Morality’s Compass

So stubborn and rebellious,
Broke almost every rule,
He never got to bed on time,
He acted like a fool.

Proverbially, he was the one
That if he’d have been the first,
There’d be no other children, for,
He really was the worst.

Mixing in bad company,
He made his parents shiver
With thoughts of what those substances
Were doing to his liver.

But then, at last, he met a girl
Who was up to the task;
Who captured both his mind and heart;
Who saw beyond the mask.

They settled down and had some kids
And learned what troubles are;
And wanting, now, to meet their needs,
Began to raise the bar.

And now he knows the daily grind
Of bottles, diapers, meals,
He wouldn’t change it for the world,
Or anything on wheels.

He changed his life and learned respect,
Responsibility.
And though he still likes to have fun,
No more does he run free.

He sits at home, now, of an eve
And contemplates his lot,
And sometimes, yes, he misses it,
The alcohol and pot.

But then he looks into the room,
Sees children fast asleep,
And realises with a smile,
This joy he’d like to keep.

For after all is said and done,
There’s nothing in this life
More precious than the loyal love
Of children and a wife.

**********************************

My last post looked at the sad side of life and parenthood; how disappointing it can be when children don’t acknowledge and act on the wisdom of their parents. It was probably a bit depressing! So I thought it would be nice to look at the other side, this time.

So often, we focus on the bad things in life, but the reality is that, if we look for the good, we will, inevitably find it. Although I lament the mistakes that children make when they ignore their parents’ advice, I am also keen to acknowledge the fact that many young people can turn their lives around. To such young ones I say, “Well done. This poem is a tribute to you; and to your parents, who never gave up hope.”

Pride’s Compass

She doesn’t know
The pain we feel when we see
The sadness in her eyes
That ought to shine so bright.

She doesn’t see
The tears we hold back,
The worry that racks our minds
Whether she is near or far.

She doesn’t understand
Why we should be concerned
About her welfare,
About her happiness.

She only feels
The anger deep within
That stems from knowing
She should have listened.

She only knows
That now there’s no way out,
Unless she finds the strength
To accept the help we offer.

And maybe, then, she’ll know
That all we said and all we did,
We did with best intentions,
For her protection and benefit.

She won’t accept
That we could know
The consequences
Of a life thrown away.

So now she cries
An endless stream
Of tears that will not wash
The sorrow from her heart.

She only knows
That there’s no going back.
Her path is set
By pride’s compass.

Here It Comes

How quickly things change. It may be the weather, or it may be our circumstances. But we must be prepared for change.

Storm Clouds

How quickly things change.

Blue sky swamped by stormy clouds.

Here it comes, again.


How quickly things change. It may be the weather, or it may be our circumstances. But we must be prepared for change.

Continue reading “Here It Comes”

The Box

Couple Walking on Porthcawl Beach

Memories and feelings
All wrapped up in cotton wool
And bubble wrap;
Gently placed inside the box
With polystyrene pieces
And packs of desiccant;
Sealed and marked,
“Do not destroy,”
And archived.

For now, I have no need
Of memories or feelings;
Now that you’ve gone
And left me all alone
To face the bleakness of a future
Filled with sadness,
Filled with tears,
Filled with grief,
And uncertainty

Maybe, some day,
Our great grandchildren
Will look inside
To marvel at the love we shared.
“How quaint that they should be
Together, Oh so long!”
And give us pride of place
Upon their shelves
And mantels.

Or maybe you and I
Will reunite
To open up the box
And let the memories rekindle
The love that bound us
Together, forever;
To set the feelings free
To flood our hearts
And souls.

‘These three remain:
Faith, hope, and love;’
Anchors for this lonely soul
To which I cling with calloused hands
That long to feel
The softness of your cheeks.
Faith, hope, and love
That soon we’ll reunite
In Paradise.

The Treasures of Days Gone By

In an age when we have been trained to discard things very quickly and replace them with something new, would it not be good to remember that the discarded item was once useful, valuable, necessary, even. Often, when we make a new purchase, we praise it highly, boast about the “bargain” that we struck, and tell others that we don’t know how we ever managed without it. So what changed? Why is a perfectly useful item no longer necessary? Like this door, have we forgotten its value?

Ivied Door at St Fagans

Old doorway now closed.

Ivied frame sealed shut with age.

It once was useful.


We were sitting at the picnic table, enjoying our lunch on a visit to the Museum of Welsh Life at St Fagans when I noticed this old doorway, surrounded by ivy. I was struck by the way the ivy frames the door, and the contrasts between the various colours and materials.

Continue reading “The Treasures of Days Gone By”