Author: Sue Young

Possibility

The possibility of anything

Is never black or white

Many colours in the middle

Not just dark or light

The feasibility of something

That is the key

Mathematically, is it viable

How attainable will it be?

Some of us will go searching

In the dark, for years, we’ll grope

But what’s the probability

What’s the chance of hope?

Where’s the practicality

Of our most treasured goal

There is untold power

In the desire of our soul

You have to take part

Scientifically, that’s the case

Our odds do go up

When we take part in the race

Take the opportunity

When it comes near

Strengthen capability

Step up a gear

Fate and destiny

Will always play a part

If you’re spiritually minded

You’ll have a good head start

It’s really quite conceivable

Just between me and you

That, in eventuality

Your dreams can come true

I’ve Been Looking For Miracles In All The Wrong Places

I’ve been looking for miracles in all the wrong places

where nutrient rich soil was never there

where the ground was barren and rocky and bare

where weeds choked the stems that pushed from below

that strangled the plants that dared to grow.

I’ve been looking for miracles in all the wrong places

wherever it slips and slides, hope can’t take hold,

seeds can’t flourish

in Antartic cold.

The miracles I was seeking

only grow in the light

and can’t live where the air is foul

Where shadows fall

And demons prowl

But now…

Now, I’m looking for miracles

In all the right places

Ideal conditions

Not too far

Watered with kindness and patience and love

That’s where my miracles are.

Quote Of The Week

‘Sometimes it is the people no one can imagine anything of who can do the things that no one can imagine.’

–Alan Turing

Looking forward to fifty

I’m going to be turning fifty, this year. I don’t feel it. I don’t know whether to grow old gracefully or disgracefully. I’ve always been indecisive.

I looked up stuff about age last week (because I am sensitive about age now) and I learned so much! Some of the things I learned were…

You’re not allowed to say ‘elderly’ anymore. ‘Senior citizen’ is out and ‘retired’ is out the door. You can’t say ‘geriatric’ and I think that’s quite fair. ‘Pensioner’ is outdated and ‘advanced age’ – don’t go there. ‘Old people?’ No, can’t do that, as it euphemizes age. And that euphemism is negative, if you’ve lived a lot of days. So, what are we to do, to show respect for all the years? How do we put a stop to all our politically correct fears?

A lot of these words were bandied about, in certain times and phases but now ‘fossil’, ‘fogey’ and ‘codger’ are out, they’re not P.C phrases. ‘Older adult’ or ‘older person’ is the acceptable term these days, or simply ‘man’ or simply ‘woman’, followed by their age.

It’s about time, the PC World (not the computer store) said something nice about me, so if I’m an ‘older adult,’ then that’s what I’m happy to be.

Quote Of The Week

‘All my life I’ve been doing things for other people, looking after them, doing things to please them but now I want to be my own person in my own right and I’m no longer afraid of doing what I want to do…’

Puli (Sathnam Sanghera’s sister) from The Boy With The TopKnot by Sathnam Sanghera

Less Is More With You

I love you

Because you’re unexpected

Unpredictable

Just salty enough

Tangy enough

I spread you close

Lather you up

Against the butter

Against the toast

But not too much

Less is more with you

You come finely housed in curvaceous glass

Not everyone likes you

But if they like you, they love you

And if they don’t like you, they hate you

And can’t stand the smell of you

Let alone eat you

Some people are taken in by your cunning disguise

They see you all brown and sticky and gooey and think

you are a chocolate spread

And then they eat you, one big mouthful

You’re a nice surprise or a nasty shock

Depending on your outlook and tastebuds

I once was a little frightened of you

And once, I hated you.

But now, I love you, Marmite.

Beaver or Diva?

I overheard a conversation on the tram this week between a man and woman. This is how it went:

WOMAN: (LOOKING OUT THE WINDOW AND POINTING): She’s a diva.

MAN: (A LITTLE LOUDER): A beaver?

WOMAN: (A LITTLE LOUDER): A diva.

MAN: (MUCH LOUDER) A beaver?

WOMAN: (VERY MUCH LOUDER): No! A diva!

MAN: (VERY LOUD) What’s a diva?

WOMAN: (LOOKING OUT THE WINDOW AND POINTING): She is. (SIGHS & THEN QUIETLY) Oh, she’s gone now.