GOING ON HOLIDAY

The motorway throbs out our journey,
There must be an end in sight;
My sister is slumped in her car seat,
And my seat belt is feeling too tight.

There’s a holdall jammed into my kidneys,
There is teddy bear fluff in my nose,
The radio’s blasting lame music
And I feel slightly numb in my toes.

Lunch was a sweaty old sandwich,
And I’m not sure I fancy my tea,
I can barely remember my breakfast,
And I’m still looking out for the sea…..

I notice our progress is slowing,
A python of traffic’s ahead,
We creep to a halt in the melee,
Parked, not zooming instead.

Four lanes of grumbling engines,
We’re glued to the hold-up from hell.
When Dad starts to growl at the sat nav
You know things aren’t turning out well.

“We’re not going to make it for dinner,”
Mum sounds like she’s falling asleep,
But my sister’s awake from her slumber
And writhes like a semi-shorn sheep.

We hang in a time-stretching stupor;
Another dull round of I-Spy.
Dad comments on everyone’s driving –
Distracting for “my little eye.”

At last we begin to get moving.
Not that we move very far.
My sister is not looking happy,
PLEASE don’t let her be sick in the car.

One day I will feel cool and comfy,
One day I will be on the beach
With the sea and the sand in my tootsies,
But now it seems so out of reach….

PANCAKE DAY

Stir and slosh and swish the batter,
Pour it in the pan,
Swirl and set and brown the pancake,
Toss it if you can.

Lemon, sugar, sauce or syrup,
Make the pancake sweet,
Fold the pancake, roll the pancake,
Now it’s time to eat.

VOICELESS WORD

Petals red, like drops of blood,
Spilled out above the patch of mud,
As if the soil could not forget,
And urged the world to still remember,
To see a poppy in November.

Tissue-thin the flimsy flower,
It weakness bore a sudden power;
Born of blood, of tears, of sweat.
And through its silence could be heard
The echo of the voiceless word.

BY THE SEA

(These words are the lyrics to a song which can be heard by clicking below)

Sing me a song of candyfloss
And buckets full of crabs, oh,
Sing me a song of sandy toes
And cliffs where salty winds blow,
Sing me a song of slippery pools
And all the things that we know
Gather by the sea.

Sing me a song of curling waves
And pebbles smooth as glass, oh,
Sing me a song of crunchy shells
And rocks where seagulls swoop low,
Sing me a song of fishing boats
And all the things that we know
Gather by the sea.

Sing me a song of fish and chips
And drippy, licked ice creams, oh,
Sing me a song of cricket games
And laughter at the pier show,
Sing me a song of sandy dunes
And all the things that we know
Gather by the sea.

(Musical accompaniment by Scuffy)