Archive of ‘poetry’ category

Housework

Housework: The tasks, such as cleaning and cooking, that are performed in housekeeping.

So today my mum is coming to stay, and instead of cleaning and tidying my house I’m sat here writing this poem about it! I hate housework, do you?

Tidy here,
Spring clean there,
Wipe a spill,
Mop, then stare.

New spill,
New mess,
More dirt,
Not less.

Uphill struggle,
Dust and grime,
Sweep again,
Not enough time.

Vacuum daily,
Put things away,
Empty dishwasher,
Do this all day.

Laundry waiting,
Food on floor,
Relentless cleaning,
Will do it no more.

A losing battle,
I never will win,
Let’s live in a mess,
I’m done, I give in!

😉

Prose for Thought

Power Through

Power Through: (v.) continue despite difficulties

Not one normally,
To ask for help.
Just power through,
Fine by myself.

Up at night,
Work all day.
No time for rest,
Little time for play.

In control of it all,
How I want to be seen.
No cracks, no failing,
Falling apart at the seam.

Don’t notice the signs,
The aches and the pains.
Ignore the heaviness,
In body and brain.

Niggles, hints,
A break is what’s due.
Still cook, still clean,
Always power through.

Sore throat starts,
Head ache begins.
I will not, cannot,
Begin to give in.

Until it takes over,
Forces me down.
Unable to function,
Do nothing but frown.

Help needed,
Look after me.
Man down, mummy down,
I simply can’t be.

Indulge in my sickness,
Sleep, rest, restore.
Till I’m better and ready,
To power through once more.

Prose for Thought

Insomnia

Insomnia: Insomnia, or sleeplessness, is a sleep disorder in which there is an inability to fall asleep or to stay asleep as long as desired.

Darkness, silence,
Yet my brain screams noise.
Thoughts, words,
Never quiet.

Breathing becomes quicker,
Shoulders hunched.
Uncomfortable, restless.
Eyes wide open.

Anxiety awakens,
Panic begins.
Thoughts whirl, never stopping.
Heart beats out of time.

Stare at the ceiling,
Stare at the walls,
Need an escape,
Need rest, peace.

Tears well in my eyes,
Frustration, anger,
Inconsolable, wound up,
Tense, awkward.

Give up, get up.
Alone in the dark.
Peaceful house,
Hectic mind.

Brain at war with body,
Eventually shuts down.
Restless sleep,
Wake exhausted.

Trudge through the day,
Maybe tonight,
Sleep will greet me,
like an old friend.

Prose for Thought

Battles

Battle: Generally, a battle is a conceptual component in the hierarchy of combat in warfare between two or more armed forces, or combatants. A war sometimes consists of many battles. Battles generally are well defined in duration, area and force commitment.

Constant, heated battles,
Angry with me most days,
You want to shout out loud, be heard
Determined to do things your way.

You feel you’re so grown up now,
Yet you’re not quite old enough,
To do the things you’d like to do.
You’re finding it so tough.

You challenge every sentence.
You feel wronged in every way.
You get frustrated, get grumpy,
From one mood to the next you sway.

You say I make you angry,
That I’m cross all of the time.
You answer back because you,
Think you haven’t done the crime.

You’re quick to think the worst,
To think I’m constantly having a go.
You think I’m always saddened by you,
The seeds of doubt begin to sow.

Is this the beginning of teenagdom?
Is there worse to come?
Am I doing something wrong?
Am I not being a good mum?

Our bond is a very strong one,
Sometimes we’re just too close.
Too similar, we’re just the same.
She is like me the most.

We’re stubborn, always think we’re right.
Self doubt sometimes sneaks in.
Attacking the best form of defence,
Not stopping until we win.

She’s fiery, gorgeous, passionate and strong,
Confident and wild.
My gorgeous tween, my crazy girl,
My beautiful first child.

I try to stay calm when the whirlwind starts,
Hope the anger doesn’t last.
Take deep breaths and say to myself,
Don’t worry, this too shall pass.

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Prose for Thought

The Gîte

Gîte: A gîte is a specific type of holiday accommodation. A gîte is a holiday home which is available for rent. Gîtes are usually fully furnished and equipped for self-catering.

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She stands tall and proud,
Elegant on the outside, decorative.

Flowers hang by the door, swaying in the breeze.
Shutters open wide,
Daring the observer to take a closer look through netted curtains.

Looking out onto fields of corn,
Nestled in the perfect spot,
Tucked away and private.

Yet inside holds a secret.
Once grand and new, once solid and clean,
Now she lies dusty and dormant.
Only coming alive when a family enters,
Bringing with them laughter and life.

Look closely and you will see the fireplace crumble,
Touch too hard and a light shade will fall,
Exposing live and dangerous wires.

She is tired inside,
In need of some love.
She is old and worn.

Strong wooden beams support her still,
Strength on the inside keeps her standing on the outside.
Looking at the outside no one could know what is hidden in the depths,
Until they dare to enter deeper.

She could be grand again if someone just took the time to look after her,
Nurture her back to her former glory.
She is not lost forever.
Appearances can be deceptive.

Prose for Thought

Building Memories

Memories: The mental faculty of retaining and recalling past experience. The act or an instance of remembering; recollection: spent the afternoon lost in memory. All that a person can remember. Something remembered: pleasant childhood memories.

Lives together,
Yet often apart.
Separated all day,
Joined by five hearts.

Goodbye in the morning,
Gone all the day.
Home-time, bedtime,
Sometimes away.

Holiday different,
Together at last.
Memories building,
Like my childhood past.

Same beach as then,
Twenty-five years on.
Father not here,
Fourteen years gone.

Memories built then,
Still vivid and clear.
Just like it was yesterday,
And he somehow near.

A family then,
When I was the child.
As the parent now,
New memories are filed.

Time away important,
A chance to rest.
Recharging spent batteries,
Time out with the best.

Laughter and love,
Five of us as one.
Living and loving,
Memorable fun.

Different culture,
Wonderful sights.
Days on the beach,
Long, lazy nights.

Precious time together,
My family, my world.
Breathing in new memories,
My heart forever will hold.

Prose for Thought

Travel

Travel: Travel is the movement of people between relatively distant geographical locations, and can involve travel by foot, bicycle, automobile, train, boat, airplane, or other means, with or without luggage, and can be one way or round trip.

In the car,
A long way to go.
Are we nearly there yet?
For the millionth time ‘no!’

Turning left,
Then straight on.
Missed our turning,
Gone very wrong.

Children are bored,
Whinging and grumpy.
Bum is numb,
Road is bumpy.

Chocolate, treats,
Keep them happy.
Music on,
Oh no! Smelly nappy!

Play eye spy,
read or sleep.
Distracted for seconds,
Attention must keep.

Kilometres, miles,
Long way to go.
Sometimes drive fast,
Roadworks, drive slow.

Pins and needles,
Sat for too long.
Packed full of bags,
Room for us…none.

Destination, arrival!
French bread and wine!
Holiday begins now,
Stinky cheese is all mine. 😉

This poem was written with the help of my 12 year old daughter during our long journey to our gite in France!

Prose for Thought

Travel

Travel: Travel is the movement of people between relatively distant geographical locations, and can involve travel by foot, bicycle, automobile, train, boat, airplane, or other means, with or without luggage, and can be one way or round trip.

In the car,
A long way to go.
Are we nearly there yet?
For the millionth time ‘no!’

Turning left,
Then straight on.
Missed our turning,
Gone very wrong.

Children are bored,
Whinging and grumpy.
Bum is numb,
Road is bumpy.

Chocolate, treats,
Keep them happy.
Music on,
Oh no! Smelly nappy!

Play eye spy,
read or sleep.
Distracted for seconds,
Attention must keep.

Kilometres, miles,
Long way to go.
Sometimes drive fast,
Roadworks, drive slow.

Pins and needles,
Sat for too long.
Packed full of bags,
Room for us…none.

Destination, arrival!
French bread and wine!
Holiday begins now,
Stinky cheese is all mine. 😉

This poem was written with the help of my 12 year old daughter during our long journey to our gite in France!

Prose for Thought

Irritability

Irritability: Irritability is an excessive response to stimuli. The term is used for both the physiological reaction to stimuli and for the pathological, abnormal or excessive sensitivity to stimuli; It is usually used to refer to anger or frustration.

Easily irritated,
Wound up, cross.
Can’t help this feeling,
Happiness lost.

Simple things,
Drive me insane.
Frustration bubbling,
Nothing’s the same.

Long days,
Longer nights.
Tiredness kicks in,
Reaching new heights.

Feelings fragile,
Tempers frayed.
Impatience begins,
Rationality swayed.

Fists clench,
Teeth grind.
Deep breathing helps,
To clear troubled mind.

Close the door,
Sink under bubbles.
A nice warm bath,
Soothes all my troubles.

Apologies needed,
Accepted, forgiven.
Positivity needed,
Optimism driven.

All forgotten,
Move on once more.
Irritations gone,
Anger no more.

Prose for Thought

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