1056 - For the young

It’s one-thirty a.m. Most are asleep
Apart from rust, of course, and you and me
Not far to go till rest; I hope I’ll keep
Asleep long enough so I’ve energy
For yet another working week. But we
Who have our jobs and moan, forget those who
Are young and struggling for equality
In today’s marketplace where jobs are few
Even if qualified. Seems there’s a queue
For anything worthwhile, and the scrap heap
Is where our youngsters are condemned quickly
What will this country be like in a few
More years of this relentless profit creep
Once again, the bosses own you and me
Sun 26 July 2009

250 - Of thousand steps I've now taken quarter

Of thousand steps I’ve now taken quarter,
Like youth coming of age with laughing beard,
Like truth from president to reporter:
Of cows and bullshit may my steps be cleared.
Like spring’s beginning when March first appeared,
Of budding beauty green and wet with dew,
Of love poetry, eyes of mist uncleared:
Like singing of the first dark-winged cuckoo.
Of steps untaken, peaks with unseen view,
Like son’s career or husband of daughter,
Like deterioration to be feared:
Of steps mistaken, please let there be few.
Likely I’ll find Sophia: I’ve sought her
Often, her golden curls to heart endeared.
Sat 12 May 2007

140 - The job of parent is just that - a job

The job of parent is just that - a job
Of course you can still have plenty of fun,
Like any job, but they can make you sob
With tiredness and anger when day’s done.
It’s important that you don’t cross the line
And blur the boundaries between parent and
Friend. You can’t be both. You must assign
The correct roles, and make them understand
That you are like a teacher of values
And skills; your child’s a pupil till eighteen
And beyond. You must give them all the clues
They need to solve the puzzles that you’ve seen.
They may resist, but your experience
Should be enough to help them jump each fence.
Mon 22 Jan 2007

129 - Today I went down to old Oxford town

Today I went down to old Oxford town,
Near the Eagle & Child where Tolkien drank.
Historic houses, colleges, light-brown
Or yellowish stone; home of student prank.
My daughter met her friends again, last seen
Before Christmas. A girl had dyed her hair.
Frenzied unpacking; creating a scene
Of life in the small room from what was bare.
Boxes of books, so heavy with wisdom,
And plastic bags with clothes, handbags and shoes
Spilled out across the floor, almost the sum
Of Pearl’s possessions; so little to lose,
But so much to gain in those student years;
The memory of them never disappears.

True account of taking my daughter to college for the start of the second term of her first year as a student.
Thur 11 Jan 2007

9 - My youngest daughter Josephine was ill

My youngest daughter Josephine was ill
Today, and so I took the day off work
To keep an eye on her. What fun to shirk,
And hand in hand to walk to Café Del-
icious. She is three and a half as
I was way back in mid-66,
When Mother pushed me past the flags and bricks
Of Shaw Lane used car showroom. In its glass,
Now gone, was our reflection, while within
Stood idle salesmen watching mum and child
Walk to George Mason’s; walking a good mile
From Civil War site home to go shopping
On Market Street where young Sam Johnson roamed.
As I did then, today my daughter bloomed.
Wed 13 Sep 2006

4 - Children's voices skip through open doors

Children’s voices skip through open doors
As we sink into sofas and exhale
Friday evening’s five-day drudgery stores,
And hug the shadows as the sun grows pale.
They run, we read, we run from effort’s chores
And smile, to hear their joyous holy grail
Is not to pay for mortgages and wars,
But simply to spot squirrel, slug and snail.
We blazed that same old trail before, so why
Should envy slime its way along our thought?
The past is ours and stays there till we die,
While future guarantees amount to nought.
All time is motion: theirs goes twice as fast
In climb; let their descent, more gentle, last.
Fri 8 Sep 2006