Tag Archives: #Loss

I found a pebble

I found a pebble

on the beach,

small and round

within my reach;

I picked it up

I put it down,

it made me smile,

it made me frown.

.

I visit the beach

most every week,

I see my pebble not

though I do seek;

perhaps someone else did find

my pebble there,

and did not leave my pebble behind,

took it away, without a care.

I wrote a poem

I was writing a poem,

it wasn’t that good;

but, even so,

I had to finish it,

as a proper poet should.

.

I honed it to perfection,

made it absolutely the best,

a cut above your average,

a thrust above the rest…

.

… then I accidentally deleted it,

‘Whoosh!” and it was gone;

never to be written the same way;

but, its loss,

not to be dwelt upon.

When you go

When you go

(and I know you will)

I hope that you’ll know

that I am still with you;

and all that we had

is with you

and all that we were

is with you

and all that we are

is there

with you.

Diary Entry: Sat. 8th Oct. 2022 – 4 becomes 3

4 leads out; 3 leads back.

Well, it wasn’t going to be a lost dog lead now, was it? No, yet again, it was my iPhone charging lead. I will never learn. And we did two more laps of the woods to try and find it – the dogs loved that – but, no, I didn’t find the 18” long, shiny blue lead. I will have to head off to the local shop and pur-chase a replacement.

You have to laugh at these small, inconsequential, misfortunes.

Anyway, I shall post this now as a reminder to myself to take more care next time – but, there is going to be a next time for losing my lead, that I can assure you.

Praise the Titanic

Nobody knows how

to safely praise the Titanic;

a feat to be measured in two parts.

The first somewhat shorter

than the second,

the second, reckoned,

to be longer than the first.

How can this task be done?

I ask you this,

because I know that you have knowledge,

and brains,

know the difference between locomotives and trains,

and can count from ten to one,

backwards.

But, how can it be done?

I ask you this,

as I have asked you before,

is there any way

that we can possibly praise the Titanic

from the depths of our hearts?

Tobie

Tobie was a catcher,

a catcher in the rye;

he’d catch the ball I threw for him

no matter how far or high.

I miss my little catcher,

his cuddles and his ways;

but that pooch did live his best life

in the most mysterious ways.

Acquaintance Haikus

There’s an acquaintance

that I have no knowledge of –

I call him Sidney.

.

He likes to call round

at inopportune moments

and brings me flowers.

.

He stays for minutes –

barely time for a cuppa –

then he toodles off.

.

I count down the hours

until he returns once again

a bunch in his hand.

.

I don’t like flowers,

or Sidney, or Sidney’s hat;

they make me feel sad.

.

One day – not today –

I shall answer the front door

wearing just a smile.

.

This may do the trick,

or it might encourage him,

who can tell these days?

—//—

When Sidney passed on,

I cried for a long weekend,

and felt my time called.

.

Forty years later,

I still think of old Sidney,

and his horrible hat.

Our Triffid’s gone

Our Triffid, it’s gone!

Or it may be hiding;

we dare not go and see,

we do not go and look –

or perhaps it’s just a mythical creature

I read of in a book.

We counted them out

We counted them out,

and we counted them in,

there were fewer came back,

and they cried ‘Did we win?’

‘Not today.’ we said,

with a degree of sorrow;

‘But, we are bound to win tomorrow’.

So, we counted them out,

and we counted them in,

still fewer came back,

and they asked ‘Did we win?’

‘Not today.’ we said,

with a soupçon of sorrow,

‘But, we’ll probably win tomorrow.’

So, we counted them out,

and we counted them in,

just a handful came back,

and they asked, Did we win?’

‘Not today.’ we said,

with a small pinch of sorrow,

Though we’re quite likely to win on the morrow.’

Then we counted them out,

and we counted him in,

a dusty young lad from the Farthings,

and he asked, ‘Did I win?’

‘Not today’. we admitted,

with a tear in one eye,

‘But tomorrow is another day,

in which you can try’.

We counted him out…

I unwrote a radio script today.

Sadly, that is what I did: whilst trying to listen to a ‘notes’ document on my iPhone I managed within two or three seconds to delete the whole thing.

Not the end of the world, nor a major catastrophe, but I felt the sadness that losing something precious brings.

It’s not like losing a friend or a relative – as also happened today – and in comparison losing a sketch, poem, or script is nothing – but it set my mood on a downward slope that has been hanging around me since.

Losing a friend of Jane’s today is much more serious, and my error pales into insignificance – however, some things we can avoid, and some things we can’t.

It’s been quite a rubbishy Friday, and all on top of the current crisis in the world.

Sharing a thought for those who lose, and those who are lost in the world today, and every day.

G❤️