Best Angell Poems
He looks at her
Body calm - head cocked.
Her body rigid
vibrating with excitement.
The Kiss -
Said goodbye
By Judith Angell Meyer — 4/4/2015
When you’re 70. A pondering by Michele Angell.
OK, so in June, I became seventy,
That’s a nice round figure to be,
I still have some of my own teeth
And with glasses, I’m still able to see.
My skin is not quite as firm
As it was just a few years ago,
And my bottom is heading down south,
On an uncontrolled ‘go slow’.
My bones and my body do ache,
Arthur Itis is not a good chap,
And I can’t wait to see just how fast
My boobs take to end up in my lap.
However, my mind is still a bit quirky
And my thoughts are just as mad,
I’ve space in my imagination, for
…well, at least minutes of fun to be had.
My body may be in decline
But my mind is as active as ever,
Although it sometimes fails,
To string two ideas together.
No, being 70 is not at all
What it’s really cracked up to be,
But it’s better than pushing up daisies,
I’m alive, but a silly old me.
They all came by our house each day,
The milkman with his horse and dray.
two tinfoil topped bottles on the step he lay.
They all came by our house each day,
The postman with his heavy load would come,
Christmas and Birthday cards for us and Mum.
They all came by our house each day
The coalman with his heavy black sack,
Dropped in the cellar, No nutty slack!
They all came by our house each day,
The ice cream man, his hand-bell would peal
A big bowl of ice cream for after our meal.
They all came by our house each day,
The rag-man blowing his bugle as if to say,
Have you any old rags for me today?
Yes they all came by our house each day,
Then time moved on and they went away,
No one selling their wares in the street today.
Inspired by Judith Angell Meyer.
© Dave Timperley May 2015
An Alien abroad. Another pondering by Michele Angell
I see you have made more changes, wherever I seem to roam,
To this beautifully landscaped place you lovingly call home,
It is certainly more efficient, with countless new inventions,
And I know you want the best, but not always with good intentions.
The wood for building looks stunning, the slate tiles are wonderful too,
The open log fires in the lounges, keep you warm in the winters so blue.
The furniture has lots of style, cushions plump and good for a nap,
The cupboards, the carpet, the bedding, a wonderful artistic trap.
But now it’s time to stop, to think about what you have done,
To ask yourself, if what you have, isn’t damaging someone.
The forests which supply your wood, is disappearing fast,
Slate quarries opening up the ground, with holes so vast
That machines with their dirty engines, noise and pollution
Can work non stop, for your new decorating solution.
Nearly everything man made, has planetary destruction,
It seems so wrong, so thoughtless, here’s my deduction -
MY species is planet wise, where we use only what we need,
I won’t ever be back until you stop killing the Earth with your greed.