I have a problem... I'm NOT alone... "Predictive Text" on my mobile phone. I tried it once... it made no sense. I vowed that I'd not use it thence. I watched the News... they've used it too. And, Oh! The shame that then ensues! Predictive text works fine for some, But when it's wrong it's really dumb. I heard one night the newsman say There'd been "a violent... souffl

Hi Dreamtime - I guess I'm just a born-again luddite with the bad luck to be born into the Internet age. Or.......................maybe ...............................Nah - surely not................. ........................................................Maybe............... .........................................................................I can't believe it!!!!............ ..................................................................................................Maybe......................... ....................................................................................................................I'm just getting old at last!