It's not unusual to meet people who are convinced they know what will happen to them when they die. These people are supported by faith - or not, as the case may be.

I am not so sure ...

No doubt

There’s two schools of thought
And, for me, the jury’s out
Here today, gone tomorrow
Or immortality, no doubt

Yesterday, I had my hair coloured - if I didn't I would be totally grey, like the sky is today. It should soon be spring but the weather seems to think otherwise.

Autumn

Leaves are turning golden brown
While my hair is turning grey
Soon the branches will be bare
A measure of each passing day

The heat has gone from the sun
The wind whips across the sky
Autumn is now upon us
And it is time to say goodbye

It's raining cats and dogs here. Got soaked coming back from a meal out with friends.

Rain

Umbrella? It’s useless
When it’s blowing a gale
But with your hand in mine
This pair will never fail

We lean into the wind
We’re battered by the breeze
Our true love protects us
And we reach home with ease

Once safe inside and dry
With kettle on to brew
Snuggled up on the couch
We watch the storm subdue

And so we go to bed
Besotted with love’s charms
We rest our weary heads
Upon each other’s arms

The slow pitter patter
Against the window pane
Confirming we are safe
Out of the pouring rain

Last weekend was spent at my daughter's home and, apart from spending precious time with her and her other half (and the other members of my extended family who joined us on the Saturday), I also enjoyed some magical moments with my grandson.

Sausages for tea

Nanna Rainbow is my Mum’s mum
And she’s come to stay with me
I say: Hey, do you know what?
And she says: Sausages for tea

She’s gonna read me a story
But not till I’ve had my bath
‘Bout Thomas the Tank engine
But right now she’s making me laugh

Until I shout: No! Nanna! Stop!
She tickles and kisses me
Now then! That’s enough Nanna!
Look! I’m trying to eat my tea

Things happen and they make us happy, or make us sad or angry. We feel. Now and again, something happens that we've experienced before but our reaction is different. Maybe, we don't react at all. Either way, it's a sign.

Now, I know

There was a time when
In your presence
I could not breathe

I was a shadow
Evaporating
In the sunshine of your smile

Nothing mattered
Except being with you

And then you were gone
And I went on, without you

Today, seeing you again
I am not shaken by the sight of you
Not stirred into conversation

I watch you and wonder how
I filled the gap that you left
In my heart

I watch me and realise
I have changed
My emotions are rearranged

Now, I know
I don’t need you
Anymore

I did an online questionnaire today and at one stage was asked if I preferred to be spontaneous or to have every minute of the day mapped out. I like a bit of both!

Thinking ahead

Thinking ahead is called planning
Something we all do, every day
You may say it’s a good idea
But I don’t quite see it that way

If I were to open my eyes
Mid air, on my astral travels
I might spy a golden future
And how life, with you, unravels

I’d then know for sure what will be
And how our old age will pan out
But I guess not having a clue
Driving blind, is what life’s about 

So I’ll accept what each day brings
As suiting our two hearts entwined
Whether it’s joy or some sorrow
Because, together, we won’t mind

It is strange. I live one life, going about my daily business, and, separately, the poems come.

Peace

The hum of the machine gun dies
I can hear you’re breathing, and yet
It’s not what you put into life
But who you take out, don’t forget

You must move through each day with grace
And should keep to the narrow path
Learn to face up to all your foes
And then cope in the aftermath

If ever true love were to reign
Its triumph, so richly deserved
Is the smile of each bless’ed child
While a peace fire is preserved

Today, I experienced Wii Fit for the first time. I entered my height - and it declared me aged 37. Yeah!

And then ... my place on the Leeds University 10-pin bowling team in the early 70s was not wasted; I still have the wrist spin, and can still lose with grace. It's the taking part that counts?

Enough's enough

There comes a point
In every day
When you have to say
Enough's enough

The clock strikes eight
Bedtime for a boy
Bath, and a story
Then to sleep, now!

Have spent today in Milton Keynes trying to find matching dresses for three beautiful young ladies. We found the perfect design and colour in the first shop and then checked all the other clothes retailers before returning and making a purchase.

Size 22

With but a quarter
Of my love for you 
I could die happy
In size 22

During the workshop yesterday, Chris Waters introduced us to the phrase 'when tigers smoked long pipes' - one used to open a story in Korea, like our own 'once upon a time'.

Today's poem was inspired by the image of those tigers. Thank you, Chris. I enjoyed writing this nonsense. 

When tigers …

D’you know, when tigers smoked long pipes
And elephants wore pyjamas
King of the forest was an owl
And world was ruled by llamas

When a smoking ban was decreed
Owl twisted his head a full turn
The tigers refused to listen
Thinking they had nothing to learn

So they puffed away all day long
Not helping world peace for one jot
Then the elephants sat on them
In place of cushions, they’d forgot

Now, the elephant’s hide is thick
And the tigers had to agree
The llamas were right all along
Life is better when air’s smoke free

Another long day. I woke at 5. Couldn't sleep, so I turned on the laptop and worked instead. Reminded me of the old days when I was on my own, working at the strangest hours and sleeping in the afternoon to catch up.

Couldn't do that today. Long walk this morning - part of the diet! And then, this afternoon, I attended a writers' workshop led by one Chris Walters - all about starting and ending short stories. Wonderful advice, so long as you are not suffering from the dreaded writer's block.

A Clean Page

The writer’s block
Always starts
With a clean white empty page

And while sharpened pencils
Stare at the space to fill
His rage

Starts to build and, as it grows
Wild thoughts fly
Around the room

He grasps at straws
He can’t hold
And is faced with certain doom

Knowing that nothing worthy
Will escape
From his numbed brain

He closes down for today
Tomorrow
He’ll try again

I've had a mixed day today. Back to my line dancing which lifted my spirits but the hall was so cold I left my scarf and gloves on for the whole lesson. Arrived home to find bad news - can't go there yet. Spent this evening in good company, but have drunk more than I should have and the chocolate beckons. So much for the diet?

This one, I wrote a couple of days ago, when the s**t had not yet hit the fan.

Cucumber Slice

Oh, the knife must be sharp
For a blunt edge won’t do
Once I’ve peeled off your skin
I’ll be thin slicing you

The seeds will be scattered
I will suck up the juice
Save two, for eye patches
I will then let you loose

A few slipped into Pimms
Others sandwiched sans crust
Yes, my cool cucumber
You’re a dieter’s must

The prompt for this one was 'pencil thin'. It's a bit saucy; don't read it if you are of a delicate constitution?

A Letter of Love

To my dearest darling
That’s how it would begin
On pink perfumed paper
In a hand, pencil thin

I should then stroke the page
As if I brush your heart
And send my thoughts to you
While we’re driven apart

But then, when you return
We would fall into bed
Where I’d confirm my love
With your pencil instead

This is another one prompted by a MW flash poetry challenge. Flashing works?

Who said that?

Who said that?
Who dared to raise his voice
A touch above a whisper
With words not of my choice

Who are you?
Standing at my shoulder
A soul, within a hair’s breadth
A heart beating bolder

Why not stay?
And draw even closer
We’ll weave wonders, if you will
Be my dream composer