Leafy Library

SHADOW SHOT


LEAFY LIBRARY

When first I ventured on a cruise

I felt some trepidation

Would it all be 'jolly-hockey-sticks'

With no time for contemplation?

Would I be required to join

In ghastly conviviality,

Full of wine and women and song

And too much joviality?

Would I be the odd one out

When it came to joining-in?

Would I be forced to enter games

Which I could never win?

Would someone grab me and throw me in

The deep end of the pool?

Would I be persona non grata 

If I didn't play the fool?

I recalled the English holiday camps

Of the country of my youth!

All that 'Wakey wakey! Rise and shine!'

Seemed desperately uncouth!

But I need not have worried;

See the gentle view above;

A corner of the Library

Which I really came to love.

I went there to write poetry

Or to read a magazine,

While idly gazing at the sea

And the pleasantly passing scene.

In case you think I'm a spoilsport

I really did have fun,

Mostly meeting new people

And chatting to everyone.

I even tried Line Dancing

And Trivia Games as well,

Though not too hot at either one

I enjoyed them, truth to tell.

But listening to a Guitarist

In pleasant company,

And visits to the Library,

Were the greatest things for me.

*

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

FORGOTTEN STREET

It may not look neglected as it sports its Springtime finery. 
It may not look depressing as the shoppers stroll around.
But, even so, in Hunter Street, they have to face the changing times;
Most shoppers have gone elsewhere; these days very few are found.
They've rushed off to the Shopping Centres, springing up on every hand;
Every suburb has, it seems, a shopping monument.
One by one , the shops have closed, yes, even the Emporiums,
Folk have moved to other lures where money can be spent.
Yet friends, who shopped in Hunter Street, say, maybe fifty years ago,
Remember such a vibrant place, the centre of the town!
They recall the weekend jaunt when people  dressed in finery
And went out into Hunter Street to wander up and down.
Now the largest store is moving; it will leave a great big, gaping hole,
And the building may lie derelict, an eyesore possibly.
I suppose it doesn't matter much; life has a way of moving on.
It is just a minor sorrow; just a little tragedy.
*