How Many Fleeting Memories? How many different ways Can I paint the picture that you need How many hues of death will you view Before that view is all that it can be? How many times can I call out In silent desperate pleas How many displaced souls must suffer Before the world will set us free How many bombs are left To destroy the splinters in your minds eye How many young and innocent Must cry out for their mother as they die? Must we be just another page In the news of yesterday Or just a number that is meaningless To #quote in perpetuity away Must we be a lesson in the history books For your children and for theirs Of how not to turn your head Of how not to show you cared? Must we be just a training ground A theatre of such might A falsehood of a super power What makes our misery their right? The time is nearly here for us The darkness soars above our heads Will you remember this, our final plea When we plea no longer A fleeting memory put to bed?

All Gone South! When I was a lad I had it all Bright lively eyes Skin taught I stood tall My Pecs did there job impeccably My Abs were well cut And as for my Glutes Man! That was a butt! But now I am older Looking back in this glass Everything's sagging Including that arse! My eyes have grown dim I need Bins to see The Guns I once had Look more like a pea The Pecs are still there of a sorts My kids call them my Moobs They take great delight In wobbling them too! No more washboard admirers A barrel in its place So what was it all for This Gymnasium waste? Was it pure vanity Concern for my health To emulate Arnie To springboard from shelf? Was it proving a point Or a fashion or fad Or just while away time Because that's what I had And as I look at youth today The chests that are pumped The ape-like way The butt that is tight The shakes that they quaff I remember my Dad And now know why he scoffed!

Can I Still Love My heart is like a rose Tightly rapped in history's petals Waiting to be warmed by the summer sun Waiting to taste the dew of sustenance that is love by any other name Waiting to be fed, To become free To blossom again And yet it is trapped by pain #life's secatours have cut hard and deep Providing enough hope of growth But not enough hope to flourish Shine, shine on me Strengthen the roots of my despair Nourish me with the hands of a mother Lift me to you and whisper to me inspiration So that I may unfurl and show the world I am still here I can still love

Unity In Difference To show you have a voice To show you have a heart To show you have a wicked side That brings an audience to laugh To show that in all your difference You still have something more inside And though you do not look as they On the wave of #life you ride You showed the world tonight That you too need the same as I To contribute with meaning And not be questioned - why? So we salute the missing voice We stand up to cheer your gift And we stand at last together For those differences many live

Twilight Years So when exactly are the twilight years I mean I still function pretty well I can still sink several pints of beer I can still get up while horizontal And at times when vertically inclined Albeit the opportunities I am these days struggling to find! I can still break into a trot But I admit it could be seen as a rolling waddle I can recite what happened in my working day But yesterday’s, would be somewhat of a struggle! I still have all me teeth But my kids have great fun pointing out me moobs Flatulence tends to frequent But I can still chew me adult food Me glasses do look like bottle ends My car still flaunts go faster stripes I even stand to pee now and again But make sure at hand are wipes So when are the twilight years Are they yet to come or have they gone Not sure I really give a damn Is that right or wrong? WND 2018