Daydreams
Daydreams are precious they give us a goal,
A hope for tomorrow and warmth for the soul.
Cherish them, help them to grow,
Handle them carefully, never let go.
Life has its problems but hope can revive,
So look to the future, keep dreams alive.
May your good angel go with you each day,
Protecting you in darkness and guiding your way.
May you travel cheerfully with brightness all around,
Your journey successful, returning safe and sound.
May your good angel bring you home with happy thoughts
To keep, then fill the night with healing peace and deep,
Refreshing sleep.
S Couch, Darlington.
Cold Beauty
The frail snowdrop bells looked lost
Amongst the blades of grass all white with frost.
One could think they'd been foolishly bold
To face February's weather harsh and cold.
All summer and autumn they've lain beneath the sod
Where many a careless foot has trod,
And now in bitter freezing days
They parade their blooms along the ways.
ED Bowen, Darlington.
Victorian Values
At school my teacher used to say
That in good Queen Victoria's day
The British nation, proud and strong
Bestrode the world, could do no wrong.
She loved her people, we were told,
Her soldiers, sailors, brave and bold
Established peace where war had been,
The greatest Empire ever seen.
But when my life at school was done
I started reading just for fun
The books I never read at school
Which questioned Vicky's "glorious rule".
They told of children underground
In deep dark pits to slavery bound,
Reared in the slums of smoke-filled towns
Far from the world of thrones and crowns.
In cotton mills they worked long hours
Far from the fields and trees and flowers,
Deprived of daylight, sweet fresh air,
Of Britain's Empire unaware.
The workhouse catered for the folk
Without a home and "stony broke",
A grim existence, comfortless
For those grown old, and penniless.
"God bless the poor," the good Queen said,
Then said her prayers and went to bed
Whilst God on high upon His throne
Could only weep and grieve and groan.
J Stephenson, East Herrington.
A Time Of Year
Sun fire, ice cold
rule a land like this.
Wind rush and hailstone
among the autumn bliss.
Run out rush in
hunched back to steal.
Away from winter torment
far away from summer's feel.
Dark the night steals day
dark the day gives way.
Its light falling like soldiers
that children put away.
Ice that bites and deadens
a grip no man can match.
But nature's care softens
daffodils, a summer path.
Once was black is white
once was white is green.
Winter shows forgotten
Summer waits to be seen.
Tony Cooney, Fairfield, Stockton.
Love
Love is red like rose
Petals,
It smells like sweet
Smelling rose,
It tastes like strawberries
And champagne,
It sounds like a choir
Of angels,
It feels like thousands
Of soft feathers,
Love lives in my heart.
Sarah Pearson, Howden-le-Wear.
New Road
I just saw you race past,
Your eyes gleamed from the sun's cast,
Those hours we knew could never last
Outside of daydreams.
I know you from photographs,
In glass frames with gaping cracks.
I see you and I still laugh
For the memories.
They tell me all you ever needed
Was to be lost. Maybe you succeeded,
Though I didn't read it
That way, not I.
So I saw you in my way,
The only way you're there to stay,
For there's a new road each day
To follow.
Ryan Grey, Middleton in Teesdale.
Escomb School Days
I was born and bred at Etherley Moor,
The year was 1930.
When I went to school I got the cane
Because my hands were dirty.
The old headmaster didn't waver,
Said he was working to the rule,
He didn't know I had to feed the pigs and hens
While on my way to school.
Escomb's still a school today,
The same old walls and schoolyards
Where we used to laugh and play.
Those 1940 wartime days were hard
The classroom windows crisscrossed with tape
In those dark and gloomy days
To stop the glass from flying
In so many different ways.
I'm in my 70s now and went back To where I once did dwell.
Those walls of the old houses
Could have many tales to tell,
But the old houses have all gone now,
Farley's Farm and blacksmithy too
And in their place stood houses
So smart, brand spanking new.
F Wallis, Barnard Castle.
Jedi Jim
A Jedi is Jim, there he goes, that's him,
Lightsabre flashes into life,
On planets he bounds, strange creatures dumbfound,
They tell him: "Earth man, get a life."
Says he once met Darth Vader when he was a sailor,
But then he was into the light,
He did a bad deal, stitched up like a seal
Darth Vader, he turned to the night.
Some say he's a classic, just out of Jurassic
And that his mind is right on the rim,
But Jim doesn't care, he looks up: "It's out there."
And he knows that the force is with him.
It's of no great surprise that when a Jedi dies,
The life force is sucked out with a straw,
It's a major drawback and a shame there's no comeback,
It's tough that the Force has a flaw.
Jim Nunn, Carrville, Durham.
Old Age Has Something To Do With It
I climb the stairs then stand and stare
wondering whatever I'm doing there.
Now I've burned the breakfast toast
going to retrieve the morning post.
I'd better sit down with a cup of tea
while the machine does all the washing for me.
Angry tears spilled from my eyes,
I've forgotten to switch it on, I cry.
Old age has something to do with It, my dear.
It's spouse's turn to case a bewildered look,
He can't find the ticket for his library book.
He scratches his head and tries in vain
to find his spectacles once again.
"They are on your nose," I gleefully shout.
Old age has something to do with it, no doubt.
Mary Wright, Shildon.
Monkeys
Look at all those monkeys,
Jumping in their cage,
I wish they would be quiet
And overcome this rage.
Watch them jump,
Watch them pounce,
They will fall,
Then they will bounce.
Give them some music.
Hire a magician.
Play them rock 'n' roll.
Make a competition.
Give them food.
Do all you can.
We support Man U,
So make them a fan.
Ask what they want,
Or what they need,
If they want a drink,
Or if they want a feed .
Just shut them up!
Rebecca Finney, aged 12, Crook.
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