Thursday, December 4

A Poem For Thursday

I have gone over to the dark side during the last few months.....the dark side?.....you know Face Book, Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr Pinterest, Flickr et al .....oh how deeply have I fallen!
Seduced by the instant, by the quick sell, by the new......how sweet can seem the instantaneous reaction!
But blogger calls me and I recognise the empty gap can only be filled by the writing from the heart and the poetry of life.
Yeah...yeah I hear you say....lets just call a spade a spade.....unfaithful!
Part of the problem is the fact that most of the above goes on from my iPad and I've just today discovered how to upload a post on it to blogger! I'm excited. Now that winter is finally in full flow I resent sitting in the colder room by the french windows with the PC. The fire is a far far better heat to sit in front of.
But from now on......hopefully...I shall pass this post of happenings on to blogger......as well as you know all those other gratifying social sites.

The Southern Town
When I walk into this southern town
I know I'm old
This town is young
New life is everywhere.
Young business people inhabit new cafes
And prop iPads up on Italian coffee tables.
They talk with easy confidence
And silver laughter.
Accents polished
Into general comprehension.
Whether Northern or southern
European or Brit
They move south or west
To join that melange of ideas.
While I move to the left or the right
To let them pass.
They know their place and are secure in the knowing.
I know my place.
I once walked and talked as they do.
I kept a middle line on the pavement
And the old and the very young
The out-of-work and the stranger let me pass.
Those days go and go for all
They should enjoy them while they can.
They don't know that inside old heads
Live young women
Young men.
Who team with new thoughts
And new ideas
But have little time left to perfect them.
We were taught not to demand when we were young.
Now we find the demands hard to endure.
Now we walk with other grey heads
To playgrounds for the young.
Standing back from the bustling parents
We grandmen and women who watch and wait
We know the power of waiting.
Know that it's strength is greater than impatience.
Time to leave the playground behind.