Stripped Bare

The elderly house clad in its
homeowner’s rough paint job
stood behind the huge old tree
in the centre of its luxuriant
front lawn hidden by
overgrown front gardens
tranquilly dozing through
its later ancient years
beside the old cracked driveway
sprouting weeds through its
many craggy ruptures.

In its lengthy back garden
flourishing trees and bushes
towered above surrounding
dwarfed suburban houses.

At last its elderly owner passed
away. New owners arrived.

Now the huge old tree has been
removed from the front lawn
a garage sits there instead.
The dilapidated front wall is
demolished, the front garden
levelled to the ground ……

…… completely deforested.
The jungle behind the house is
dug up by roaring machines
carted away in truckloads
over a week, the ancient
dug up carted away.

Stark stands the old house
on its stripped barren land.


Previously posted April 2018.

A Prolific Vine

Broad matt leaves on sprawling
stems tumbled over bent battered
sheets of old corrugated
iron fence, sheets attached
to slowly rotting posts
on the neighbour’s side.

I trimmed these stems from
time to time hoping to see
time green bunches likely to
grow into grapes hiding under
large flat leaves like thoses
spreading along vineyard wires.

No grapes ever appeared.
My hopes were dashed when
the vine at last sent fruit
over the fence, no cluster
of tiny green fruit but a
large ugly green egg
shaped object with a green
thorny skin – a choko !!

No flavoursome flesh but
white tasteless matter
needing chutney cooking
and seasonings for eating.

It went back over the fence.


Previously posted April 2018.

A New Home

After Alfred suddenly passed
away rose at eighty five felt
insecure in her retirement cottage.

Alfred had led their moves to
a little low maintenance home
on to their cottage in the little
retirement village always
convincing as they shared
the work moving to new homes.

Now unexpectedly she was
alone with shaky hands no
one at home for company
companionable silences
her children grandchildren
scattered around the country
her best friends in their eighties
with elderly limits on their lives.

Practical Rose was experienced
in moving. She inspected rest
homes interviewed matrons
made her choice with her daughters
alongside. Selling her cottage she
moved into her chosen rest home.

I need company every day she said.


Previously posted March 2018.

Rest Home

In their eighties Dad needed
nursing care but Mum was
too frail to nurse him.

He moved to the rest home
down the road leaving Mum
behind missing him terribly.
She visited him every day
often stopping to talk to
other old men living there
with far fewer visits
brightening their days.

In time Dad passed away
leaving Mum in her frailty
still sorely missing him.
She could not bear to return
to the rest home she told
the matron at the supermarket.

Now the old men at the
rest home missed both
their friend and his
cheerful daily visitor.


Previously posted March 2018.

Age Gap

Perplexed mother told daughter
a younger man wanted to be
her special friend. she was
old fashioned in these matters.
What to do now ?

Father had long since passed
away. Daughter thought mother
should enjoy her later years
with a special friend.

For a woman of 98 in a
comfortable rest home a man
of 92 was a suitable friend a
six year gap was nothing now.

So mother graciously agreed to
be his special friend enjoyed
three years of happiness till her
peaceful passing at 101.

Her frail younger man at 95
grieved her passing deeply, was
moved to the hospital wing.


Previously posted March 2018.

Taxis

Working for a living I
ferried myself as my own
taxi driver to work, home,
friends’ places, family,
evening meetings, outings.

On my pension I walk, bus
occasionally take a taxi.
I told a few taxi drivers
good routes to take to
reduce my fare. They
objected at length so now
I use the smaller taxi
company, tactfully encourage
praise those using economical
money saving routes.

Fortunately walking and bus
timetables usually suit my days.


Previously posted March 2018.

Buses

Many other passengers share
the poor woman’s personal
vehicle, the plus sized bus.
Travelling round the city
between long scheduled intervals
they share a chauffeur, fit
their outings and errands
around the council timetable,
walk to and from bus stops.

Yet passengers have no bills
for maintenance, tyres, no
need to negotiate traffic
lights and roundabouts or
struggle to park a car, pay
parking meters, warrants,
licences, registration.

Good compensation for
walking to bus stops.


Previously posted March 2018.

In The Wind

Shifting shapes shades colours
flying flapping fluttering
flowing in the airy current
punctuated by random gusts
sharp breezes tugging at
corners of rectangular towels
anchored to the clothesline.

Brightly hued stripes patches
spots catching sunlight on
thick velvety pile and
worn threadbare cloth alike.

A flowing abstract depiction
of colours caught by sunlight
on a b risk drying day.


Previously posted March 2018.

Uproar

My head resonates with
glugging hissing crackling
slurping suction sounds
booming round the boundaries
inside my skull.

Tubes and wires sprout from
the little motor over my head.
One tube leads into a cone
in my ear which craves
immediate scratching.
I focus resolutely on staying
still thoughout the uproar.

My ear canals clear after ten
long minutes. I hear again.


Previously posted March 2018.