The Visitation
Bubbles
The Windmill
The Visitation I roused from a deep slumber when I herd the sound of old Big Ben Then heard a knock upon the door Just like a thousand times before I opened up as in a dream But there was no-one to be seen So staring into cold night air I nervously called out "Who's there?" Then the visitor who I couldn't see Spake forth in gentle tone to me "I'm both a stranger and a friend Who's come your way at Old Year's end You'll want to know just why I'm here I've come to bring you your New Year To herald in a brand new dawn To make you happy or forlorn A year to bring you peace and joy The sort you've dreamed of since a boy Or one to bring you much duress Be filled with tragedy and stress But perhaps a bit of everything The vagaries that chance can bring As time ekes out your life on earth Enjoy the good for all it's worth But in the dark stand tall and proud Don't spend the day with your head bowed Not stand aggrieved in angry curse There are plenty folk who'll have it worse So hold forth to the nitty-gritty Don't ever wallow in self-pity" His next words make me stand aghast He said "This year could be your last Our heavenly father may decide It's time that you with him abide But don't you sit around and mope for what I offer now is HOPE Time alone can tell what will befall Now I've many more on whom to call" Then the presence left to the sound of strings And the gentle beating of gossamer wings Copyright © 2009 Barry Gardner
Bubbles They've brought joy and contentment, excitement and glee It seems bubbles have been quite important to me At different times and in different places My existence has bubbled through various phases As a first recollection when still very young The bubbles with words in made comics such fun Billy Bunter and Korky and Desperate Dan I read all about them with my dear old Nan Then when still a small kid along with a chum I'd spend many an hour blowing bubbles with gum And I can't resist chocolate - I always have craved it - Way back then the bubbles made Aero my favourite We also made bubbles with tins of solution With never a thought about causing pollution We blew them with care then waved them goodbye Then watched on in wonder as they reached for the sky Next came Bubbles the dancer down in old Soho Where my Mum and my Dad told me I shouldn't go But I had already decided I should Mum thought that I wouldn't, but Dad knew that I would Then as a young man before settling down I'd often go out with the lads on the town After work, rest or play there was much to be said For the odd pint of beer with a nice bubbly head We now come to the most mundane mention so far I have to use bubbles when washing the car But bubbles and boredom are mixed with bravado When up on the ladder and cleaning a window Then on to the great dotcom bubble which burst The lucky ones got all their money out first But after it all I was largely unscathed And hung on to most of the nest-egg I'd saved This next verse brings the opportunity For metaphore (or is it simile?) 'Cos bubbly's how I feel when things go well But is they go wrong then it hurts me like hell Like the time I met up with the love of my life Who gave her consent to becoming my wife Effervesced and ecstatic I was about that Then when she left all my bubbles went flat In later life now, from a day sorely testing Under foam bubbles in the bath I'll be resting They hide my sad body, now decrepit and grey Which didn't even look good in its heyday We now come to bubbles of congratulation For myself or others or maybe the nation From wine, beer and spirits I'd gladly refrain To toast with a nice glass of bubby champagne But at any old time I've always found pleasure In the company of family and friends that I treasure Thinking the best things really are free, or nearly, As the water starts bubbling for a nive cup of tea Yet the bubbles that bring me the greatest joy And have caused me amusement since I was a boy The ones that still give me the heartiest laugh Are the ones that I make when I fart in the bath. Copyright © 2009 Barry Gardner
The Windmill On the rural landscape stands a tower With sails proudly reaching high A harness for God’s mighty power Recalling days now long gone by A monument for all to see To take us back to ‘used-to-be’ Where dusty men process the grain Hopper to stone to output bin While other staff the mill maintain To keep the workplace functioning The outputs packed in Hessian sacks They end their day with aching backs But with new technology explored And traditional methods superseded Old styles of life become ignored So the stately mill’s no longer needed In heritage now laid to rest Mere academic interest Now lovers lurk among the brambles While artists with their easels come And school kids out on nature rambles Or picnicking with Dad and Mum The windmill all of these surveys Enjoying its retirement days BUT… Does it sometimes like me shed a tear To know its time was yesteryear? Copyright © 2008 Barry Gardner