Oh how graceful I would be
If I fell as a leaf falls from a tree
Or like a feather floating down
Gently tumbling to the ground
I do quite happily sit and stare
As autumn leaves dance in the air
Like ballerinas or acrobats
And quietly wish I could do that.
For grace is a quality I do not possess
Poor motor skills, and a lack of finesse
And in my experience, I’ve always found
By the time I know I’m falling…..
I’m already on the ground.
I wrestled a wardrobe
Battled right up the stairs
Pouring sweat, and teeth gnashing
Swapping splinters and swears
Knocked chunks out me shins
Whilst chipping the paint
The air was turned blue
By my lack of restraint
I lugged and I heaved
Questioned my faith and belief
Asked for divine intervention
Some help or reprieve
But none was forthcoming
This was my task alone
Ricocheting that wardrobe
Off the walls of my home.
It was not pretty or pleasant
But the job was complete
The wardrobe in tatters
Me dead on my feat
Wife came home: saw the wardrobe
And me slumped in a chair
Then crushed my world with one comment:
‘I don’t want that there’
Did you know, W is for Duck is now on TikTok! if you want to see the video of me reciting this week’s Friday Poem, just click on this link: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZM8g4nLdJ/
Another last minute poem
Written off the cuff
I’d had plans to plan this
But just never enough
Time in the day
Or the evenings too
You know how it is
Always something to do
Some job that needs doing
Paintwork renewing
Not even enough time
For some TV viewing
There’s nothing ever on
Just rubbish or noise
Girls with their tops off
Or muscular boys
Life moves so fast
I can’t keep track of time
Maybe it’s a sign that I’m older
Although that’s not a crime
It’s just one of the consequences
Of our busy lives
But maybe I should take stock
Reprioritise
And make time to make rhyme
Keep the urge to write words
Just put pen to paper
Not put off till’ later
Because later never happens
All we have is the now
And look, once again
I’ve written a poem – somehow.
Hello, and welcome to this week’s very special Friday poem – the 250th that I have written. This week’s poem is also special because the topic was chosen as part of a competition that I ran and especially for this poem and it was chosen at random by one of my followers it turns out who won a copy of my two books the Friday poems Vol 1 and vol 2. I know I’ve written a poem every week for almost the last five years but I’m also aware that you guys have also read those poems each and every week for the last 5 years so I just want to take a moment to express my thanks to you for your support and even for just taking the time to hop on this blog and read the poems that I write. I’m always open to suggestions for phone topics so if you always wanted to suggest a topic for me to write a poem about all you’ve got to do is contact me via this blog, leave a comment after any poem, or you can find me on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, and now you can even find me on tiktok! just search for w is for duck 21 on tiktok and you’ll see videos of me reciting my poems.
Anyway, onto this week’s poem as I said this subjects was suggested by one of my followers and there’s an environmental theme to this week’s poem and I hope you like it. Here’s to the next 250!
Oh we do like to be beside the seaside
Isn’t something we can sing anymore
Because sewage is being pumped along our coastline
And must ultimately wash up on our shore.
This must be one of those “benefits” we were promised
Of being freed from the EU thanks to brexit.
But at least kids at the beach can now legitimately say
“Your sandcastle really looks shit!”.
Our planet keeps on taking a battering
While our leaders add their methane to the mix.
Yes, they commit to making some changes
But they’ll take up to 50 years to fix.
Meanwhile, in the time it takes to read this poem
Roughly 1500 trees have been cut down
And our seas got an additional 11,000 cubic metres
Of our effluent mess oh so brown.
This isn’t a problem that’s approaching:
We’ve been killing this planet for years.
But we don’t seem to see it or hear it
Possibly because the pollution is now up to our ears.
So, we’ll sort this all out – in a minute
We’ll do it alright? – later on.
Governments promise they’ll do what they must
But their conviction doesn’t feel very strong
So those of us here without power
Wait for rescue as the tide comes in
While those who could save us smile, wave and gesture
As our window of opportunity gets thin.
And the Irony is in no way lost on me
Using the sea as a metaphor I acknowledge
Might not be the most subtle, but you have to admit
We’re not waving but drowning – in sewage.
W Is For Duck 