Sunday Muse # 95

you've aged
so have i
it's been a long time
since i could fit into a red riding hood outfit

i never wore red again after that
youve lost your teeth i see
not scary at all to little girls anymore
bugger off before i belt you
with my rolled up newspaper

Heeding Haiku With Chevrefeuille

the tulips are out
it's still winter in holland
nature is confused

Wednesday Scribblings # 7

Whilst I'm happy for you and those who are able to take your advice sadly we don't all have that advantage.
I would dearly love to be one of those people you're advising. I'm now retired but my husband of 40 years has dementia, amongst other disabilities. Instead of being a wife I'm now a full time carer for him. I would love to have some "me" time, but there isn't a minute in the day or night that I can call my own. If I did have that time I would sleep! Glorious sleep, so often taken for granted, is now a case of a couple of hours at the most before I need to be up again in the night with him. With no children and no other near relatives I have no other help. Before anyone mentions social services and "support" etc I can assure you I've tried, there isn't anything, mostly because my husband can't abide anybody else coming into the house and won't go anywhere for respite.
Enjoy your time when you can, for those of you who have a husband/wife/partner things can change in an instant, making "me" time something only to be envied and dreamed about.

17 February 2020 at 09:28

The above was a response by Pamela  to Weaver of Grass blogspot. Post Monday

A Tribute To Pamela  And All The Carers 

these selfless angels

unrecognised

unappreciated

the silent sufferers

without a voice

(and there are a lot of them )

devoted to their loved ones

keeping them safe

out of what can only be described as
inhuman institutions
are

saving self serving governments
and the community millions of dollars

carers
may not  evoke the same sympathy
as our  cute injured  koala bears
but they still need  our help
our kindness

our recognition
our respect
our gratitude
our admiration
our thanks

Weekly Scribblings # 6 - Poets United

marching to the beat
of a different drum
out of step
with the world
one wonders
what is the point
of being here
until the first sip
of an icy cold
chocolate milk shake

Weekly Scribblings # 5 - Poets United

buried in fragrance
a mouthful of petals
floral fantasy

Rapunzel

it wasn't the first time
the crow had dropped by
with a key for rapunzel

wary of  witches
crows bearing gifts
manicured nails
helping hands
locked doors

she preferred
to nap on the road
from time to time
swathed in sky blue
protected by a pair of spiky heels

besides
since her braids were chopped off
the ladder was a better option
if she felt the need for a royal visitor


 The Sunday Muse # 93
Art Photography by Ben Heine

Sunday's Whirligig 251

THIS WEEK'S WORDS come from "Sonnet XLIII" by Edna St. Vincent Millay: come, sang, summer, lovely birds, vanished, tonight, tap, lads, lips, where, why

 

the lovely birds have vanished

sang their last song

in the summer of fire and pestilence

 

come what may 

tonight the lads celebrate brexit

plenty of ale on tap 

why are some pursing their lips 

ah yes- remainers

where to now