How grey the sky…

Once more the rains came
To soak up my resistance
My heart is now a sea of hurt
From memory’s harsh persistence.
And see how grey the sky now grows
Though still the sun will shine
It warms me not I find these days
For how my heart does pine.

And all the gold from winning
Some mythical jackpot prize
I’d trade for just a moment
Of joy in your sad, sad eyes.
For all the pain that’s in my heart
No more than lives in thine
Is love that fuels this sorrow
In two hearts that intertwine.

©Joe Wilson – How grey the sky…2017

The Big Red Wooden Train

wooden_toy_train

A big wooden train Dad made and painted red
Or a tricycle I sometimes preferred instead
Sometimes a Jeep or a truck or a plane
Those Dinky cars I played with again and again.

Cowboys and Indians that we played near the shed
At the end of the garden till it was past time for bed
Where I’d read Secret Seven books or Famous Five stuff
Till Mum put the light out and I’d feign a big huff.

It was a leisurely time full of fun with no fear
We enjoyed our school days and held them so dear
But it all fell to pieces on one Saturday past noon
When my beloved father died at years far too soon.

My childhood till then had been fun like a game
But from that moment on it was never the same
Though the standing by his grave in the cold pouring rain
Isn’t the memory I recall, it’s Dad’s home-made red train.

©Joe Wilson – The Big Red Wooden Train 2014