Poetry report poem October 2015

Poetry report poem October 2015

The monthly theme was rough, some people thought it tough

Others thought it was just too hard to try

I wrote a poem for Manya’s Mum, it sounded a little glum

both Manya and myself shared a little cry

Bob was ready for a good time, as he wrote about the shine

He was really cursing looking for some word

He had a little wine, whined about finding rhyme

Then complained that life is just too absurd

He wrote about his dying mate, who was about to meet his fate

As he was crawling slowly down the stairs

His wife had sealed his doom twas lookin pretty gloom

He soon found out much she really cares

There was an elderly couple at the table looking pretty able

As they shared one lonely dinner on a plate

It was not a dementia adventure as they only had one denture

And she thought his after bite was great

Joan was talking about a shine one of a truly different kind

Ross was there to guide her in the bush

They went out to Rubyvale and probably shared and ale

Joan could live there and doesn’t need a push

Joan spoke of a preacher whose truthfulness did reach her

While she sat and listened inside his church

He used his journey as an example his troubles had been ample

Never once did his faith leave him in the lurch

Graham really did deliver with the Man from Snowy River

He spoke it like it was he riding in between

He took us to that mountain place with a smile upon his face

Then he went and tried to cut it green

Jean is one who never fails and she travelled from New South Wales

To let us know what a great party you all missed

Her friends numbered eighty and the birthday cake was weighty

Jasmine and Steve making sure that she was kissed

The police caught a burglar Jean helped him down the gurgler

She felt sneaky just like an undercover spy

Jean helped to plant the seed that sent him on his crooked deed

And it started from her simple great big lie 

Young Harry Dales life was over in the Ballad of the Drover

Banjo called with a tear inside his voice

Rover and the young lad sank not too far from the muddy bank

While someone loved him and regrets his choice

Great poems you can recycle just like Mulga Bill and his Bi cycle

The story goin round near Dead Mans Creek

With a dash too much of pride braggin theres nuthin he couldn’t ride

He was left red faced from creek to cheek

Bob had four poems in his recital and I could list every title

Like ecstasy he shared inside another’s soul

An ode a verse and a perfect sonnet Bob was really on it

He knows his poetry with words he can control

Sue said do not worry for sometimes it’s too late to say sorry

You have to have faith within yourself

Sue knows what feels right like holding your babies every night

Love is the best thing for your health

Manya spoke of the love for her mother and for one other

Opening her heart with a tear filled eye

Then she really got jacked when her system it got hacked

She was left really wondering “oh why”?

Judi was quite rational, for her poetry has gone international

Quoting her words from heavenly hymns

She wrote about life and how not to get caught up in any strife

To love and not take flight on fancy whims

John only had the one poem having written it on his own

Waking from a coma just like a dream

All the Aussie animals he could see and he wanted to be free

With eyes closed the bush could be seen

Joyce’s poem was full of grandeur written by a true FN Qldr

The infamous cheeky ol’skinner Mr Mac

Joyce recited his poem for his knees had him laid up at home

He was bludging and reckons he’ll soon be back

Joyce said she doesn’t shine but she did once in her prime

It was playing the game that they call tennis

Then when she got older she got balls and a little bolder

With a golf club she became a flamin menace

She asked Mac do not forget me with your arms please protect me

Never back down nor act out like a whuus

Always be there to love and to place no other up above

Hold me close just like you’re an octopus

Tracey wrote on the beauty of the sorrow in the promise of tomorrow

Inspired by a friend who looked so sad

He had lost his wife and his heart was now down and in strife

She reminded him of the love that they had

Ted had a cheeky look as he self promoted his new book

Then he pondered on the lies we tell the youth

The little boy was crying to find Granddad he was trying

He was dead and they wouldn’t tell the truth

If your troubles are ninety plus nine, well you can still shine

If you shoulder in with all your might

When you’re scared and in the dark your fears you must park

Remember God is always on the side of right

Alan told the tale of human dramas with no mention of any lamas

How little things can take you back where you were born

A flat in a country town the sign in an old post office closing down

Hemingways “Baby shoes size two never worn”.

Kathy came back to the group havin a break from her travelling loop

She recited “Watt Luck” another poem by Mac

It contained no gloom as it was inspired by a doctor’s room

We were all pleased to have our Kathy back

Her second poem she did deliver kind words about her lovely river

A peaceful spot that at times is just so still

Smooth stones and wattle flowers she has idled there many hours

Her grandson loves it there and always will

Lyn liked the shine of the moon above the warmth inside love

The glow she used to get upon her shoes

The shinny diamond on her finger the memories do linger

Then in love sometimes you still can lose

Hold me close was the theme and she is living in a dream

The days ahead are filled with sunny weather

For she never thought she’d find a man so loving and so kind

Two wonderful years now they have been together

Roger was last to recite and he told us of his forty hour flight

never again does he wants to see ol Cornwall

Though she looks good in her PJ’s he misses pammy and her ways

He was so glad to be back here with us all

Roger stood up proud and bold as he told of men that dig for gold

And the terrible fate that fell Tom McKay

He saw the Min Min light across the desert on a lonely night

While the dingo’s howled where his body lay. 

Copyright Poetry in Paradise TM No. 1028534