Life

Posted on by celfypridd
The cock on the church spire
Fixed its face to the west
And on a cloudless day
We walked to your funeral
Along the path in the park
By the shade of the river
It was my task to make you smile
Or even laugh and lay to one side
The greyness of your widowhood
We were here to remember you
I remember your stoical grace
Your delicate grey eyed smile
And know how I will miss you.
In memory of Sheila Little died 28th August 2016 aged 80 years.

Friendship and love

Posted on by celfypridd

dsc_0152

 

You looked out toward the sea

A cool September evening

We had planned coming

We watched an empty sea

 

The news dulled our hopes

It was a cool darkening  evening

We sat outside silently watching

Waves riding the beaches slopes.

 

Hopes shattered lives challenged

And we hold each other silently

Standing close together quietly

Our love cannot be expunged.

Waiting for storms to pass

Posted on by celfypridd

Waiting for storms to pass

 

Standing under maples

Waiting for hard rain to pass

Watching iron black

Towered  thunder clouds

Rise over the mountain

I remembered you

And  wondered

At the reason

The memory

Was brought back

It was the day you decided

You were leaving

You told me

This place is not for me

It’s not for you either

You told me

Don’t worry

You’ll find

Your own way

That was the last

I saw of you

But the memory of your

Strength of conviction

Has been a source

Of great strength

Doing what’s right

Is all that matters

I think of your courage

A woman who knew

What was wrong

What was right

And I cherish

The memory

Of you then

The briefness

Of our friendship.

 

RAC

That Generation of men

Posted on by celfypridd

DSC_6285 - Copy.JPG

That generation of men

 

How long did I work with abused people

Thirty nine years maybe forty

But always that resistance and absolute denial

By that generation of men

 

The so called decision makers

Thirty eight years trying

To get through a wall

Of concrete doors

Of silence, of ridicule,

It seems ridiculous to me now

The ends they’d go to

To avoid listening

I’d get phone calls

From experts in the States

My boss shut his door

Stopped answering his phone

The message on his door

I’m out in a meeting

Outside my window

I could see his car

That generation of men

 

Men who thought abused children

Asked for it in some way

Or that the abusers were right

It didn’t do the child serious harm

After all they’re still alive,

They’re still breathing

What’re they complaining about

Forty years of listening

Forty years of fighting

That generation of men

 

And now I worry

Nothings really changed

Another generation of men

Are not talking about what they really think

Two children are murdered each week

One woman murdered a fortnight

The majority by men’s doing

These are things men need to sort out

Meanwhile men are silent

Sitting on their hands

Talking about sport

As if it’s the be-all of this life

This generation of men.

 

RAC