Rudolph the Old-aged Reindeer

Santa’s getting worried

Now Rudolph’s getting old

They might get lost this Christmas

And stranded in the cold

 

He had a mini conference

With the elves and gnomes no less

Then they had a little whip round

And bought Rudolph GPS

 

They’ve tied it to his antlers

They’ve fastened it real tight

Let’s hope it doesn’t fall off

Whilst he’s out on Christmas night

 

But if you see a reindeer

Looking lost and sad and blue

You’ll know Rudolph’s dropped his sat nav

Down a chimney quite near you

 

Now Santa won’t ask directions

He‘s a stubborn man you see

So if you come across him

Would you point his sleigh toward me?

 

So if on Christmas morning

There’s nothing underneath your tree

You’ll know Santa’s taken a wrong turning

And Rudolph’s lost it finally

 

©Marian Barker

 

 

 

 

Conversion

Clogs clatter on flagstones cold and grey

Workers chatter loudly on their way

Noisy machines crash and burn

As wheels and pulleys and cogs all turn

Oil and grease permeates the air

Dust and debris everywhere

Blackened walls, stone aged with grime

From chimneys smoking all the time

England’s dark satanic mills

Nestling in the Yorkshire hills.

***

Slippers patter on carpets warm and brown

Residents nod quietly going off to town

Silent corridors with doors on every side

And windows clear that simply glide

The mill has changed before our eyes

Resplendent, metamorphosised

Sandblasted walls, stone cleaned with care

Pretty shrubs and flowers everywhere

England’s latest homes for sale

Nestling in this Yorkshire dale.

(c) Marian Barker

September Sadness

Melancholy month when morning dew
Hangs like the tears I cried over you
Misty-eyed mornings stirring anew
Feelings thought hidden brought clearly to view.

Sad, sad September you’ve come round once again
The hurt is still hurting, the pain is still pain
Why does my heartache and heartbreak remain?
Will my life ever be complete once again?

Green leaves are turning, beginning to die
They will fall to the ground like the tears I now cry
There’s a chill in my heart even though I do try
To forget that sad year when we both said goodbye.

September release me, please let me be free
Of these feelings of sadness of things not to be
Let me bask in the sunshine, let me bathe in the sea
Give me a purpose, a reason, a new happier me.

Shed no tears for September, no more autumn rain
Shed no tears for the past for there’s nothing to gain.

©Marian Barker

Dreams

Dreams are like bubbles
That blow on the breeze
Impossible to hold
They go where they please

Dreams are for dreaming
In bed late at night
Dreams are like bubbles
I know that is right

Dreams disappear
When you want them so much
They’re lovely to see
But they burst if you touch

Dreams are like bubbles
They don’t want to stop
But don’t last forever
They’re fragile and pop

Reflecting the light
They fly high and fly free
I won’t try and catch them
I’ll just let them be

©Marian Barker

Grandma’s Magic Slippers

Grandma wears these funny slippers
When she comes to stay with me
She says that they are magic
And I think I must agree

They’ve really got the biggest eyes
They’re fluffy through and through
They often do the strangest things
That slippers shouldn’t do

They hide under the table
They hide behind the chair
But when I try and find them
They’re never ever there

They watch me do my homework
They make sure I brush my teeth
And when I sleep in Grandma’s bed
They’re sleeping underneath

Most Grandmas wear normal slippers
Some Grandmas sit and knit
But my Grandma and her slippers
Are really fun and fit

They’re magic and they’re special
And make my life such fun
And when she wears her slippers
You should see my Grandma run

She entered the Olympics
To put them to the test
And my Grandma and her slippers
They were the very best

So if you have a Grandma
That’s not as good as mine
Buy her some magic slippers
And things will turn out fine

©Marian Barker

Buttons

When I was just a little child
Sat at my mother’s knee
She used to tell me stories
We didn’t watch TV

She had a box of buttons
She took down from the shelves
And for hours upon hours
We would entertain ourselves

The buttons held many memories
For mother and for me
They captured special moments
In our family history

A military button from my granddad
For he was very brave
He fought for king and country
It said so on his grave

A tiny pearl from grandma
I really must confess
This was my very favourite
It was from her wedding dress

A shiny silver button
From the blazer dad once wore
When he went to watch the cricket
Hoping that his team would score

A little yellow button
With a flower on from me
From my tiny little jacket
That mum called a matinee

A woggle from the cub scouts
Was amongst the fine array
My brothers went there once or twice
But didn’t want to stay

Those buttons taught me colours
And taught me how to count
They taught me shapes and sizes
Of that there is no doubt

Now I’ve got a box of buttons
I take down from my shelves
And tell stories to my grandchildren
We do enjoy ourselves

©Marian Barker

Making Memories

We had a day at the seaside
We stopped along the way
We bought new spades and buckets
So we could have a play

We made a great big castle
Out of the golden sand
We walked long the shoreline
And you took us by the hand

We gathered shells and pebbles
They were washed up on the shore
You called them “nature’s treasures”
So we buried them once more

We made a boat together
With room enough for two
Then we sailed it round the ocean
Just like the pirates do

We talked about the sun
We talked about the tides
We laughed and laughed together
We nearly split our sides

And when the day was over
And we looked at all we’d done
We’d made some lovely memories
And had a lot of fun

©Marian Barker

Precious Memories

I have a box of treasure
Belonging just to me
Containing priceless souvenirs
And full of history

I have a box of memories
I only have the key
To unlock the many secrets
And reveal the mystery

I have a box that’s precious
In so many different ways
Crammed full of recollections
Of countless lovely days

This box cannot be stolen
Nor damaged by mankind
My precious treasured memories
Are here within my mind

©Marian Barker

The Puppeteer

She dances to his every whim
He controls her every move
He speaks to her of passion
He speaks to her of love

She calls him ‘sir’ and ‘master’
He treats her as a slave
He says she should obey him
He says she should behave

She listens to his every word
He speaks in words so fine
He tells her she is wonderful
He tells her “you are mine”

She waits for him to call her
He clearly pulls the strings
He has some other puppets
He keeps waiting in the wings

She only lives to please him
But he has another life
He puts her on a pedestal
Then goes home to his wife

©Marian Barker

The Magical Wood

The fairy lies down on her mossy green bed
A soft feather pillow ‘neath her sleepy head
A garland of flowers to keep her from harm
And a blanket of leaves to keep her so warm

Her cave in the forest is hewn out of a tree
And there lives the fairy as safe as can be
With cobwebs for curtains that she can peep through
And more soft green moss right there under her shoe

Her cups are from acorns she gathered one dawn
And she drinks fairy dewdrops almost every morn
She sits on a toadstool and brushes her hair
Then looks all around to find something to wear

There in the corner almost hidden from sight
Is a beautiful gown spiders spun in the night
And some soft cowslip slippers left there by the mice
When she puts all these on she feels special and nice

She dances in the sunlight with the breeze in her hair
She is such a happy fairy she hasn’t a care
Her friends in the forest all come round for tea
And they eat fairy cakes everyday after three

The birds know exactly when three o’clock comes
And they sit close at hand and feast on the crumbs
Everyone is so happy and everyone is so good
In this magical place in the magical wood

©Marian Barker