My Grandchildren’s Visit (A Poem)

My grandchildren bring much delight
Not one squabble and ne’re a fight
I’m weary now but full of joy
Having had this girl and boy

One child is eight, and one is ten
We planned a treehouse, built a den
Played tic-tac-toe and catch the ball
Had so much fun; I loved it all

We went for lunch and fed the ducks
There was no rain; we were in luck
The park was next that they had spied
Up the ladder, down the slide

Staying up while here allowed
Bedtime stories read out loud
A cuddle and a kiss goodnight
Leaving on the bedside light

I’ve had so very much to do
My energy, I must renew
Now, they’ve gone; I miss them so
But my heart is all aglow.

POSTSCRIPT

I appreciate each one of you
Thanks for reading my work, too
Thanks for your likes and each kind word
I’m weary now but not perturbed

Climbing up the hill, am I
Work piling up to reach the sky
A hundred emails in a row
I’ll start afresh, just so you know.




Image source – Google
Promenade Park playground in Maldon









                                      


Filling Holes

I feel lost without the space where I once sat
And the easy way I used to be able to chat
About so much that was bothering me
Dealing with it all in my now absent therapy

I’m now on a waiting list; I hope a place comes soon
Feelings and sentiments are confusingly strewn
What to do with all this time that goes so slowly by
Waiting for a new assessment; I hope I qualify

I miss the reassurance that I could cope
I like to think I can, and I still have that hope
I must find other means with which to fill my days
Emotion, when choked back, finds other ways

I’ve found myself with lots of empty holes to fill
I somehow have the energy; I need to find the will
Thought I’d visit a workshop to try my hand at art
A brand new shiny hobby I could possibly start

Wednesday night, I’m going to circle drumming
Listen to guitars in the next room gently strumming
Beating the drums will get pent-up feelings out
Dispelling anxious tension, I have no doubt

I don’t need to be perfect; just try to keep the beat
It’s easy to catch on to; no need to be discreet
It’s about celebrating life and having lots of fun
I’m passionate about it, and I’m not the only one

Thursday afternoons, I’ll go out picking litter
Even when the weather is absolutely bitter
I’m with a group of people; wouldn’t dare to go alone
Filling council bags with rubbish that’s been thrown

Papers, tickets, fag ends scattered in the park
It keeps us very busy until it’s almost dark
Doing something positive to while away the time
As out of my despair, I’m slowly learning to climb.


Photo by Markus Winkler on Unsplash