Look at me
Butterfly wings brush my skin
My thoughts shout

A blog to showcase the intricacies of poetry. To explore a little of the human condition and to highlight the poetry of Samantha Beardon.
Look at me
Butterfly wings brush my skin
My thoughts shout

Feel the rhythm feel the beat
Sense the music adding heat
Feel the rhythms feel the beat
Sense the musical mystique
Music for your every mood
Exciting times or ambrosia food
Music calming feeds the soul
Energising, lose control
Pick the song that makes you sad
Then the one, that makes you glad
Instrumental or song that taps your toes
Waltz, Jive , chill or snooze
Poetry is music made of words
Rhythm and beat can still be heard
Making music in the mind
Pictures and sounds so divine
Feel the rhythms feel the beat
Music for your soul, just can’t be beat
Threads of sound
Woven around
Feel the rhythm feel the beat
Sense the music adding heat
Feel the rhythms feel the beat
Sense the musical mystique
The blues came by to spy out homes
For cold and dark to make some groans
They are nasty spikey crawly things
Hah they dont even have proper wings
But I know how to make them run
Tis me that’s was going to have some fun
I find a smile and let it out
Hah they are already wobbling about
I open up my happiness box
Where I found some goodies but left the sox
I find a memory of fun
Savour the feeling, see them run
I count some good things in my life
Push away the feelings of angst and strife
My feel good hormones broke the dam
From now on I am the main man
Those blues are becoming extremely tan
Happiness is a funny thing
The strangest things can make us zing
A smile an act
The use of tact
A meeting of minds
The sharing of lines
A hand held out
A teasing bout
A care thats shared
A friend thats cared
Natures beauty
Doing ones duty
Working out
A sexy bout
Its hard to define the happiness rhyme
It changes with the day and time
its certain that good friends will play
A part in happiness every day !
Fifty years, where has it gone
Left with lifes myriad ghosts and many lines of song
Fifty years since we all arrived
To start our nurse training, young vibrant and alive
A group of girls who had never met
Thrown together to mesh,to blend into a safety net
Three years of training, working and living close together
Some bonded close, but all formed a bond that revives what ever
Disparate interests and backgrounds at the start
Each keen to learn the nursing art
Fifty years of love and life have passed
Marriage, families, life’s travails, but all have still plyed their craft
Fifty years celebrated with chat and reminisce
Each adding memories to the mix, giving us all a glimpse
Of the time that made lasting changes to the mix
Fifty years that is quite a fix
That perhaps helped form those girls, into women of strength
Who have continued joy, caring and compassion thence
Fifty years yet still those girls are standing there
Maybe a little changed but still essentially the same, I declare
Fifty years still able to meet
Well girls ain’t that quite a feat?
This is the story of a group of women who started to train as nurses in June 1966 at a hospital in England. Who all married had families and who all continued to work most for another 40 years as nurses. They met last week to celebrate their 50 year reunion of meeting and training. This is my tribute to them.
The bubble has been burst
Will that be the worst
Life gets in the way
Almost every day
Changes put a strain
On relationships normal chain
He/she can make you sad
Also make you mad
Love is but a guide
You cannot run and hide
What is this nebulous thing
The emotion that pulls our string
Attraction, sex and lust
May well just go bust
The underlying theme
That makes our eternal dream
Is a perfect symbosis
With absolutely no neurosis
Its a rare and perfect beast
Easy to become deceased.
In order to share our intimate fantasies
Have to, have trust,to stop the tragedies
Ideas unlocked exciting immense
Wildness explored feelings intense
So many situations we could try out
Sharing ideas, time and about
Making the pictures held in our heads
Come alive and become real instead
Partners in pleasure trying our dreams
Rising so high within the jet stream
Ideas so sensual,so carefree, so freeing
Maintaining excitement and a relationship very intriguing
Are we in charge of our fantasies
Those ideas that steer us away from reality
Do we need these ideas we create in our minds
To balance our lives,to enable us to strive
Fantasies come in all shades and hues
Travel, a new job, a lover in the news
Is there a dilemma in keeping them tight
Should we share with our partners, shine in some light
But what about the dark fantasies
Should they be shared, or would that erase moralities
So many situations which of them is right
Hide them or share them, fantasy flight
Sending Ripples across the Cosmos
Turning Words to Actions
Energised by mind pictures
Voraciously sampling life
Ecstatically Dreaming
Grasping for the stars
No deja vu
Let’s fly
Elie Wise.