New poems six: fresh thoughts unveiled
Welcome to our latest collection of original poetry. Each piece here is a fresh line of thought, crafted purely from inspiration. We hope you find joy and reflection in these new creations from poeticminds.co.uk.
Cyril the Tramp
An old Tramp wandered around locally
When I was young man in my early teens
I used to see him daily wandering around in a daze
Dressed in an old dirty jacket and well worn out jeans
But what made him so memorable, I still think about him to day
Was what was with him was a Badger on an old black lead
With its short legs and Weasel like black and white stripped head
On a seat near an old railway bridge they would often stop to feed
Eating any scraps they found checking out local litter bins
Whatever they found would be their meal of the day
Sometimes they would sit there till night time came
Then they get up and go on their merry way
Where they would spend the night nobody knows
But they were always up bright and early and out on their round
Always walking along cheerfully Cyril whistling a tune
But Bertie his Badger making nary a sound
Passer’s by would just nod and wish them good day
Walk by with smile and a look of surprise and an inquisitive look
Occasionally giving a few pennies as they went passing by
With Cyril and Bertie heading for the old brook
Where they could both par take a drink from the freshwater steam
Eat what morsels of food they to help them through the day
Sitting there silently admiring the view
Enjoying life in their own indomitable way
A more stranger couple it would be hard to find
But they never bothered anyone in their indomitable way
It was strange to see these two stalwarts of the road
One Human one Animal a strange combination to meet at any time of day
They got together on a dark late evening in December
Cyril wandering through the local woods on this winter’s night
Looking for shelter, just a place to lay his weary head,
When he heard this loud noise which gave him a fright
Investigating, he found Bertie caught in an old trap
He freed him immediately and used an old rag to bandage his wound
Then they spent the night together sheltering from the wind and the rain
From that time onward their relationship just bloomed
They have been together now for many a year
I see them quite often out and about on their walk
And always say hello with a smile and give Cyril a ten bob note
I wonder what Bertie would say if only he could talk
The Fractured Todger
Mr Smith a vain and obnoxious man
Overdid one hot steamy night in June
Making love passionately
Under the Stars and the Moon
Disturbed by a very large dog
His partner panicked and wanted to run
Who, leaping up, inadvertently kneed Mr Smith in the groin
Which caused damage he had rather had not of been done
So off to the doctors he did hurriedly go
With his todger well and truly bent
Moaning and groaning profusely
His love life suddenly well and truly spent
The Doctors receptionist Mrs O’Reilly called out next
So approaching the counter he did meekly smile
What’s wrong with you she said, eyeing up Mr Smith
Who was groaning and holding his groin all the while
Had an accident he replied, and it got bent
He whispered cautiously not wanting to be overheard
Speak up she bellowed loudly, don’t be shy
What got bent, Oh God, don’t be absurd
But it has he shouted temporarily forgetting his plight
With others in the waiting room now listening intently
I’ve definitely bent my thing-a-ma-gig quite badly
It all happened quite accidentally
A likely story said Mr’s O’Reilly
And into Dr Roberts he was sent
Who looked up and saw this man holding his groin
And then sat and listened intently to his predicament
Explaining how this misfortune happened
About making love and being disturbed
Flopping it out onto the table
The doctor now stared and looked quite perturbed
His todger was without doubt
Now well and truly bent
At an angle of forty five degrees half way down
And lent either way in the position it was sent
Mr’s Casey, the doctor’s new assistant
Who was the lady in question who caused this mishap
Screamed Oh my God, when she spotted the problem
Lurched forward quickly, slipped, and fell into Smith’s lap
A loud scream came from Mr Smith’s person
Who by now was distraught at the sight of his old chap
Now bent and bruised and aching
And leaking like an old kitchen tap
The scene was like an old pantomime farce
Because MR’s Casey had by now slipped to the floor
And hearing the commotion, racket and row
Mrs O’Reilly was now stood at the door
Mr Smith jumped up
His todger waving free in the air
With Doctor Roberts now creased up with laughter
Who promptly fell off his chair
The sight of Mr Smith’s anatomy
All battered and bent
As he ran out of the surgery cursing
No one knowing which way he went
When all gained their composures, a mystified look
Had overtaken the laughter that was rampant throughout
When everyone heard in the surgery
What all the fuss was about
Meanwhile Mr Smith, damaged todger and all
Had arrived back home by taxi no less
Into the bath for a jolly good soak
How he survived is anyone’s guess
The Ghost Soldier
As the battalion races into battle
You can hear a Saber rattle
But as we charge with guns a blazing loud
He can be seen, leading the crowd
A Ghost on horseback brilliant white
In his suit of armor a scary sight
No one can believe their eyes it seems
He should only be seen in blood curdling dreams
But to us he is as real, as we are
Like us has traveled very far
Not in miles, but in time
Like a hero in a nursery rhyme
As we charge on and vanquish our foe
A thousand soldiers all in a row
He leads by example from the front
The cannon fire, he bears the brunt
Can the enemy see him we all think?
Or is it only us, and a curse of the drink
Imaginary or real boldly we wonder
We frightened soldiers in a politicians blunder
As the battle rages, he disappears as quickly as he came
And none of us even knew his name
The old man
Worn out from his work
Sat in the old chair dreaming
If only I could sell one toy
Or make one dance like a boy
Many years I’ve carved away
Chipping bit by bit each day
Hours and hour’s I’ve spent
Creating each detail small and unique
With tiny hands and feet
Hoping one day to make a living
Being paid for doing something I love
As the old man fell asleep
He had a visitor
Unbeknown to him his guardian Angel
Who had been watching him for a while
And was now going to make his dream come true
So whilst he was asleep
All the toys he had made over the years
Came to life
And suddenly his workshop was a hive of activity
By morning the toys had made many new friends
And the shelves were full of exciting new toys
All made from wood
They had even made a sign for the outside of the shop
Old Frederick was awakened by a noise from outside
Looking out through the window he saw a crowd
So out he went to see what all the fuss was about
But as he arose from his chair
He was greeted by hundreds of little toys on the shelves
He stared in amazement
Outside the street was buzzing with activity
Little Boys and Girls were staring in at the window
Eyes wide open in delight
As Frederick went out into the street
He saw the sign Fredericks Toy Store
What on earth he thought to himself
Am I dreaming?
It’s no dream said a quiet voice
All these years you have toiled
With no thought of yourself
Thinking only of the children
And they had prayed for your good fortune
So I have come to make their dreams come true
So Fredericks Toy Store was born
To this day he never knew how the toys were made
But each night whilst he now sleeps
The toys come to life to ensure the shelves are always full
And although his Guardian Angel has disappeared
She is never far away
So always remember
If you pray hard enough and dream
Sometimes what you wish for will come true
Nurse Mary
Mary is a district nurse
She travels round each day
To see her patients, give them the care they need
As she wends her merry way
She has her trusty bicycle
Which is nearly as old as she?
But it lets her peddle for miles and miles
So she is as fit as fit can be
In her basket which fits upon the front
She carries all she may need
And she can be seen by every one
Travelling around at her own speed
There’s Mrs Maguire at Appleton Court
A saintly woman of means
But her health is not what it should be
And when Mary calls her face just gleams
To see someone so caring
Who looks after all her needs?
And to while away the time and make some tea
And bring happiness, she always succeeds
Old Mr Partridge at Apple Road
Who lives alone now his wife has passed away
Who is a miserable old so and so
But who Mary still calls on every day
She cooks and cleans but he still moans
The world need’s putting to right
He complains he needs more money from the state
To pay for his television and his heat and light
Saint Mary listens, but has problems of her own
Which intermingles with her own woes?
Being recently diagnosed with cancer
But she feels that’s the way it goes
So she must grin and bear it
Still thinks of others before herself
Has no one at home to turn to
She is a spinster left on the shelf
Married to her profession
Always putting others first
And as usual in life for caring people
They always come off worst
But Old Molly Catapult
A name to conjure with its true
Said it must have been a shot in the dark
Because her family were a motley crew
But Molly loved her garden
Where flowers bloomed all year
And Mary used to help her weed it
They enjoyed doing it together never fear
But as time went by Mary’s health became worse
She began to get tired more quickly than before
And when twilight time is near at hand
She is glad just to get through her own front door
But this particular morning she never arrived at all
No smile for Mrs Maguire, or any of the others too
Mrs Catapult felt so all alone
She did not know what to do
But she contacted the local policeman
Who called to see if Mary was all right?
And after breaking into her cottage
Found she had passed away that night
All her friends were saddened by the news
Her patients most of all
But they all knew how ill she was
And the reaper would someday call
And now in the memorial garden
Just away up the road from the infant school
They have erected a memorial garden
With a Plaque and ornamental pool
Because Mary was the person
On whom all the village could rely
And would be remembered by all that knew her
And even those who passed it by
The work that someone like Mary does
Is sometimes never really appreciated to the fullest extent
Until the day they are no longer there, then it becomes so evident