Tag Archives: #Loss

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.


I’m ‘there’ in the picture.

I’m ‘there’ in the picture,

can’t you see?

I’m the idjut swimming

in the cold of the sea;

I’m the one at the back

dawdling free;

I’m the clown at the fair

but no-one’s looking at me;

I’m the invisible man

stood next to the tree;

I’m the one who is missing

from the picture,

God bless me.

I had an idea

I had an idea

I had an idea

for a poem,

a wonderful poem,

better than all that I have ever written


then I saw a hypothetical squirrel…

… and that poem was no more.

Mama’s Little Soldier

Mama’s Little Soldier

Mama’s little soldier

went off to the war,

though he didn’t really know

what he was fighting for;

and when he came back,

he was in a box,

Mama visits him on Sundays,

and irons his socks.

Seagull Swoops

Seagull Swoops

Seagull swoops,

loops the loops,

and captures the moment,

that you lost your food,

forever, in your mind

the bird that had designs upon your treat;

swiped by beak and feet

in one mad rush of adrenalin…


But not forgotten,

as the gull gulps

his Ill-gotten gains,

upon your parade fall the rains.

Tears Have Ears

Tears Have Ears

Tears have ears;

only little tiny ones,

ones that you can’t really see;

but, be aware,

that they are there.

I’d lost my favourite knife!

I’d lost my favourite knife!

I’d lost my favourite knife,

I had it only then,

just a moment ago;

I want to use it;

but, do I have it? No!

it wasn’t there, and when

I looked, it wasn’t there again!

I looked up high,

I looked down low;

oh, where, oh where,

would my knife go?

I checked under my pillow,

and in the washing machine;

all the unlikeliest places

that my knife it could have been;

and then I found it,

my heart now be at rest;

it was where I’d left it;

in my late husband’s chest.

Thursday’s Gone Haiku

Thursday’s Gone Haiku

It’s Friday Morning;

it’s no good mourning Thursday,

just get over it.

Guitar Upon the Wall

Guitar Upon The Wall

The guitar hangs upon the wall

like a picture drawn a thousand times;

but, where is the use it needs to feel,

the lyric phrase, the quirky rhymes?

Strings, untuned, coated fine

with the dust of betrayal,

silently thrum to the tune

of an unheard song

from long, long ago;

when, or if, they shall play again

it’s beyond my knowledge to know.