Quote Of The Week

‘Music really is the international language. All the places I’ve been to in the world are divided by language, idealogy, religion, etc, but music unites us all. It’s quite spectacular really, music’s extraordinary power to heal, to help, in a very real sense.’

Cured- Lol Tolhurst

The Cure

January Calls

Ah, January, I see you’ve brought me some ice. Please leave it by the door. I don’t mean to be rude but when you come around, you bring me down. Your clothes are drab, your demeanour cold and your jokes for all things winter, are getting old. I know you have to visit and I don’t exactly give you a warm welcome but it’s the same on your side of the fence. There’s no love lost, is there?

Still, you do make me smile sometimes, with your tales of Christmas Past and your Very Best Wishes for the New Year. You quite respect those who brave another of your fierce tempers and make it through to warmer times. I see that, as you go, you leave me with some hope for longer days and brighter mornings and the promise of the sun on my face. So thank you January, you are kinder than I thought. Ah, I see I have another guest. Can you say hello to February on your way out?

Ah, February, I see you’ve brought me some ice…

Hope Is Long

Hope is long

When you’re born.

It’s longer than a cold, cold night

And keeps you nice and warm

Hope is deep

When you take your first step

It goes up past your waist

Gets your ears wet

When you go to school

Hope trails right behind

Sometimes tangles up

But is always there to find

And when you are a teenager

And school is done

Hope becomes a lasso

To catch the sun

And in your twenties

There’s nothing you can’t do

Hope is like a coat

That looks really good on you

And as the years go by

And your youth, it flies away

Your hope becomes a friend

That you cling to every day

And you take life’s knocks

The bores and the thrills

The birthday cards stop coming

And you’re left with all the bills

And that door that is closing

Is getting harder to push

The dreams have all grown up

And they don’t come and visit as much

And you’re standing there one day

And you suddenly start to think

What happened to your hope?

Is it beginning to shrink?

It’s no longer dancing

Bright eyed and bushy tailed

Shorter than an ankle sock

And looking rather pale

You can’t wrap it around anywhere

It’s not flexible or strong

In fact, it’s disappearing

Where did it all wrong?

One day you look around you

And hope has surely gone

It either ran off with the milkman

Or hitchhiked further on

So now, you have no option

There’s only one thing left to do

You must create some new hope

And forget the one that flew

No time to waste – just time to sit

To mend and stitch and sew

And knit yourself a new hope

That will never ever go.

The Time I Got Lost

I’m standing by the sweets

And I shuffle on my feets

Now I see that mum was right

When we got into a fight

About how much they cost

The time I got lost

I think I might just sit

I’m not brave a bit

I’m in such a fix

‘cos I’m only six

(well, five and a half)

My tummy is in knots

The time I got lost

I wish that people cared

Now I’m getting scared

The cleaner pushed his mop

I couldn’t make him stop

And I got sploshed

The time I got lost

Corridors of food

But I wasn’t in the mood

Normally I like cheeses

But I am by the freezers

I’m afraid I’m going to cry

Frozen fish with one big eye

I’m in the ice caps of Iceland

Oh, why’d I let go her hand?

I fell down on my knees

Won’t someone help me please?

I was truly in the frost

The day I got lost.

And out among the toys

There were only naughty boys

And dinosaurs that roared

and trolls that made me bored

With goo dripping from his fangs

The monster – there, he hangs!

He thought he was the boss

The time I got lost

And now she runs towards me

Oh, look, it’s mummy

All she does is grins

My world no longer spins

So afraid I thought I’d be

That I did a little wee

But now I am found

I’ll soon be homeward bound

And all is not lost

The time I got lost.

Teabag Mystery

I found a teabag (old and dried) in my Busy Lizzies this week. No idea how it got there. The husband doesn’t know anything about it. Bit of a mystery, I thought, and it kept me going for a few days. But I love and hate mysteries with equal measure. So I thought, I’m going to work this one out if it kills me. Unless, I have a poltergeist that likes drinking tea, I have to think of another alternative, a logical solution.

Maybe I had a cup with a herbal teabag in it, from a recent previous beverage, which I filled with water, watered the plant, emptied both water and teabag into soil and voila, end of mystery. I do like solving mysteries. Sorry, poltergeist. Your days are numbered. It was fun while it lasted though.

I Love little Furry Things

I love little furry things

that whizz across the floor

That no one can identify

It makes me love them more

And if they have long tails

It doesn’t induce fright

And if they have big whiskers

It fills me with delight

I love little furry things

anything rodent shaped

That might crawl up your leg

And make the faint heart faint

I just don’t get it

Why are we scared of them?

They’re soft and they are fuzzy

From where did our fears stem?

Why do they scare the elephant

When it is so big?

Why do they scare the human race

When they’re the size of a small wig?

Oh, I love little furry things

That dart across the floor

It’s true, they nibble a lot

But they don’t shout or roar

I love little furry things

That get eaten by cats

They’re much smaller than us

So don’t kill them in traps

So, the moral of this story stands

Well, there is no moral really

Just be kind to those of us

Who are small and cute and furry.