3rd October 2024 • The HERALD • Page 85 v THE NEXT HERALD IS OUT ON 24TH OCTOBER v Poets Corner HERALD RECRUITMENT PRE-WAR BABY by Jim Dolbear© Goodbye! by Dorothy Lockyer© COLD COMFORT by Jim Dolbear© Old Bill is just sitting there, All alone no one to care. No re to heat ice cold room, No lighting sits in the gloom. Gloved hands wrapped in soup stained coat No kin for him to devote. Lives on just soup and bread, Another day he will dread. Goes to bed on starless night, No one there to share his plight. e cash stopped for Winter fuel, Why could someone be so cruel. To take away his comfort zone, How many old folk will die alone. How many times through life do we say “Goodbye”? What is its meaning; do we understand why? Without a thought, glibly falling from the lips Just as if we are ordering fish and chips! Yet it’s expressing good wishes from the heart Saying “May God be with you” as we depart. It can be profound or light hearted as well A cheerful tone, or stroke of summoning knell. Babies, quick to learn, soon know how to express Bye bye, so adults are suitably impressed. In a native tongue, often convey “Goodbye” “Auf Wiedersehen”, “au revoir”, “adieu” we sigh. We can part with the words “cheerio”, “farewell” Or “cheers”, “toodle-oo”, it depends where we dwell. I’ll finish this odd ode with a final quip “Adios”, “ciao”, and a final “toodle–pip”! To Edith Jane a baby boy, Now sixth in line to poverty. Where hand me downs were all the rage, And something new a novelty. Two years go by, outbreak of war, Jackboots trampling through Europe land. Britain now set to join the fight, A line is drawn deep in the sand. Sirens sound, bombers overhead, Gun flashes light the night time sky, And we are deep in our shelter, Wait for the all clear by and by. The crackling battery radio, Announce that the war is won. Tears of joy,then hugs and smiles, For the future has just begun. Jack Trent is back has fought his war, There are parties in every street. But sad Mrs Barnwell sits there, Son Bill no longer there to meet. NETLEY by Phil Santus© e land is full of ghosts, sequestered in buildings, in place names and in tradition. e chapel is all that remains of the military hospital that bordered the Royal Victoria shore. Alongside is the Abbey at Netley, ruined but still potent with history, and a sharp contrast to the ve tower blocks that control the unruly skyline like blue cubes from a maths lesson. I have memories of parents and of grandparents, but the stories of the past, that I would like to know, are lost to me. ere are only ghosts in the memory, and the records are incomplete. e centuries linger in old places, establishing the achievements, the joys and the sorrows of the lives that were lived. ere is a lineage and heritage, rich in ideas and drama. Rearranged Arrangements by David K Wilson© In her eyes was the compromise Of the things she could not change For a world bereft and widows left And arrangements rearranged Marriage banns and wedding plans On hold postponed delayed ‘Till a brighter dawn on a brand new morn And a day to end all days Men were called to man the guns Their country was at war The quick goodbyes the tearful eyes The closing of many doors The fading footsteps on the path One last wave one photograph For some a march to victory For others unknown destinies Days and nights without a word Not knowing what to do Perhaps take a job go out to work To meet others just like you Try to hide the fear inside Staying cheerful through and through But the same old doubts and uncertainties Forever haunt the same old you His leave was grand hand in hand You strolled the leafy lanes He stalled your questions of the war Said I’ll be back home again Then back to war just like before Those footsteps on the path That final wave that final smile And the unsigned photograph A motorbike in the long dark night The knocking on the door The please sign here, I’m sorry dear Brought the end of all before Shattered dreams of long planned schemes Now in tatters on the floor But life goes on its in the song It’s the awfulness of war Over many years and countless tears The sadness begins to fade Sunlight shines upon your world As it did on his first parade But memories always lingers When lives are torn apart And on certain days in certain ways Love overwhelms your heart It was in her eyes the compromise Of the things she could not change In a world bereft just widows left All arrangements rearranged! The copyright of all poems that are published in The Herald belong to the author and must NOT be reproduced without their permission WISHES by Marian Connolly© If I were granted three wishes I wonder what I’d choose Should I wish for money? No that would just give me the blues I’d wonder if I was liked For my money, all that wealth I’d rather know my friends were true And just like me for myself. Or would I wish for a big boat So that I could sail away To far o distant countries Just set o any day But why would I want to travel I’m happy in my own home So I’ll leave all that to others Who always long to roam. I’ve got my health and happiness So why should I wish for more So I’ll wish for peace throughout the world With love from shore to shore And hope everyone nds contentment Before my life is through Oh wouldn’t that be wonderful If only those wishes come true.
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