The poet’s lines are spiced with some magic

The phrases are music to our ears thoughts to ponder

In a whirlwind world it’s more poetry we need

To help and understand the confusion of life

The old man squats for a closer look at existence

Dodging a call from death’s wand many times

The young lad withering from life seeing no road

Stands frightened alone not seeking help

But the lines of prose written so tenderly

Can only help and enhance their minds to cope

A tune-out from a world no one learns from

Only to absorb words written so neat

No qualification, no college no cert. at all

Is a requirement to be a poet

Only thoughts transferred from a mind

To pages that will last for an age.

*******************************************************************************************************************************

 Ivy lane

Leafy drive

West cork

 Dear Weather man

It is with much sadness I am writing this letter. I watched the weather forecast on television on Monday the 16^th July, and I was delighted to see that you were predicting the forecast for the following day to be sunny, only a very slight wind you said, that it would be relatively calm. From start to finish the words from your mouth were pure music to my ears. I went to bed a relaxed person in spite of the fact I was having a barbeque the following day for twenty. To a young man like you that doesn’t seem like a lot to cater for, but an old woman like me it’s quite a crowd. But I was happy with the weather and as you well know that is very important for a barbeque.

I finalised all my plans and hit the sack at ten thirty, again let me explain that is a very late hour for the aged. I slept sound I even dreamt about my father who passed away many years ago. It was a happy dream I woke to the sound of my alarm clock which is a cuckoo clock tone set up by my grand niece on my digital clock.

I pulled the cord of my bedroom curtain, again a special cord for the elderly that my nephew Bart installed for me. He is working and living in America and he also, was invited to my party. He was looking forward to playing music outdoors; he is a very talented musician you know. When I looked out my window I couldn’t believe my eyes, I even blinked a few times to make sure I was awake. The wind and rain were almost coming in through the glass to me. The bunting my neighbours put up around my driveway was flying high across the road on top of a big sycamore tree. I went down stairs and out the back door with me, young man (I forgot where I wrote down your name, and you only appear on my T.V twice a week. I’m so upset I can’t wait for your next appearance to recall your title) where was I, oh indeed yes the rain. It was just as bad out in my back garden were my party was to be held.

I won’t go in to details of my birthday party that is for another letter but I would like you to explain to me, by return of post, how a weather forecaster got the weather prediction for the following day so incorrect. I must sign off now and go to my craft class for the elderly.

Sincerely

 A confused birthday lady

Marge.

Meteorological Office

 Dublin

Dear Marge

I received your letter an hour ago; I rush to write this before the post leaves the meteorological building. It was very regrettable the weather forecast didn’t shine for your party. But unfortunately we are never one hundred percent sure of the prediction. You probably know that in Ireland always prepare for the rain no matter what.

Any further queries your relations will help you log on to our weather site at weatherirish.c

Ralph.

Ivy Lane

Leafy Drive

West Cork

Dear Ralph.

Let me begin by telling I am well versed in logging on to the internet, I email my relations weekly, and sometimes more frequent. I did a course on computers for the aged, I was top of the class, and I’m enclosing a copy of the photograph that appeared in the newspaper on completing the six week training.

I’m not happy with your reply at all. In fact I was talking to my neighbour at the craft class yesterday and she told me you gave an incorrect forecast last week. Her son was going harvesting the crops; he cancelled due to the weather. The morning in question low and behold the sun was splitting the stones.I could go on and on with examples, but I need an explanation why in a world of weather satellites, education, modern equipment, you name ‘em ye have them. What is the problem.

My father, you remember in my previous letter I mentioned I was dreaming about him. Well he was gifted at telling the weather. He was always correct. He never had all the equipment you have nowadays. I do not accept the explanation you gave in your letter. I don’t know what is happening at your place of work, because ye are not doing a good job.

I intend to go public with this scandal. But I will wait until I hear from you again.

An angry old lady

Marge

Meteorological Office

Dublin

Dear Marge

I now am angry. You said you wouldn’t go public until you received a reply from me. The press are at my workplace every day. We were the heading of the news last night.

And what is worse the weather forecast has been suspended until an enquiry is completed. We, here at the met. Station knew there was no way of predicting the weather. Now everyone does.

A relieved Ralph.

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Speckled thoughts of summer

Green
Soft air
A cloud crying
Sun bursting
Flowers follow the heat
Fish jump
Avoiding a hook
Sometimes
Barbeque perfume
Floating
Hungary mouths
Fresh from
The beach
Swallows fly
Low
Fearless
The sun dazzle on the waves
Atomising and searing
A tourist lost
Happy
Music out doors
Coffee and a beer
Children munching
A mind
Forgetting school
Elders
Resurrecting
Colour clothes
Bought
Moons ago
Still admired
Tennis
World cup
A goal
Not
Vuvuzela
Humming
Men in shorts
Cut grass
That grows
Again
No government
Only recharging
Hoping a new think
Mountain of ice-cream
Melting
To thoughts
Beyond the brain
Ham sandwich shared
With a fly
Knowing
The longest day
Gone
Dark gets ready
For work again
But
Now
Enjoying
Summer.

The man

Voice a soft tone, strong

Must be old, tidy

Dressed aptly

An aged hippy

Stressing personal issues

Loves the water

Wavy peace

Still dreams

Of a journey to anywhere

A place less travelled

Talks to the shopkeeper

And the man at the bus stop

They always nod an agreement

Loves West Cork

Should have lived there

Fifty years before

A nomad at heart

One of a few living the sermon

Now no sightings

Wonder where he is

Must be

Camouflaged with the leaves

Growing life

Little miss baby happy gurgling

A tiny beauty

 Crying only for a short time

Smiling eyes big and bright

The toddler stumbles but soon upright

Getting stronger for the path of life

Preteen awkwardness

And hurrying to be mature

The indiscretion of youth

Exuberant attitude

A pleasure to all

 Moving on to the adult world

People trying to escape it

Starting to reminisce on past times

Middle age moving to old age

Now clinging to life

Searching for a prescription

A secret to linger on and live

Forever

Lighting the water 
 
 

A light was seen on the boat nightly

At the old pier

A glow warm and wet

The craft hugged the radiance

The hum of the engine in the belly of the boat

And the skipper prepared for take off 

Bouncing out to sea

The light perched high up with the masts

Can be seen at shore from a misty window

Moving to the horizon line

Fading 

Miles from the company of land

The crew work under the bright radiance

Skipper remarking

This light has a longer life then usual 

A rest for one man some food for another

Chief gazing at the reflection of the light

On the water where previous fishermen

Lye

Their lives echo around him 

Heaving with a full catch

The boat heads for land

Leaving a trail of light

Like the crumbs from the

Gingerbread house 
 

                            
     A  Promise

May your friends be as many as the promises you keep

May you win the election with the votes that you seek

Hope you do good work for the citizen you stand for

And they won’t complain about you all anymore

In one years’ time the road will be repaired

In months to come the children will be well cared

The aged won’t have to demonstrate anymore

To let the world know being alive ‘aint such a chore

 Crime will be tackled straight away without excuse

And the youngsters will be taught how to deal with the booze

Tell the natives to buy local and encourage grow your own

And eco friendly cars will drive around the town

Please get a place for our money that is safer than the bank

We like to hear the sound of our money go clink clank

The bosses there can’t count wish they learn very fast

The stocks and shares need to rise quite soon just like yeast

Dear politicians I’m afraid things won’t change for a while

Despite the fact the locals complain saying you’re like bile

Time passes we forget ‘till election time comes again

Please vote for us they implore new promises will begin