THE DEATH OF MAY

That special month we know as May,
Is over now, no more to stay.
Buttercup-meadows, stain trousers yellow,
Midst verdant pastures that now are mellow.

The heavy scent of Hawthorn bush,
The flight of rabbits in a rush.
Small birds chirping in the tree,
The busy buzzing of bumble-bee

Swooping Swallows have returned once more,
From that far-off distant shore.
The cows out at last in Summer's sun,
With grass to eat and room to run.

The smell of Garlic all around,
Those green shoots sprouting from the ground.
The dainty scent of pink Mayflower,
Grows stronger with each fleeting hour.

Horse-chestnut flowers all creamy-white,
The start of conkers for boys' delight.
A puffs a tick and a puffs a tock,
That tells the time by a Dandelion-clock.

The Ash the last to bloom this year,
Thought it had died, that was our fear.
The bleating sheep they seem to say,
"It's not long now until next May."

MEMORIES IN THE ATTIC

Black and white and colour too,
These images we see of you,
When you were young with curly locks,
Just photographs in an old shoe box.

Writing books look scribbled now,
How we learnt to write we'll not know how.
Those reading books of "Mick and Spot",
To your own kids you read a lot.

Your school reports you dreaded then,
For English you got four out of ten.
"Must do better" the teacher said,
These are the words that your mum read.

Your hockey stick's against the wall,
For rounders there's a bat and ball.
The trophy that your team won,
"Congratulations and well done."

There's dolly there and Ted as well,
Of good times they will ring a bell.
It's time to go you've things to do,
None of these memories you will rue.

ACROSS THE SEA

My love has gone across the sea,
To where the sun sets in the West,
He is the man I love the most,
The man I love the best.

I'll never know the reason why,
No farewell he had bidden,
His reasons he'd kept to himself,
His thoughts they were well hidden.

I'll dream of him all every night,
Till he returns to me,
When we're together once again,
So happy we will be.

**

Items marked ** were originally replies to postings made by John Goacher who can be found at http://tykonia.blogspot.com/

DOGS**

I hate dogs! They bark, they crap all over the place, but most of all I'm frightened to death of them. Big un's, little un's, black un's, white un's, everyone of them puts the fear of God into me.I must have been about seven(or eight) and I was out on my bike going up Salterforth Drag towards the quarries that you will remember up there. I was pushing my bike(it's a bloody steep hill is that)when I got to the spot where there was a drinking trough for the horses, when a collie dog came running towards me, I bent down and started stroking it, when all of a sudden it grabbed me by the hand and bit my fingers, drawing blood. Being only seven(or eight)it hurt, and I cried.Whatever my plan was for the day was cancelled immediately (what was a seven or eight-year-old lad doing out on his own miles from home)and off I cycled home to tell my mum. Cannot remember what transpired, but I do know that the dog had been in a fight and had a raw wound on its neck, and of course when I was stroking it I touched the wound, hence the beast attacking me.So ever since I have been frightened to death of dogs and have many tales of my encounters with them. I have had a brief respite the last five years since I had a replacement hip and I walk with a stick, I feel more secure when in the presence of them for I can defend myself with the stick.

IF I SHOULD EVER LOSE YOU NOW...

You are my very precious friend,
You mean so much to me.
If I should ever lose you now,
So unhappy I would be.

We've been together so many years,
We've had our ups and downs,
If I should ever lose you now,
You'd turn my smiles to frowns.

The years keep passing day by day,
Our lives they do unfold,
If I should ever lose you now,
There's a story to be told.

MR MOLE

Magical, mystical, mysterious mole,

His house hides hidden, here's his hole.

The tracks they take the tractor tills,

Makes Mr Mole make more molehills.