NOT FORGOTTEN by Marjorie Prothero.
I hear the Kookaburra's call
In morning's pearly dew
But have I forgotten the English birds
That once I clearly knew.
The Blackbird and the Robin
The swallow in full flight
The pure sweet song of the nightingale
In Spring-time's soft blue light.
No. Not Forgotten
I feel the warmth of a tropical sun
Rich land beneath my feet
But have I forgotten the dry-stone walls
Round fields both lush and neat.
The soft white flakes of winter
Snowdrops that herald spring
The summer's haze of Buttercups
Or autumn's golden fling
No. Not Forgotten.
I walk by the edge of a deep blue sea
On beaches gold and wide
But have I forgotten the seaside towns
The donkeys I used to ride
The candy rock with writing
Down to the very last bite
The colourful picture postcards
The fairground lights at night
No not forgotten
I live in a beautiful city
Skyscrapers both tall and true
But have I forgotten the ancient ways
That Caesar's legions knew
The sturdy walls of Chester
London's busy hub
The pretty little villages
Each with its friendly pub.
No not forgotten.
I've chosen to live in a wonderful land
Many miles away, but yet,
No matter how far away my home
These things I'll never forget
UP UP AND AWAY by Marjorie Prothero
Off to the airport with two heavy cases
Hoping to fly to faraway places
Out of the taxi, a trolley to find
Now where is my ticket
I've not left it behind?
Into the queue, knees not quite steady
But passport and ticket now at the ready
Onto the scales with all of my stuff
Twenty kilos - it's never enough.
Boarding is imminent - try not to be late
Through the swing doors, find the right gate
Dash through an opening - hold on for a mo'
Security check before you can go
Handbag examined its secrets to tell
Not only make-up, spare knickers as well
Departure lounge. Whew I'm finally here
Now where is the ‘plane - "I'm sorry my dear,
The aircraft we'd hoped to take you afar
Is delayed for two hours - that way to the bar."
Finally seated, hand luggage, it's said
Under the seat, but best overhead
Gretings and smiles from hostess's charming
But talk of emergency landings alarming.
What to do if we land in the drink
Put on your life-jacket so you don't sink.
Now, backrest upright,
Seat belt round your tum
Now where've they put mine?
Oops, it's under my -rear end
Engines purr, then turn to a roar
As faster and faster, and upwards we soar
Through fluffy clouds, farewell the mundane
We've joined the jet-set
We're in the fast lane.
Sit back, relax, and realise the wonder
Of flying in comfort, to here from down under.
TODAY'S GRANDMA by Marjorie Prothero.
(Published 1996 in ‘Reflections' HiltonHouse Press)
Does your Gran have looks like the Grandmas in books
With hair that is crinkly and grey?
I'm curious you see cos it does seem to me
That Grandmas are different today.
Mine goes off to town in a daring new gown
And comes back all laden with goodies
She throws off her shoes and gives us the news
She's been to a ‘Rave' with her buddies.
Mum says, "What a howl," but Dad gives a growl
At news that is quite indigestible
But with beads in her hair and never a care
Gran's rehearsing for next year's rock festival
There's a knock at the door, and you can be sure
That someone's not keen on the action
The music's too loud from the light-hearted crowd
In the senior citizen faction.
But nevertheless, I love her I guess
Though the hairdresser's magicked the grey
She'll ne'er make a Nun but I think that she's fun
For Grandmas are different today.
LOLLIPOP LAND by Grandma
A very sticky place
With sugar and spices
That stick to your face
Chewing gum, Smarties
To make you quite sick
Mars Bars and Snickers
Just take your pick
Nougat and Milo,
All sorts of bars,
Cadburys'Dairy Milk
Lollies in jars.
Candy Floss, Jelly Beans,
Mixed up with fizzy
Eat too much
And you'll end up dizzy
Viva Espana by Marjorie Prothero
Nelly was my Spanish friend
I'd never had a better
Come to see me Nelly asked
She asked it in a letter.
Two weeks in Spain, my Charlie cried
We'll really have a ball
The sun, the food, the beaches
The wine in glasses tall.
Well that was then and this is now
My Charlie's mine no more
The food and drink were wonderful
Wine oozed from every pore.
The sun shone down upon the beach
Paella was delicious
But suddenly the sun went in
My tummy ache was vicious.
And as I lay in agony
With sunburned heaving belly
My Charlie packed his bags and left
With Spanish floozy Nelly.
A TOOTHY TALE by Marjorie Prothero
Wont you come into my surgery said the dentist with a sigh
Twas the most hygienic surgery that I ever did espy
The way into that sterile room was past a dental nurse
We spoke about insurance and the sad state of my purse.
Said the charming bright-eyed dentist,"Dear friend what can I do
To give your mouth more comfort, your smile make sparkling new?
I'm sure you must be weary dear with such a lack of sleep
Wont you rest upon my little couch and I'll just take a peep?"
"Open wide. Now is it there,- or maybe over here?
Oh dear," he softly murmers, "There's more than one I fear."
"Ith ithn't thath," I try to show, "Iths really thith on high."
He hits a nerve and moves my hand that's twisted round his tie.
"Just a jab, that's all you'll feel." My mouth begins to swell
The drill sets up a grinding whirr I think I've gone to hell
"A little rinse," he sweetly chirps , "and soon it will be done."
A big fat cheque, and bloody mouthed I charge out to the sun.
And so my faithful reader who may this story read
Clean and brush quite often, to the dentist always heed
Take care of all those lovely teeth and never will you see
A face reflected in the glass, that looks like toothless me.
GRANDPA'S LOST TEETH By Marjorie Prothero
In memory of dear John, Betty's late husband.
Grandpa's teeth were lots of fun
They lived in a glass when evening was done
But during the day, within his old dial
They'd nash and crunch and improve his old smial
Sad to relate there came the day
When Grandpa's teeth were hidden away.
We looked in all the usual places
Great dismay on all of our faces
We searched the bed, both inside and under
We tore his ‘jama pockets asunder
But all we found, within the fluff
Were half sucked cough-drops and other strange stuff.
We searched and searched, as much as we were able
And finally found them under the table.
They'd been swept around upon the floor,
Lucky they hadn't been kicked through the door
Under the tap with a nice quick flush
And into his mouth with a flourishing push.
Now Grandpa is happily able to munch
All Bran with his breakfast and Prunes with his lunch
So if ever your choppers to find you're unable
I strongly advise, you look under the table.
A Sentimental Bloke by Marjorie Prothero.
(A writers' group exercise. Main theme ‘A Paper Clip)
Thoughts on paper with a paper clip
Into his desk he allows them to slip
Dreams written down from my heart and my lip
Held together with a paper clip.
With a paper clip, of pink ribbon no sign
But still he keeps those old letters of mine
And into the desk he'll occasionally dip
To find them still held together with a paper clip.
Christmas card poems by Marjorie Prothero. | |
Beneath the fluffy Gum Tree Thoughts of Holly, Mistletoe, Yet as the Southern Cross appears May the world know the joy of Christmas | Santa Claus will soon be here The Prothero s’ wish you lots of fun, |
The Fairy on the Xmas Tree by Marjorie Prothero.
(Lauren’s party piece - aged five)I sit on top of the Christmas Tree
Beneath a shining star
And look between the branches
To where the presents are.
There’s one for Mom and one for Dad
And one for Crandma too
But for poor little Lauren and Aron
There isn’t a thing in view.
But HARK!! Do I hear Sleigh Bells?
Hooray, Old Santa Claus is back.
He’s bringing lots of presents
Inside a great big sack
We all love dear old Santa
I wonder who he is.
Well, when we next come face to face
I’ll give him a great big kiss.
THE LITTLE OLD MAN by Marjorie Prothero.
He comes in the nightHe comes in the night
He softly, silently comes
While the dear little heads, on pillows so white
Are dreaming of dolls and space guns
He glides round the world
Sprinkling love and goodwill
A wonderful spirit is his.
So children, be good to the little old man
When you find out who the little man is.
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL
Twas the night before ChristmasAnd all through the house
Not a creature was stirring
Not even a mouse.
The tree was no longer looking so bare
I’d put on the baubles with meticulous care
I’d put on the tinsel, the baubles, the star
The pretty bright lights, to be seen from afar.
But suddenly, I heard a great clatter
And I rushed to the window, to see what was the matter.
I looked out to the garden, and what should appear,
But a bright coloured sleigh with some tiny reindeer.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around
Old Father Christmas came in with a bound.
He had a broad happy face and a little round belly
That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a jolly old elf
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of my self
He spoke not a word, but under the tree
He placed lots of goodies for Lauren and me
Then off he floated, back to his sleigh
And disappeared through the milky way
But as he went I heard him call
“See you next year, -Merry Christmas to all.”
Happy Birthday by Marjorie Prothero.
I looked in all the paper shops,The supermarkets too
To find that very special card
That would be right for you
There were those with sickly sentiment
And those with naughty jokes
There were those that yelled about your age
To all the local folk
But nowhere could I find a card
That would tell you of the way
I’ve valued our long friendship
And so I’ll simply say
That now it’s your birthday
I hope it’s a mirthday
A day that is really true blue.
A day that’s delightful
A day that is right full
Of all my good wishes for you
Our little Golf Buggy by Marjorie Prothero.
“Here you are,” they kindly said,“Don’t go too fast, or let it go to your head.
It has to be driven with delicate care,
With dignity, calm, and with gentle flair”.
But somewhere along our drivers’ route
With a yell of delight and a Root,Toot,Toot,
The buggy went haring around the estate
Like shivering jelly, on a hot plate.
Over the bumps with speed and with flight,
Flags all a flying and wheels all alight
Down to the gates, and up again yonder
Making the ducks to all squawk and to ponder
On dear old ladies jumping out of the way,
And gardener’s language as they hide in the hay.
But nevertheless, through rain, hail and thunder
The dear little buggy drives the puddles asunder
And takes us with kindly care and new mates,
With smiles and good fellowship,
Right up to the gates.
M.P.
To Alan on his birthday by Marjorie Prothero.
I needed a hand when I was short of a footAnd then I was short of two,
But good friends were there, and I really do swear
I don’t know what I’d have done without you
And now it’s your birthday, I hope it’s a mirth-day
A day that is really true blue,
A day that’s delightful, a day that is right full
Of all my good wishes for you.
But on top of those, in my very best prose
I’d also like to say,
You’re a good friend indeed at the time of one’s need
And I’m most awfully glad to know you.
