Grow Old with me

Grow old with me through every year

Through every laugh, through every tear

We've built a life both strong and true

And I'll keep growing old with you

We used to laugh beneath the stars

On dusty streets in rusty cars

Now we sit and sip our tea

And you still look the same to me

We kiss and I am young again

Like all these years together

How could I ever forget

Like the first time we met

Your hair is silver and mine is thin

but love still shines beneath our skin

I sing the tune we used to know

And I still feel the afterglow

The house is quiet, the garden still

But your warm hand still gives me a thrill

We've seen the world and watched it change

But you are still my sweetest friend

I'd count the moments and the years

And wipe away the tears

No more regrets no more delays

We've found joy in what we've done

Grow old with me through every day

Through every storm that passes our way

We've built a love time can't undo

And I'll grow old with you

 

The man in the mirror

 

The man in the mirror

Who can he be?

This man in the mirror

Can it possibly be me?

His taste for living so sweet

Still so many songs left unsung

Never thought what life was all about

Almost October before its begun

It doesn't matter how old he grows

As he watches his life go by

That face is a well written page

Just written by the pen of time

He hopes when he's been and gone

He leaves more right than wrong

Hopes there'll be someone to remember him

When he's a long time gone

This man in the mirror

Who's wise and never forgets

He looks in the mirror and smiles

This man with few regrets

 

Is there life without wi-fi?

 

 

Is there life without wi-fi?

You never miss the water till the well runs dry

That's how the old saying goes

Our wifi is crumbling around us

How will we manage?....no one knows

The fuse is blown in our router box

The electric sockets have died

What will this disaster mean to us?

We've no wi-fi my wife replied.

I'm not bothered about the internet

I can watch some TV instead

The TV works from the roof aerial

Yes, and also the wi-fi she said

I can watch TV on my tablet, I think

A big screen is not required

But how will it get to my tablet?

Without any wi-fi she enquired

So, Alexa, just play me some music

I'll listed to that instead

Alexa....are you listening to me?

No 'cos the wi-fi is stone dead

The man can't come out till tomorrow

So what shall we do till then?

Just sit and talk like the old days

Or go to bed early instead

An Ode to Agie

 

An Ode to Agie

I remember meeting Agnes [Agie] Bailey in the late 1960's when she came into our garage looking to borrow, of all things, a crow-bar!

This was an old lady, looking older than her years, because of the hard life she had lead, dressed in old cloths, tramp like, with a beret on her head cocked to the side and a cigarette hanging from the side of her mouth as she spoke in a roughYorkshire accent.

Who would have known that she had been an accomplished pianist and violinist in her younger days, giving concerts and lessons to children.

She had for many years run the family business as a Monumental Mason from a yard next to the Utley Cemetery in Keighley.

She was well known locally, and took up running the business single-handed, after other family members passed away, and being a skillful Sculptress, who as well as being able to cut the words into a gravestone was able to carve Angels and other figures required.

Agie also liked a drink and the bar staff at the local pub, The Roebuck, tell the stories of her comming in and ordering four pints at last orders, and then drinking them all before chucking out time!....and then getting in her van and driving the short distance home!

She was also well known for going through the local newspaper's obituaries and then going knocking on the bereaved families door to try and sell them a gravestone!

Stories of her on particular day walking around Keighley, dressed in a really smart red trouser suit, pill box hat and matching scarf and handbag, and telling observers, who did not recognise her, that she was off to t' “Paris Fashions” and would be staying with the daughter of a local industrialist whilst there.

She died in November 1981, age 70 yrs and when the piece of land that had been the site of her masonry business was developed into a small housing estate, it was named “Bailey Close”, a reminder of this local character.

Here are my respectful thought about her.

January 2023

 

Utley Cemetery.....possibly some of Agies handy work?

Who's the dishevelled figure shuffling along

Making her regular journey daily

A sad and lonely woman passing by

This solitary person, Agnes Bailey

This well known lady,long departed

Gone nearly fifty or more

Yet her legend still lives on locally

As we still talk about her fondly

Weary old cloths and side cocked beret

And the cig from the side of her mouth

We would guess the secrets of her life

As she wanders past on her way out

Those hands, gnarled and worn

Like hands of a working man

From years of chiselling gravestones

As she climbs back in her van

Who'd have realise that she had a talent

An accomplished violinist when younger

Giving concerts and teaching children

A practice not used any longer

Long live Agie in our History

As her ghost wanders Utley Cemetery

That long lost wandering soul

Still remembered in our memory

The Old Kissing Gate

 

 

 

The Old Kissing Gate

I often walk through an old rusty iron gate near my home, and because it is very old and an unusual design, I always wonder about its history....what tales it could tell if it could talk.

Here are my thoughts

October 2022

Its just an old kissing gate with the paint peeling off

Past its best after 100 years or so

No longer shiny with a fresh coat of paint

Just resting now, as the seasons turn a page

Keeping secrets of times long gone

When it was all shiny and new

With a lifetime of stories to tell

Standing proud in the morning dew

Battered by time and now hardly fits

All the paint gone as it squeaks in the wind

With all its early elegance now forgotten

As it creaks and squeaks on its hinge

Stories of children passing through

Swinging on it as they go to school

Laughing and joking as they skip along

Not worrying much as a rule

The sound of those clogs clattering by

As workers wind their way up the hill

Chattering away to all their workmates

Going home after their shift at the mill

Lovers leaning on it long after dark

As they say goodnight with one last kiss

Alone together, holding hands in the moonlight

With that lingering feeling of bliss

So will it get replaced at some future date

With something not so good

Something that doesn't need painting

A new one just made of wood

A walk on the lane

As I write this, we find the whole world in the middle of the corona virus….the biggest challenge to the human race in modern times and this is a small diversion to the everyday issues. Slaymaker Lane is where I walk most days and here's my thoughts.

                                                                                                                                         August 2020

In all these dark days, when things look so tough

When the sky looks so clear and blue

                                                I go for a wander on Slaymaker Lane

And all my daydreams come true

I go for a stroll on my leafy lane

And things never seem quite so bad

The first sight of a primrose in springtime

What’s better than that to make you feel glad

Reflections of the sun on the water’s edge

Showing glints of all the fish below

And a heron standing there motionless

 Waiting to have a go

That duck on the pond with it’s ducklings

Paddling as fast as they can

As I stand there talking to others

Watching water flow over the dam

The sight of the cows all grazing

Chewing cud in the midday sun

As I stop to talk to a jogger

Out for his morning run

This leafy lane in autumn

With a wind blowing all the leaves

And the distance hill on the skyline

Such a pleasant sight to see

Even the snow in winter

Can’t dampen my love for this lane

New and different sights every day

Just hope it can all remain

 

Why can’t a woman be more like a man?

Sorry Girls, I just had to write this one.....only kidding though!

Why can’t women be more understanding?

When they know we’re not set-up like them?

Can’t they understand we’re wired up different?

When will they realise…oh when, when, when!

Why do they moan when we thumb through a car mag?

Or settle on down with a beer to watch sport

Does the hooving need doing at that very moment?

So come on girls….make us a bite!

Why do they like to do so much shopping?

Trying on cloths for hours on end

When we need something, we just go and buy it

Or order on line, and just get it sent

Why don’t they give us a bit more sympathy?

When we go down with that dreaded man-flu

Its not that were weedy, or just like complaining

So just mop our brow, and make us a brew

So come on girls, be more understanding

Don’t treat us like some awful disease

Deep down you know you really love us

‘Cos we’re simple, straightforward and easy to please.

Reflections

In my children’s eyes I can see 

Both the future and the past looking at me

That enthusiasm of youth, no one can ever stifle 

The hope that comes from innocence, in this never ending cycle

No sign of any failure here, with all this youthful vision 

Just endless days of pleasure, not burdened with derision

Enjoy it for a while my boys, and make progress while you can 

For tomorrow is a mystery, just waiting to be had

The Old Man's Allotment

A day on the allotment is never a wasted day!

My Allotment

I’ve got m’iself an allotment 

‘Cos I like to grow m’i own 

Eat five a day, that’s what they say 

Better hurry up and get some seeds sown

We’re all old pals at the allotment 

Swapping produce to keep us all fed 

We gather together in all sorts of weather 

When it rains, we sit n'talk in the shed

As a child, I listened to m'i mother

When she said "eat up all y'r greens"

The temperature's rising, better get  more planted

Along with the sprouts and the peas 

I’m going on down to m’i allotment 

‘Cos I’m worried about m’i spuds 

No sign of them yet, not a leaf or a shoot 

On account of the rain and the floods

Time to sow more seeds at the allotment 

Put some canes up to support all the beans 

Beetroot and peas are bound to taste sweet 

Along with the sprouts and the greens

I’m spending more time at the allotment 

Now the sun has come out full blast 

I’ve done all m’i sowing, m’i seeds are all growing 

And m’i spuds are now sprouting at last

Now all’s not just right at the allotment 

With an influx of those dreaded moles 

I’ve done all I can to get rid of the pests

Now just need to repair all the holes

I spend so much time at m’i allotment 

People think it’s a love affair 

But I’m only keen on growing m’i veg 

Not women with long blond hair

I’m going every day to m’i allotment 

With m’i tools, ready for the next task 

Then I sit on m’i seat, in the sun and the heat 

What more can any man ask!

The Button Pusher

Have you ever been kept on hold on the phone while waiting to speak to someone in one of those large faceless organisations?…...I have, and look what happened


I’m in this queue, getting nowhere at all
On the phone, pressing buttons when asked
I only want to query my last phone bill
Oh how long will this torment last


That music, and then a computer voice
Assuring my turn will come soon
This machine doesn’t understand I need a human voice
It just keeps playing that damned tune


Ten minutes pass and I’m wondering what to do
Make some tea, or just read a book?
As I’m told again that my custom is important
I could do the crossword if I get stuck


More options, more buttons and then a real voice
Trouble is I don’t know what he’s saying
But in sheer desperation, I dare not let him go
After waiting half an hour, I’m just praying


Praying he’ll understand exactly what I need
As I sit here quietly going mad
I’m tempted to try and put him on hold
Would a naughty trick like that be so bad?


Then he promises to ring me back
And I say yes please, with a cheer
Now he’ll understand what its like to be on hold
As I tear my hair out sitting here.

Early Morning Dreams

Everyone tells me I should write a love poem.....something romantic....so here goes!


I lay and watch you sleeping

 The morning light on your hair

 Dreaming away, sleeping softly

 Breathing slowly, without a care


Your smooth skin so soft and tender

 Your soft skin touching me

 Your face, like the sun’s gentle rising

 Such a pleasant sight to see


Your hand reaches out instinctive

 Holding on gently to mine

 Your breath so warm and fragrant

 Then that gentle kiss...that’s just fine.

 

That kiss, and I'm young again

Like the first time we met

Then all these years together

How could I ever forget

 

I wonder just what you are dreaming

 As you lay in your gentle sleep

 Are they about our happy times

 Do they come from somewhere deep

 

You stir and then wake for a moment

  Then snuggle on down once more

 Your body is warm and inviting

 Just making me want you more