Yellow
She loved yellows,
pinks and golds
and we thought
she'd live forever
so when we saw
her fading
and her colours
they were jading
we planted
daffodils.
They're all bobbing
in the garden,
pretty headed
flowers
but her light
has gone forever,
deep beneath
the gold corn hills
Perhaps by chance
[...] Read more
poem by Ruth Walters
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In The Showers
It was naughty to pinch all his clothes
and him all so wet and bedraggled
but he should have thought twice
when he chose to entice
all us girls into the men's showers.
Mind you it was ever so funny
to watch as he cried for his mummy
and even more fun as we pinched his pert bum
while he hopelessly searched for his trousers.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Black Paint
Who daubed black paint
upon this canvass?
Come out and stand before us.
We shall interrogate you,
stand and admit your crime!
This canvass, once so clean,
is tarnished by your hand.
Do you claim freedom of expression?
This is no monument to art?
I have a theory, be it good or bad
it's just a crazy artist who got mad.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Alive, alive o
The beef joint was a cow,
the pork chop was a pig,
you'd never know it now,
when served with garden peas.
The rack of ribs were lamb,
cuddly, soft and sweet
but my boys found it sad,
I'd give them that to eat.
Oh lost and sad am I
when questioned on the sausage
for in its skin a mix of things
and I don't dare to comment.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Closed Door
If I were an open book
and truly let you see
what hides behind the words
and hides the real, true me,
would you use this knowledge
for the good or bad or worse?
And if the later surely then
your soul would be quite cursed?
Then that would be my fault
for letting you inside,
and so I close the door,
the door I hide behind.
poem by Ruth Walters
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The Forgotten (especially for Karen)
I buried you years ago
consciously interring
every painful thought
beneath the earth.
I got on with life
hell bent to forget you,
letting the walls of time
grow wide and tall.
Then some jerk
disturbed the grave.
Oh what folly
he did make.
Now you have arisen
and all my ogres too
What am I to do?
Damn those memories of school!
poem by Ruth Walters
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An Insight
He dressed up in silk stockings,
stilettos and black bra
then did a little prance,
a dance, a wiggle!
He liked to make love in her clothes
and though it was 'a lark',
truth was, she thought him soft,
but had a giggle.
D'you know to add some fun
she wore his dicky bow,
at which his laughing stopped __
well men are fickle.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Silenced
She hissed, accused and riled me,
infuriatingly lied to me,
treated me like a fool
until at last she fell to silence
as I slid across the floor to her,
slithered up to the meaty, know it all
and as it is my nature to,
my mother did, my sisters too,
spat venom from my mighty jaws
as only fiery Cobras do
and now she talks no more.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Fishing
There were lots of tiddlers,
little minnows,
a few catfish
and a small group
of piranhas,
yeh, lots of slippery fish.
She spotted the sharks
as soon as she walked in
but the one she had
her eye on was a fine,
handsome Puffer.
She slid up to his side,
slipped him the line
and reeled him in.
He took the bait willingly
and was hooked.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Parks
Parks are special places,
where old ladies
reminisce
and lovers woo.
They're little oasis of pleasure
away from the daily grind,
the mainstream
where the sun peeps through.
Loud traffic noise
is replaced by birdsong
worry and stress
by peace
and time can wait,
be pushed aside to stew
so you and I, just for a while,
can be free…..
poem by Ruth Walters
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