Just for the hell of it
A swift parry here
A deft backswing there
…I’m beaten again by the boy
As he swings his lightsaber
There’s skill in his labour
…I’m grateful it’s only a toy.
Again he cries and I’m under attack
He darts to the side, now he comes from the back
…the young Master comes in for the kill
Jedi am I not
‘saber skills I’ve not got
…and it seemed as if I just stood still.
©JRW2014
If they stop and they listen
They can hear a small sound
But they have to listen closely
With their ears to the ground.
The sound that they hear is the ring of a bell
But only a young child is able to tell.
For as adults we’ve forgotten, we can’t hear the bell
Lost innocence from growing up drowns out the knell.
But innocence in children is a wonder and a bliss
And the ring of that bell we don’t want them to miss.
So when you see you a child with their ear to the ground
Chances are that they’re hearing that sweet ringing sound.
©JRW2014
My journey began many, many days ago
I’ve travelled through so many lives
Some are so sad that they break my heart
Some are full of joy and I’m loathe to part
But move I must as I journey on
Throughout the seasons from one to one
Till one day I arrive at my journey’s end
Where I hand the day over to my closest friend
I am a full year…now completed.
©JRW2013
Santa comes to bring great joy
For every little child a toy
He brings toy drums and skipping ropes
Pretty dolls, kaleidoscopes.
We leave him sherry and a mince pie
For him to eat as he goes by
And in the night as this takes place
At lots of windows, a little face
Too full of joy to sleep too well
They await the sound of the Jingling Bell.
©JRW2013
They run, they laugh, they skip, they climb, there activity stuns, everyday.
We watch, we smile, we enjoy, we play, we’re young again like they.
What a wonderful feeling playing games with grandchildren, they teach you as much as they learn.
We played with our children, and now our grandchildren, as the circle of life carries on.
The girl likes to climb, the boy likes to run, and they both do them both with such vigour.
They can be reading or not, but then they’re off like a shot, as if somebody just pulled a trigger.
They’re a joy, and so funny, as they grow, as they learn, and they question so much that they see.
It’s a task to embrace as you keep a straight face, as you answer them to their shouts of glee.
©JRW2013
I’m sitting here shivering and waiting
And I’m not having very much luck
While Tom over there has a net full of perch
There’s nowt on the end of my hook.
It’ll be just the same when we next go
Tom’ll fill up his net with some bream
Me, I’ll catch me a couple of minnows
But I’ll smile when I’d much rather scream.
But wait! The carp season cometh
And it’s my turn to have me some fun
The one way that he’d catch a leather
Is to shoot at the thing with a gun.
The carp, what a mighty opponent
Has such power and grace all in one
But poor Tom as he lifts up his ledger
Finds no fish, and the bait has all gone.
©Joe Wilson – To a Carp…2014
He lay down dying in the sand
And reached out with his withered hand
The only one that he had got
The other hacked off while he shot
At all hunters milling round
Who’d wrestled him down to the ground
And taken what he needed most
It was required by me, Mine Host
And though he couldn’t make a noise
They’d cut his tongue out, he’d no voice
Still I knew he understood
It wouldn’t do, it was no good!
He couldn’t have the apple pie
In my restaurant – you wear a tie!!
(To be spoken with increasing speed, gusto and volume!)
©Joe Wilson – Down at the Sahara Savoy.. 1996/2013
Jovis on a Journey... 