Sunday, July 8, 2012


suggests we treat a serious subject light-heartedly


Little, lost and lonely,
Misplaced down the years;
All those frantic searchings,
All those wasted tears.
Gretchen, my doll, the one with plaits,
Left on a park-bench;
Finding that I'd lost her 
Was a really awful wrench.
But some lost things are laughing;
They are not lonely at all.
They're hiding, just to tease us,
Curled up in a giggling ball.
My purse has a nasty habit
Of being really mean,
Hiding in some outlandish place
Where it knows it wont be seen.
'This' I say 'Is ridiculous!'
As I turn things up-side-down,
Thinking out-loud as I'm searching
And wearing a heavy frown.
Spectacles, also, are cheeky,
Hiding themselves away;
Disguising themselves as my husband's
In a very clever way.
Yes, there are 'the lost and lonely'
And we bemoan their fate.
But the others, the 'lost and laughing',
Are things we tend to hate!
They seem almost human,
Their behaviour is so bad.
'Where are you, you naughty children?
You wait till I tell your Dad!'


The sun floats palely in the sky
The breeze is brisk and cool.
This picture from  last summer
Makes me positively drool!
Beside his golden ship of dreams
The lone lake-watcher views
The water stretched before him.....
As he readies for a cruise;
A cruise to far horizons
That lie across the way.
I wish that it were summer now!
It's wintry today.

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