Loveuary. Day 18. Young Love

The  lovely  and  talented Ritu  of butIsmileanyway.com has set us all off on Loveuary. I for one am excited with the task. What is love? We shall find out as the month goes on.

Link to Ritu’s post.
Link to rules and prompts

loveuary

Today  is  Day 18 of  Lovuary. I  have chosen  for  my  prompt  today, the  joy  of  seeing  your  children in  love. I wrote  this  poem  in 2012 about  my  eldest  son  and his  then  partner. Sadly  it  did not  last  but  that  is  love,  that  is  life. The  day I  mention here is  a  day  full of  love .

 

They burst in through the back gate like a summer breeze.

Just the sight of their togetherness is enough to make me feel at ease.

Laughing at the back door as I opened it looking for the keys.

Dropping in for lunch on route to a holiday,

Full of noisy chatter and lots of things to say.

Lunch was a joint effort for the four of us a treat .

Including all types of food it really was quiet a feat .

Talking loud’  well that always was his way

But that does not worry her they seem like friends at play!

We were not expecting them they’d rang the night before to say

That they would be dropping in  today

For a break on their way.

It was great to have a catch up so good for us all to meet.

To see your children with their partners is really something sweet.

Then with much a commotion forgetting this and that .

They  are  gone  in a  flash  forgetting  a  hat.

Then all was quiet the hurricane past

Driving off waving to their holiday at last

Be happy, be loving to each other be true.

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NaPoWriMo Day 18, Respect

Day 18 NaPoWriMo : Today’s prompt is  to write a poem that begins and ends with the same word. Not easy so here goes!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Respect

———–

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Respect the boys demand,

Bling  dripping from neck and hand.

Acting like gangsters  pushing everyone around

Out your mouth you make Jamaican sound.

Big man, you think you are

Driving round in your  customed car.

Running with the gang hanging with the girls

Your prospect disapearing like swine before pearls.

Harassing the nervous and the older folk

Littering the place with needles, skank and  coke.

Never mind the children playing by the swings

They don’t know about needle sticks, aids and things

Peddling drugs and using kids on bikes as runners

Making rules for gangs, becoming knifers and gunners!

Starting young and never growing old

Ending up dead in a pool of blood on the pavement cold.

Mother grieving, says he was a good son

She don’t know the half of what he’s done.

Black hearse carries the boy, all his friends stand and reflect

On his coffin a single wreath spells the one word, Respect.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

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