Your poems

Sunday nite at the bingo

Eeeh my, what a treat.

Seeing all ya friends,

It really makes the nite.

There's Cath and Ronnie Storey,

Doreen and Eva too,

Teresa and Ray Curry,

And all the other crew.

Then it's Eyes Down.

Look in.

Everybody quiet as a mouse.

Ya waiting for one number,

Then somebody shouts "House".

Bingo is now over

And we never won nowt,

But we will all be back next Sunday

Hoping we will get a shout.

Even if we win nowt

It will all make amends.

Just to be out sitting

With all your lovely friends.

Margaret Robinson, Ushaw Moor.

One Life

Only get one time around,

No rehearsals allowed.

Once chance to take the test;

Can't come back to try it all over again.

You only get one crack at this game.

Better give this your best shot,

As it's the one and only chance you've got.

Everything taken for granted will one day be lost.

The time might not be as long as you would like to believe,

Before you know where you are it will be for you that they all grieve.

If you allow the frustrations to rule your world;

Be prepared for the pain to be layered deep,

Like hardening concrete that will never be cracked;

One life with one soul,

Don't live it like a sentence with no possibility of parole.

Instead of stranding yourself within the wall of the dark,

Find the strength to search for the light.

Impossible challenge to get it all right.

As mistakes will be made time and time again,

Got to try to conquer the courage to be able to move on

Or you will be the one that stands alone.

Don't live the days wishing it had been done differently,

It is a sure symptom to cripple the existence.

Let life be led by the heart and not the mind;

Sooner or later death must be stared in the face.

Don't look back to claim it all a useless waste.

Barry Bingham, Darlington.

The Field

You pass me by

Going from village to town.

You don't turn an eye

At the earth so brown.

Yet our lives are entwined

As the time moves on.

We have a lot in kind

To think upon.

We are changing each year

In our daily growth.

Although it is not clear

What is happening to us both.

Sometimes I am clover

Feeding the dairy herd

As they wander all over

Producing milk and curd.

Then I am meadow grass

Grazing sheep in a flock,

Which when the months pass

Produce woollen dress and sock.

I could be golden corn

With a rich harvest head.

Waiting to be shorn

And made into bread.

I nurture the seed

To make things grow.

You see the need

For your thoughts to show.

As we change we give life

Of a different sort.

In a world of strife

Which needs good thought.

As you go past me

Year by year.

Make the world free

From doubt and fear.

Remember, your thoughts

Are like seeds.

They can grow into flowers

Or into weeds.

Thomas Conlon, Kirk Merrington, Spennymoor.

The Sky At Night

High above in a cloudless sky

Against the darkness of the night,

Stars scattered across the universe,

A truly wonderful sight.

Look up in awe and wonder

At this heavenly display.

To myriads of twinkling stars

Strung across the Milky Way.

Venus the brightest star of all,

Its incandescence glows.

Gleams like a precious diamond,

Its flawless beauty shows.

The glory of a winter's night

Frosty air so crystal clear,

A star spangled spectacular

Far away and yet so near.

Orion, Leo and Capricorn

To name but only a few,

Constellations of the zodiac

That tell our fortunes too.

Mars, the mysterious red planet,

A source of inspiration,

Remember the film War of the Worlds,

Capturing man's imagination.

The moon in all its phases

Sheds moonbeams' yellow glow,

To lighten up the darkness

Upon the Earth below.

The Aurora Borealis

Hangs in the Northern skies,

A colourful shimmering curtain

That slowly fades and dies.

Meteorites streak across the sky

In the dark nights of December,

While comets like the Hale-Bopp

Leave a vision to remember.

All these celestial wonders

Portrayed in heavenly grandeur,

Sparkling in the firmament

In magnificent astral splendour.

GW Skaife, Saltburn.

Electioneering

Election time is coming

and many ploys MPs will hatch.

So they begin to clutch at straws

as your vote they want to catch.

They will parade around the country

as they try hard to impress.

Regardless of their statements

at their honesty you have to guess.

They insult the old age pensioners

by labelling them "the voters grey",

And argue like small schoolboys

determined to get their own way.

At this high time in politics

all is fair in love and war.

But the main effect they have

is to make us even more unsure,

As they expect us to believe them

with their cutting little tales.

While bandying their views about,

Their hides as hard as nails.

And when it comes to polling day

Loud hailers they will use.

Each one aims to shout the loudest,

the electors to confuse.

So when you go to make your cross

for the candidate you trust.

Just remember - when he's got your vote,

about you he'll not be fussed.

At Westminster there's a salary,

expense accounts and perks you see.

And with a bit of bloomin' luck

some might just work for you and me.

Betty Robertson, Hipswell, Richmond.

The Cheat

The lad denied he was a cheat.

The teacher said: "Don't lie.

"The proof is here for all to see

"As plain as apple pie."

"The boy who sits right next to you

"Got these two questions right

And so did you." The lad said: "Well,

That proves I'm just as bright."

"But now let's look at question three

"What makes an aircraft fly?"

"Your friend has answered: 'I don't know',

And you wrote: 'Nor do I'."

Bill Cooksey, Newton Aycliffe.

Memories

I'm older now, but I still like

To take the dogs out for a walk,

And meet some friends along the way

And sometimes stop and talk.

So when we meet my friends all call me Freddie

But I must confess that nowadays

It takes me ages to get ready.

I've donned my clothes, put trainers on

It's then I have to think,

Put everything in my pockets

Except the kitchen sink.

I've got my little tablets,

I take them for angina,

My two inhalers in my hand.

Well, nothing could be finer.

Have I got everything that I need?

I sure to get in a tizzy.

Oh, don't forget the Stemitil pills

Just in case I get dizzy.

I've got my mobile in my hand

I take it just in case

I trip and fall and break a leg

Or fall flat on my face.

I've got the lead and pooper scoop

And take my stick along,

To help me on my journey,

I sing a little song.

I've gone about a mile now

And my memory I jog,

Well, I simply don't believe it,

I've forgot the blooming dog!

F Wallis, Barnard Castle.