Seventy Years Ago
The Third of September
Nineteen thirty-nine is a
Day I remember well.
I travelled on a Southdown bus
From Purbrook to Cosham,
And my memory rings a bell.
The bus suddenly stopped.
The driver had bad news to tell.
His voice was loud and clear
All passengers could hear.
'Everyone off - it has to be.
We are at war with Germany'.
September 1939...the month
of my eleventh birthday.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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Every-Year Valentine
Jesus, Dear Jesus,
We pray unto Thee
true words from the
heart of humanity...
singing to heaven
with hymnal refrain
sending thanks for
the angels as they
comfort our pain.
A mountain is lower
with Thee as our guide;
gentle Jesus forever
in our lifetime abide.
valentine roses...we
accept them from Thee;
they grow in our garden,
God's gift to humanity.
[...] Read more
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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April Tears Were Falling
On a late April evening
In two thousand and two,
The breezes blew southerly
Beneath sky of pale blue...
Our Queen Mother's funeral was over
England's fair Lady we shall ever adore;
Her fine regal spirit ascended on high
To heaven's sweet golden shore,
Where reigned her dear Love, the King
Who died many years before.
May God in His unfailing kindess
Take care of them both evermore.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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Europe - 8th May 1945
~~ Second World War ~~
From the 'Official Declaration'
In September thirty-nine
Until the 'Settlement of Peace'
On eighth of May, forty-five,
The lights were out in Britain
It seemed an eternity, and
Victims suffered dreadfully
And undeservedly...
Dark days and nights took over
From John O'Groats to Dover sea
In the Second World War,
Those unforgettable years
Of the Twentieth Century.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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Chinese and Butterfly
Poetic Style: Acrostic
Larkspur flower ~ attractive lavender blue
Annual delphinium, very popular in bloom...
Razzle-dazzle aura in flower arrangement show
Kaleidoscope of beauty where'er the petals grow.
Splendid and fast-growing, reaching for the sun
People passing by, admire the precioius one.
Under Arizona sky, desert larkspur is ever nigh
Romance of spring, 'Chinese and Butterfly'.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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A Bitter Pill
Terrorism can be so frightening
A Black September of our times
And 'Bali' was one of the names
added to the list of crimes.
Terrorism is often so 'sudden'
No warning sirens are heard.
1939 had sirens and shelters
But terrorism is shockingly absurd.
This bombing outrage has a history
Of factions who kidnap and kill
And raids easily gain momentum
And the resulting horror is a Bitter Pill.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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Newlywed Romance
Acrostic.
Valley of dreams 'mid the hills and the dales
Azure the sky, and green are the vales.
Love lingers there, in the afternoon air,
England has never seemed quite so fair.
Nostalgia enters in, as the violins play
Tantalizing melodies from a bygone day.
Inflow of confetti brings happiness and fun
Newlywed romance in the February sun...
Exhilerating feeling. God's will has been done.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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Sugar Sweet
Baby ~ baby ~ baby
pass the sugar baby;
pass it, don't say maybe
and love will sweeter be.
Kisses come with dawning
sugar-sweet the morning
oh, joy of my desiring
there's no-one else for me.
I am music, play me,
I'm your morning melody;
my heart is in each serenade
sugar-sweet for thee.
So baby ~ baby ~ baby
Let's not be contrary, with
sugar sweet there will be
a love to last eternally.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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The Sunny Months
Poets write of May and June,
But seldom mention warm July,
And August is neglected too
Is this because few words will rhyme?
July and August spell out summer
When children play upon the sand,
Away from lessons ~ life is joyful,
Free from teacher's binding hand.
September is a lovely month
Leaves take flight along the lane.
Summer's over, back to lessons
School friends smiling once again.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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At The First Light Of Day
I now create poems at daybreak
Each one has a sunshiny theme,
Capturing thoughts as soon as I wake
My text resembles a dream.
I consider friends over the ocean
As I write my poetry in motion.
Birdsong is sweet at the dawning
As I welcome the first light of day
And words overflow without warning
~ I think I have found a new way ~
Writing verse with care and devotion
The story of Poetry In Motion.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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