Thursday, January 19, 2012




We are a lucky generation.
I say that without hesitation.
My grandmother, in the hat,
Was only seventy, if that,
When someone took this family shot
(It was me as like as not.
I've always had a reputation
For documenting a situation.)
Left and right are Dad and Mum,
Unmarked by all the years to come.
'Grandma' and I weren't at all close;
She found me much too verbose.
Not only that but my sister, Mollee,
Was always sweet and always jolly,
Whereas I had a waspish tongue,
Even when I was very young.
Forget about that; what I want to say
Is 'Old ladies were old in Grandma's day'.
Look at her dress compared with my Mothers! 
Old lady dresses weren't like others.
They had to be dark with a touch of lace,
Meant to soften a wrinkly face.
And she was a drudge; all the household chores
Fell to the lot of  'her indoors.'
The odd little afternoon of whist
Was the only thing on her hobby list.
And my mother, with a bit of luck,
Might buy her one drink at the 'Dog and Duck'.
Was it any wonder, looking ahead,
That I viewed old age with dread?
I am now older than she was then;
And having more fun than I don't know when!
'Count your blessings'? Indeed I do.
And so, my friends, I hope, do you.

A poem for children

The Queen of the Bats in her dark, dark tower,
Was watching the moon at the midnight hour.
She let out a shriek that pierced the night...
'That wretched moon is far too bright!'
The moon just smiled in its appointed place,
With a look of benevolence on its face.
'Switch off the moon!' she screamed again
'The night is the Queen of the Bat's domain!'
But still the moon sailed by on on high,
Bringing its light to the midnight sky.
'Though you may shine as white as milk,
I'll capture you in my gown of silk!'
So saying, she sprang from the parapet,
With her bat-like wings as black as jet.
She aimed for the moon with all her might,
Swooping up to a dangerous height.
Up, up she went, still shouting out
'I'm coming, old moon, to put you out!'
But, just as she reached the stratosphere,
A cloud, that had just been hovering near,
Covered the moon! It was very weird........
The great big moon quite disappeared!
'I've won! I've won!' cried the wicked Queen;
'The moon will nevermore be seen!
All nights from now on with be black as pitch!
It all went off without a hitch!'
She flew back home feeling mightily glad
Because of the great success she'd had.
But her satisfaction was ended soon!
On the following evening............
There was the moon!


Annie Jeffries said...

I just adore your clever rhyme. It so perfectly compliments the photo you have shared with us. And, like you, I am having more fun now than I have had since I was a kid. I love maturity. I hate to even think "old age". An old woman is nothing more than an antique little girl. I say PLAY ON!!

Valerie said...

Hi Brenda - am perhaps a little "late" in catching up with this post of yours via sepia scenes. It's a great poem on contrasts and am grateful to include myself in the happy "Beyond Youth" group! Thanks for sharing and "rock on"!