First Snow

There’s a leaf on a branch on a tree in my garden
It’s a solitary leaf, as the rest have all gone
It must have hung on and hung on like Tarzan
For as I say it’s now just a one.

The strong wind out there just never seems to tire
It blows me so cold and with such force
So I’ll sit and I’ll write by my lovely log fire
Till the wind finally changes it’s course.

Winter’s coming and with it we’ll be getting some snow
Though we don’t get it as bad as some other folks do
But our love for it changes as the older we grow
And we feel the cold that much more too.


The Table, and my Friend

I made a friend in May, it was  a long long time ago
In nineteen ninety four, that’s twenty years or so
By the door to a hospital we chatted and generally chewed the fat
Him there after a heart attack, me a by-pass, and that was that.

A table is what we spoke of and the fact that I needed one
He said, ” I’ll make one for you, but a condition, there’s just one
I’ll make you your new table and you must help me where you can.”
I wasn’t sure what I’d walked into, but I agreed to my new friend’s plan.

So together we laboured at it, him working at his trade
Before long we’d made a table, even rails with carvings made
I’m not much of a carpenter, to think I am is daft
But it was a genuine pleasure, seeing my friend alive at his craft.

Time has passed on so very much, a long time since that May
My wife and I sit by that table every single day
It’s withstood things you’d not believe and yet it is still game
And the friendship that was born that day, well that has done the same.