A gentle nomad…

A nomad stopped at my shop today
And I asked him what he would take
He said he would like an apple
And a large slice of fresh tea-cake.

So I did give, and he receive
And we sat and chatted of life
We could have been just us two on Earth
I thought, passing the butter knife.

At last he said he had to go
With a gentle ancient cough
He left a small wooden cross behind
Donned his cap, said goodbye, and was off.

The man was just a stranger
From Adam I knew not he
But he had such a peaceful aura
And he left that cross for me.

It’s quiet in the shop these days
Of the nomad I saw no more
Be he had such a gentle way with him
That moved me to the core.

©Joe Wilson – A gentle nomad…2016

My friend Tim…

They called him names and some would laugh
He was different, and they were a bit scared
Yet when he walked along the street
It was as if he couldn’t have cared.

It was the Fifties, an unsophisticated time
He was clumsy, and sometimes looked into space
But his smile had that kind of innocence
You only see on a Down Syndrome face.

He grew up in pain with a twisted foot too
Which made his gait odd for to see
But we got along fine like the friends that we were
My noble young friend, him and me.

He lived with his mother, no dad to be found
Inseparable, they were a great team
My friend and his mum tried to get him a job
For that was his biggest ever dream.

They managed to get him a post helping out
Moving boxes and trolleys at the store
He did it for years with that smile on his face
Said he felt proud when he left his front door.

But his heart was quite weak and his lungs not too good
By thirty he was struggling to breathe
He passed away peacefully at just thirty-two
And I and his friends all quietly grieve.

For Tim it was a full life, one he’d enjoyed
And why not, he was like you and me!
He just made the best of the things that he had
And was the best he could possibly be.

I miss my friend often, so many years have now passed
His nobility made him special in ways
That so many people mistakenly read
For it was kindness they saw in his gaze.

©Joe Wilson – My friend Tim…2015

A small footprint to signify ones life…

And so you reach your final scene
Will someone know that you have been
Did you enjoy a fulfilled life
Or was it filled with pain and strife
And did you ever stop and find
Enough surprise to blow your mind
Did music lift your spirits high
And books so thrill you by and by
Or were perhaps these not for you
You found more sporty things to do.

Did you find someone to love
Who made your heart soar high above
And was your faith a boring drone
That made you feel the need to moan
Or did it lift your spiritual tone
And let you know you weren’t alone.
Have you made a difference
Of complex times have you made sense
And have you done the best you can
Or been a swine or harridan
Is your humbleness well known
Or is your call a megaphone?

We are so many, we differ so
How others feel we sometimes know
But if we’re generous in our hearts
Friendships grow from gentle starts
And you can love just who you choose
The loveless are the ones to lose
As those who love care for the land
Embracing nature, no demand
And making way to journey’s end
When sometimes death seems like a friend
Perhaps reflect and leave this hint
We all should leave a small footprint.

©Joe Wilson – A small footprint to signify ones life…2015

Holding hands…

Moulded together in love and pain
They were always by each other’s side
That’s how for life they chose to remain
Each to the other was their pride.

Heartaches came and went yet still
They were steadfast in their love
Held together by their simple will
They fitted like a hand in a glove.

They aged and their bodies grew fragile
Yet that love still carried them along
As a thing that was always so, tactile
It sustained, it was so very strong.

And then one day they were there no more
But their love was now so cast in stone
That devotion to each other went right to the core
As holding hands they passed into the unknown.

©Joe Wilson – Holding hands…2015

Marching forwards in love and in life…(Acrostic)

Marching forwards in love and in life
As snowdrop and crocus cover Spring earth
Raw though the wind, as Winter still lingers
Chapping the faces exposed to its wrath.
Hope springs eternal as I sit by the hearth
Indoors the warmth of a nice open fire
Nicely chopped logs all stacked by a scuttle
Glorious flames up the chimney rise higher.

Flames soporific and soon I am sleeping
Out like a light from the heat of the fire
Running in dreams and thinking of roses
Wrapped in a beautiful paper display.
All for the lady who loves me forever
Roses the flowers from my heart every day
Dreams full of happy, and our lovely children
Slight sadness now as they make their own way.

It’s many years now and our love we have found
No more needs the blankets we laid on the ground.

Living a life with one who inspires you
Overly blessed like the Spring that now hails
Verdant the grass round the bench in the garden
Each night during Summers we tell lover’s tales.

And as we enter our twilight of living
Not for a second our passion shall wane
Drawn to each other, a one made from twain.

Isn’t it wondrous when love makes hearts bind
Never a doubt in your passion-filled mind.

Letters we’ve written of love for each other
Ink that was written, but not by a sage
Finally we slip into hot-chocolate evenings
Enjoying the warmth as we turn the next page.

©Joe Wilson – Marching forwards in love and in life…2015 (Acrostic)

I bet…

I bet that as a child I climbed up many trees
Sometimes in tears running home with cut knees
I’d have played with Dinky toys and Hornby trains
And jumped into puddles after pouring rains.

I bet that as a youth I was petulant and daft
And sailed down a river on a home-made raft
I’d have ridden on my bike for miles and miles
Watching all the steam trains at railway styles.

And on a rugby pitch I’d have felt right in place
Charging down the wing or lying on my face
To clubs I’d have gone for the rhythm and the blues
We’d dance through the night like we’d nothing to lose.

I bet I met a lady who would love me forever
Who’d nurture our children and make us seem clever
She’d always keep me warm on the coldest nights
And be by my side when I get these frights.

I bet these things I’ve written may have all taken place
But the end-game approaches at an ever-quicker pace
I see it is the sort of life someone like me would need
But the memories have faded like an old dried up seed.

 

©Joe Wilson – I bet…2015

We foolish men…

 

A man can fancy himself a lover
He can fool himself so well
But without he’s kind and thoughtful too
He’ll remain a man for whom no one fell.
 

We foolish men with egos writ large
Our pride makes us oft so foolhardy
And in arrogant fashion we think we’re the best
Like a hero carved out by a Thomas Hardy.
 

And yet when we give all we are to the one
To the one who can bring joyous tears
That person will give all they are in return
O true happiness! You just grow through the years.
 

Love will make your heart shine bright
It will lift away your fears of lonely
For when you’re with the one you love
It is never a time of being the only…
 

©Joe Wilson – We foolish men…2015