I love you for MY Lady Irene
February the fourteenth day
is not the only day I say.
To my beloved I love you
I try show in every way
on every day and any day
my love for her is strong and true.
One day a year just will not do
because she is entitled to
those little words I’m glad to say.
In my own simple honest way.
I say I love you and it’s true
it’s something that I always do.
Because I think she needs to know
my love her for will always grow.
13-Feb-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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I Would If I Could
An old man sits on a public bench
And eyes up every passing wench.
Recalling sometimes wistfully
What life was like at twenty three.
When he was looking for romance
and was prepared to take a chance.
But now he is content to dream.
No longer has to plot and scheme.
His days of thrusting youth long gone
Although the urges linger on
He lacks the capability
To perform adequately.
He can't do what he used to do
It takes some getting used to
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Unfulfilled Expectations
Three score years and ten: They say
is the life span of a man.
Though it's no longer true today.
People have realised they can.
Defy the dire predictions
and need not die obediently.
To suit the statisticians.
I‘m fast approaching ninety three.
And still live independently.
Growing disgracefully
content to act rebelliously.
Although the statisticians all agree
I should have died long years ago.
Which proves how little that they know
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Worry Free
When I awake before the dawn
I seize the opportunity
To watch a new day being born.
A moment of tranquillity
Enabling me to clear my mind
Of stresses left from yesterday.
Such peace is very hard to find
And all too quickly fades away.
Eroded by conclusions drawn
Destroying the tranquillity.
WE had know briefly with the dawn
But sad to say temporarily.
Tomorrow morning possibly.
We will find time to simply be
For just one hour worry free.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Master work
The cello weeps a melody,
the woodwinds deeply sympathise
The violin a threnody
adds to the sobbing harmony.
A woman’s voice rich contralto
takes up the theme. A tale of woe
a male sings basso profundo.
The music peaks in crescendo
then descends, diminuendo.
The audience is moved to tears.
Stunned silence reigns because they know
such magic quickly disappears.
The curtain falls and they are left
Sad, grief stricken and bereft.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Airborne for philip housiaux
Always airborne an Albatross
can easily vast oceans cross
They eat and sleep upon the wing
and rarely land for anything.
But even Albatrosses mate
although more often isolate.
They come together as a pair.
You cannot raise chicks in the air.
But once the young have learnt to fly.
Received the freedom of the sky.
They the resume the seperate
life style they appreciate.
An Albatross prefers to be
left alone completely free.
18-Apr-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Who's a good boy?
A chocolate cake with frosting ice
is on the table tempting me.
I sit and think it would be nice
to eat it up entirely.
I dare not even have a slice
because it is not meant for me.
I’m not prepared to pay the price,
I know how angry Mom would be.
Perhaps she does not realise
that it amounts to cruelty.
To see that cake before my eyes
and know it is forbidden me.
I must resist I know I should
it is not easy being good.
27-Dec-07
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Mal de Mall
I wandered as a poet does
around a crowded superstore.
I was excited by the buzz
of people buying more and more.
Much more than what they need to buy
to celebrate the holiday.
I felt confused and wondered why.
So much would just be thrown away.
We at too much we drink too much
in general overindulge
Are we then so far out of touch
we disregard the fact we bulge
in places where should not do
from an aesthetic point of view.
1-Jan-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Hunger is a fine sauce
Nature intended me to be
an omnivore: That’s what I am.
I will make no apology
because I enjoy beef and lamb.
Though others may have different views.
I find no cause for argument
if they enjoy their meatless stews.
A vegetarian precedent.
I do as nature bids me to
I eat what is available
and feel no guilt because I do.
Eat meat and fish and vegetables.
We have no choice we have to eat
I see no fault in eating meat.
30-Dec-07
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Food glorious food for Friend Thad
The hunger pangs I feel are real.
My stomachs growling to be fed,
This is no quiet mute appeal
refuses to be quieted.
Nouveau cuisine just will not do
no pretty pictures on a plate
I really need something to chew
some prime beef steak to masticate.
My stomach clearly understands
exactly what it wants and needs
Expects me to obey its commands
and as always it succeeds.
A T bone steak with some French fries
My stomach usually satisfies.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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