An old windmill stands on a hill;
it once stood proud
as the wind swept round its sails.
Now deserted,
...
The world is filled with special people,
who are there when you need them.
They blend into the background,
emerging only when we have troubles in our lives.
...
Smiling faces beam of summer warmth
Greeting of jokes and cordial words
Handshakes from outstretched hands
Kisses from pursed lips of pretty faces
...
The world is filled with short people,
who forget there are tall people like me.
For when they build a door of six foot,
they forget all about the poor old persons,
...
Suburban streets filled with baseball hats
People living in suburban flats
Cobweb shops filled with queues
People rushing round wearing out shoes
...
Nothing can right a wrong we’ve done
What is done can not be reversed
No matter how hard we want to try
Every time we play the game of love
...
The words just flee from my head,
to the paper in front of me.
They tell of love and sorrows be.
They also tell of other things.
...
He rode is gallant steed
the sun reflecting off his breastplate.
He rode into the dragon’s den
to rid his precious homeland
...
The old dead tree stood
gnarled weather torn;
its limbs were now brittle.
What stories could it tell
...
For Betty Burton
A friend for over thirty years.
...