There is a street in every town that owns a house
called lonely. Then when your just passing by you might
just say, 'if only.
If only could mean a life time of thoughts but it does'nt cure
...
There was once a cat called
Trouble-some Mac'fee,
who had a bad habit,
of inviting himself to tea.
...
I love life but does life love me when I have to cook
tea for a family of three.
One wants this and one wants that and between
those wants I have to feed the cat.
...
Dont keep me hidden,
in this dark room,
please show me the sun,
so that I can bloom.
...
Born out of wedlock,
with a chip on his shoulder,
one that was as big,
as a cliff face, boulder.
...
A lonely heart sets the table but is she a Milly,
a Betty or a Mabel. Tea, coffee, cakes and ale
but outside there blows a gale. Sash cord windows
rattling like chains, thunder and lighting tormenting her
...
When Kids were kids it was a time for fun
playing cowboys and indians with a make
believe gun. To play in the garden and hunt for
the fairy dell, but all that's gone and the streets
...
When my children were small,
we played a great, wet weather game.
One where we would travel,
on the Great Imagination Train.
...
There is a workhorse that serves us well.
Its been around since time can tell.
It has a post at each end, to give support
with a stick in the middle, so it doesn't distort.
...
I get such a good feeling when the fire goes out
because there's no more smoke going up my spout.
Its no wonder I am an sick and tired of my job
because all day long I am boiling on this hob.
...
Dark shapes flitter in the dusk sky
but they are mammals, so why do they fly
The little furry flitter mouse that makes you jump
that clings on to a branch in one solid lump
...
Why do the the people call you Crabby
is it because your clothes are shabby.
Why have the people called you this awful name
I think their at fault and you are not to blame.
...
See him hover, over river and pond
just like a fairy waving a wand. He looks
quite stunning this graceful thing, flying
around on brightly coloured wing.
...
I have looked into history,
and seen a field.
It's a field where, no wheat will yield.
It's a field that saw a bloody war.
...
'What is she wearing tonight my friend! 'How the hell do I know
I am always at the end, it's just my luck when she buys something
new, I get shoved to the end of the queue.It's all right for you my
friends you get a weekly check, but poor old me has to hang in
...
Poor old Cracker stands all alone cold, hungry
and chilled to the bone, in a muddy medow
that is now his home.This chestnut brown horse
was once the pride of the race course, with his
...
I love to walk, down country lanes,
and listen to the sound of nature's call.
I do this from the start of spring,
right up to the fall.
...
I am sorry for all the trouble I have caused,
then Mum says' go back to school!
.'Oh! but Mum, do I have to,
everyone can be so cruel! So back to school
...
Off to war, went two young men one named Jack,
and the other Ben. Jack was strong a fierce fighting man,
where Ben was weak and always ran. Jack would cover him,
when the going got rough, but poor old Ben could never get tough.
...
I know an old tradesman who worked with sand and cement.
Now the story I am going to tell you turned out to be his lament.
His work was done to perfection built from row to row and he was
the very best bricky, the best you will ever know. when a job
...
i have written many poems but I have had only two plubished I started writing at school but because I am dislexick I gave it up. I love writing in any shape or form. give me a subject and i will write about it. I also write short stories and compositions.I was born in the south east of London and I lived there many years. Since moving to Norfolk I have written more, I enjoy the social side of history. I find it fun to read and also I get a lot of insperation from this subject. I am also a great catlover, I have three of my own. This is also another subject that I like writing about.)
A House Called Lonely (A Trilogy In Three Parts)
There is a street in every town that owns a house
called lonely. Then when your just passing by you might
just say, 'if only.
If only could mean a life time of thoughts but it does'nt cure
a lonely house and all its faults.
Boarded up windows and tiles gone from the roof, graffiti
painted by a rebelious youth.
Such a lonely house and an oh such a tired one,
one that has lost all it's fun.
Stairs and rafters all gone to pot all that is left
is wood worm and dry rot.
No children playing in the garden, it's just a house condemend
by the council without no pardon. Poor lonely house someones
forgotton dream, now describing lifes social scene.
This lonely house stands in the way because their building
a By Pass or a new motorway.
The house called lonely could be any where, in the town, the
country or city square.
Even in your street there's a house called lonely just waiting
for you to say 'if only'
Thank you for your comments on my 'old-age' poem...Of course I don't feel I am old, this poem was written with tonque in cheek...I am feeling older....but not old of course. My life gets better with each year so truly I enjoy the aging process more than most would think. Sincerely, Mary
Sylvia. I love your style. You are a really sweet person. Your poems are a picture of your character. Hugs Jan
If there is ANYONE at all on this site who can find fun in the stinky side of life, then Sylvia it is! ! It doesn't matter what subject she chooses, whether it is her cat, Mr. Pong, the neighbor's garbage...you name it, and Miss Rosie can find the fun in it. But that is not all she writes about. She finds the joy in a beautiful day, the love she shares with others, just life itself. She is so much fun to know, and I treasure her friendship so very much! Scarlett
one of the better writers at poem hunter...better than pretentious people who write incomprehensible crap...
All great writes are really posed to in its simplicity and in its vivid colours of depictions. A travel to own past life of lyrics and lovely nature - driving to a unknown splurgely mad loves....Poet also makes new homely experiments with her own verses...
Sylvia has a great young sense of humour and is full of praise and encouragement for others. Her poems are varied and I do love Macafee the cat poem so if you have time read it. Its called The cat who came to tea. Bravo Sylv.x
Sylvia, your poetry is unique, sometimes I don't know whether to laugh or cry or manage both at once - so it's really good that you're going to be published so that others can enjoy you being you! Best wishes, Michael