Squares, Beware by Peter Simon, father of Daphne Jaaback

( written in the 1950’s)

 

Stovepipe trousers, flouncy skirts

Greasy faces, dirty shirts,

Smoking dagga, drinking brandy,

Rocking, rolling –  legs all bandy.

That’s  the modern trend of youth.

Expressionless, morose, uncouth.

Slouching, leering, hands in pockets,

Combs protruding from their ”sockets”.

Girls seductive – swaying hips

Fag ends drooping from their lips

Males, “so called’ with mops of hair

Duckies, Teddies  everywhere.

 

Innocents Take Care    by Daphne Jaaback, a modern version

 

Half mast trousers, hugging tights,

Heavy piercings,  tattooed sights,

Downing shots and sniffing snorts,

Texting messages with quick retorts.

That’s the modern trend of youth.

Behaviour casual and oft uncouth,

Steroid pumped and sauntering by,

Giving girls the beady eye,

They  ,in turn, on each teetering heel,

Make no bones about how they feel.

Males with  coiffed spiky hair atop,

And females  some with  multicoloured mop.

Mermaid’s Sing by Corinna Turner

Mermaid’s Sing   by Corinna Turner  in response to the poem below

I grow old … I grow old
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

 

Mermaids Sing
Of course they’ll sing for you.
You just have to close your eyes,
Imagine the view.

Mermaid girls with no thighs,
Beautiful breasts,
Shiny, curling, waving tails,
[Who cares about the scales],

Trilling their songs, oh so true,
Visions of mind at your own behest!

Octopus by Daphne Jaaback

An animal that appeals to me

An octopus, though tough and slimy

Has eight legs so very handy

Worth  much more than a stack of candy

 

My husband dear is hard of ear

And he keeps his cell phone near

Should a caller not be listed

I take over,  by him insisted

 

A day arose when his cell rang

I took over as was the plan

It was then that Skype came in to play

And my  cell did join the fray

 

I kid you not when I relate

The landline then did join the debate

A knock there was at our front door

No more , no more did I implore

 

Eight hands would have been a solution

To hold the devices and sooth the commotion

To take down messages and open the door

But an octopus might have frightened the caller!

Placing a bandaid over a gaping wound by Brenda-Joan Payne

 

Placing a bandaid over a gaping wound
Whilst crying out, ‘it’s too soon’

Trying to hide the flesh, the pain
Mind’s a mess, it’s insane

Just want to be wrapped in a cocoon
Embraced by the beams of the moon

Hushed to sleep in midst of care
Never having my soul to bare

Can’t gaze too long at blood and gore
It’s such a waste with nothing to score

So fold it up within my being
Cover well, no sight seeing

Tuck it deep, deep inside
And trust that it all will subside

The Snow Leopard by Bob McMahon

Rare And Beautiful

Silent As The Falling Snow

Solitary Creature

Elusive Cat, Heart Beating Slow

 

Measured Step, Slow And Tense

Waits And Waits To Be Unseen

Elegant Snow Leopard

Regal Grace – A Feline Queen

 

Sleek And Fierce

Majestic Creature Free To Roam

Imposing Yet Serene

Perpetual Snow Her Only Home

 

Power And Stealth

Weapons To Face Her Foe

Brave And Wild

The Princess Of The Snow

New Season in Life by Brenda-Joan Payne

 

 

The heart was heavy

tired and sore

it was winter

in the deepest core

 

It seemed as though

I would always be

wet with tears

for none to see

 

Yet I knew deep

down inside

I could never

forever there abide

 

I had too much

laughter to give

love to share

I needed to live

 

So I shook off

the sorrow; the pain

and I looked around

new life to gain

 

I put one foot

in front of another

with a new smile

the fracture to cover

 

Slowly I discovered

something softly new

a promise of spring

a touch of dew

 

I gathered with grace

blossoms so bright

I shook off the darkness

and moved into new light.

Trekking The Dunes by Daphne Jaaback

Monoliths of the Sahara Beida

A wadi in the Sahara Suda

Across the dunes on nature’s shanks

Or four by four  and leaving tracks

 

The Bedouin guide had them taste tea

Sweeter than cups drunk by you and me

Energy replenished  and time to give a hand

Landcruiser  immobile, stuck in the sand.

 

Falling asleep under a starlit sky

Bemused by the sights of the day gone by

Sand ripples and dune undulation

The amazing  “Mushroom ‘ , chalk rock formation

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