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.