The weavers……….

The weaver…

He sits cross-legged and weaves his threads
And recounts his tales in children’s heads
And when he ends each woven line
He claps his hands and makes a sign.

And all the heads of boys and girls
Are filled with magic tales of worlds
Where mountain trolls and dwarves and elves
All live in books on library shelves.

Some are good and win the play
While others meet their fate today
And magic potions cast their spell
While fairies watch that all is well.

The weaver brings them all to life
The Giant and Jack, and the Farmer’s Wife
And all the stories children read
In to their heads he plants that seed.

And as the weaver turns a page
A sleeping child he’ll thus engage
A smile will form upon his face
Another child is safe in place.

For he was tasked to do this right
And keep all children safe at night
So his soft voice sounds in their ears
He keeps them free from night-time fears.

©Joe Wilson – The weaver…2016

The weaver…a very different sort…

He sits cross-legged and weaves his thread
And fills their heads with tales of dread
And when he ends each woven line
You live or die, he gives the sign.

And though you barely hear his voice
You have to listen, you’ve no choice
For if you don’t, or if you’re late
Surprise will then precede your fate.

For some their journey ends in Hell
To burn forever in sulphured smell
While others who have better luck
Can walk away and close the book.

But he can grip you with his tales
You get drawn in, he never fails
And once you turn your eyes to him
The chance of leaving gets too slim.

So if you see the weaver there
Cross-legged upon your bedside chair
You may decide to turn and run
Before his sordid tale is spun.

Weaver, weaver spin your thread
But keep from me your evil dread
Spin some silver, spin some gold
Show the tales that will unfold.

©Joe Wilson – The weaver…a very different sort…2016

Life in the clichés Pt 2…

They say…

It is not the winning that counts
It is the taking part
So it seems the stage was set
As I made a bid for your heart.

They also say faint heart
Never won fair maiden
I rose up to the challenge
With arms that were fully laden. [chocolates, flowers, humble pie, you know the kind of thing]

Well! All the worlds a stage, they say
And some of us merely players, they say
So I battled on regardless
Because every dog has his day.

And to the winner goes the prize
I won fair maiden’s hand
For I had moved all heaven and earth
Like a regular one-man-band.

So, since I’d won the love of my life
My heart now took up the slack
Then off we set on life’s travels
And by George! We’ve never looked back!! Toot, toot!

I say…

©Joe Wilson – Life in the clichés Pt 2…2016

An elephant! Up a tree!



Once more for animal lovers and children…

What a funny sight it would be
If an elephant really fell out of a tree
The mess it would make around the place
Would be nothing compared to the look on its face.
For elephants do not fall out of trees
They’re places for squirrels and birds and bees
But this was a special elephant you see
And he liked climbing tree after tree.
But he always fell with a mighty thud
Because of course, he was built like a pud!

His feet were large and his fingers well! None!
He used his trunk to really hang on
And of course his ears got in the way
He didn’t belong, well he was just so – grey.
The branches on which he sat would creak
When with his friends he played hide and seek
Who of course always looked up into the trees
Where their very large friend thought he hid if you please
Then he wobbled and shook and everyone could tell
As always the way he came down was, he fell.

©Joe Wilson – An elephant! Up a tree!…2015

No elephants were hurt in the writing of this poem.

Max goes wild…

wild things

(This little poem was a response to a challenge based on the book
‘Where The Wild Things Are’ by Maurice Sendak 1963)

Such havoc, such mayhem
As he roamed like a wolf
His anger driving him on
He tore through the house
He tore through his world
Terrifying everyone.

And of course
It had to come to this
They sent him to his room
Where red-eyed grotesques
And the wild things
Sat astride a giant mushroom.

They made a move
To challenge him
But of course he was too quick
And he became
Their greatest king
At which he was quite slick.

But how
He missed his Mother
And he missed
His Father too
He showed them he was better
Then he left the wild things zoo.

Back to the land
Of normal
His anger all but gone
He found hot supper
On the table
And the love of everyone.

©Joe Wilson – Max goes wild…2015

Out of the darkness…

Moving through the inky darkness
He leaps out suddenly at night
Stepping out from hidden corners
Where previously there’d been no sight.             shadow-in-doorway

Each night he hides in darkness’ maw
Awaiting all who pass
Until the sun begins to rise
By then he’s leapt his last.

No one’s surprised to see him
He follows us everywhere
For he is just our shadow
And of course…he’s always there.

Of course there are some places
Where he stays out of sight
It’s impossible to see him
If there isn’t any light.

If you have your dog with you
He has a shadow too
And everything the shadow does
He makes the dog do too.

©Joe Wilson – Out of the darkness…2014

This is a poem written mainly for children

It’s Not Always What You Think…

He feels the pull of his aching heart
His resistance was always a sham
He gives himself up to her gladly
You live once so he cares not a damn.

Why had he resisted these long years
The big cat he’d always admired
He decided he just wouldn’t wait anymore
And bought the Jag on the day he retired.


©Joe Wilson – It’s Not Always What You Think 2014

This is just for a bit of fun, our load and our spirits need a slight lift occasionally.