My Valentine
Miner's son and miner's daughter,
Fell in love and so they oughter.
He a tall handsome guy,
She seventeen and very shy.
Miner's daughter and miner's son,
Two years courting, lots of fun.
"Love me," he said, "Love my motorbike."
Crafty, she said: "Your bike I like."
Miner's son and miner's daughter,
Seven months later, a ring he bought her,
Gave it to her at the speedway track,
He kissed her, she kissed him back.
Miner's daughter and miner's son,
When he knew her heart he'd won,
Said: "Choose a day to make you mine,
Fourteenth of Feb? Be my Valentine."
Miner's daughter and miner's son,
Lived for 43 years as one.
Gently he closed his eyes one day
And to his Maker, he slipped away.
Miner's daughter, all alone,
In smaller house, her companion, the phone.
Often she walks lanes on her own,
Searching for her miner's son.
Olga Ramshaw, West Rainton.
Be My Valentine
Bouquet of flowers, I deliver from my heart
Each petal represents my love waiting to start.
More colourful than a field of flowers in blossom
You'll marvel at the fragrance, spinning round the room.
Very devoted to bring on air of beauty
Arranged only for you, you'll like the scenery
Love the picture, take hold of it in your arms
Escape from the darkness, enjoy the tender charms
Needs to be fed and watered with your loving care
Treat in such a way, demands your dynamic flair
It will live forever, accept invitation
No doubt about feelings, waits investigation
Easy let it flow, our love will constantly grow.
John Neal, Chester-le-Street.
A Valentine For All Seasons
Your whispered voice on a springtime breeze
When you promise to be mine
Just the way you look at me
Tells me you're my Valentine.
The summer sunshine in your eyes
Your warm lips touching mine
The way you always hold me close
Tells me you're my Valentine.
As we stroll through crisp autumn leaves
Your hand is holding mine
The way you always stay with me
Tells me you're my Valentine.
You keep me warm through winter nights
Your body lies close to mine
Words of love on a satin heart
Tells me you're my Valentine.
Spring, summer, autumn, winter
Your love will always be mine
And I'll love you forever, dear
Because I am your Valentine.
Sara Newby, Darlington.
The Day The Bin Went Up In Flames
My husband is a kindly man
He helps me out as best he can
By doing various little chores
Like washing up and cleaning floors.
One night last week I said: "My dear,
"I've just thought of a good idea.
"We'll let the coal fire burn all night."
He said he thought t'would be all right.
Next morning, with a smiling face,
My hubby cleaned the fireplace
And put the ashes out to cool
But then forgot the golden rule.
Now most folk know a wheelie-bin
Is not where you put ashes in
When they look cold but still are hot
But did he check? No - he did not!
The first we knew that things were wrong
Was when we smelt that awful pong
Of burning plastic just outside
And then with horror we espied
That flames were leaping up the wall
All angry red and ten foot tall.
We heard the window glass go "crack"
And saw the kitchen door turn black
We doused the fire but not before
The bin had burned down to the floor.
Now, after five and twenty years
I have my doubts. I have my fears.
The man I wed in '76
Has now become an arsonist!
Bill Cooksey, Newton Aycliffe.
When Reptiles Ruled The Earth
The times when there were reptiles
Ruining the earth
Were millions of years ago,
Before man had his birth.
They roared and made the land shake,
Especially the T Rex.
When he found some food to eat,
His teeth sank in their necks.
There was lots of blood around,
Dripping from his jaws
There were lots of flesh as well,
Hanging from his claws.
Sometimes there would be stampedes
As they tried to run away.
Triceratops would be Rex's tea
Before the end of the day.
Some were big and ugly,
Eating all the plants
And green leaves on all the trees
Which they came upon by chance.
A lot of them were carnivores,
Hunting each day for meat.
They caught and killed them savagely,
Knocking them off their feet.
It would have been a terrible time
If humans had been around.
I'm glad I wasn't born then
To hear such an awful sound.
If I had the power to travel back
I'd choose the Jurassic time.
But if I wasn't here right now,
I couldn't have written this rhyme!
Timothy Jasper, Sedgefield.
To The River Ure
Lovely river flowing
Through fields of flowers growing,
Cows by banksides lowing,
Like sleepy melody.
Pristine river gleaming
With fish and insects teeming,
Glide on sweetly dreaming
Lost in your vanity.
Muddy river raging
Thirsty grass assuaging,
Through the fields rampaging,
Charge on destructively.
Sleepy river resting,
Skills of anglers testing,
Ducks and swans are nesting,
Keep sleeping peacefully.
Flow on timeless river,
Wandering hither and thither,
Nature's lifeblood to deliver,
Drift on eternally.
D Bowes, Middleham.
A Canadian Trip
It was only a trip for oldies, a Saga by train, bus and plane
A journey accompanied by wheelchair, just in case of flagging or pain.
But Dorothy caught a sense of adventure as only an 82-year-old can.
It could have been brought on by mountains, the air or was it that man!
What adventurous whim had persuaded her to climb into that boat?
Did she spot its rubbery, inflated nature that hopefully kept it afloat?
And was she puzzled when handed a life-jacket and told to hold on tight
To a rope strapped to the bottom, the one nearly out of her sight?
It all started well as they pushed off gently, gliding down the streams
Till they rounded a corner, speeded up and everything turned to steam.
The water frothed and foamed and leapt up, half-filling the boat
It poured round her legs and backside, and even went down her throat
It was a trip she'd always remember - an half-hour or more of delight?
Bucking, bouncing and splashing - she could have taken fright.
But Dorothy showed her true fettle, merely wondering at every bend
Whether those swimming pool lessons would be needed before journey's end?
It was a record of sorts, they reckon she was the oldest that ever went down
And they're claiming it's a cure for arthritis, as she so quickly debarked to the town.
So, hurrah for the Canadian Rockies, the elks, bears and bison too.
For Dorothy returned home to Redworth, much wiser, with a bottom both black and blue.
It was only a trip for oldies, a Saga by train, bus and plane
But Dorothy's choice of excursion (whitewater rafting) was clearly insane.
Brian Appleby, Richmond
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