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Kaye Locke Poem
I’m turning into mother
Eyebrows, nose, and lips.
Bosoms hanging, almost, to
my child bearing hips.
She’s grumpy and forgetful
And I’m growing much the same.
Tables now are turning
In the parent child game.
It’s me that does the cleaning,
Feeds and dresses too
Who always asks before we go
‘have you been to the loo’?
Her childlike ways increasing
throwing tantrums, snubbing food,
and me left to be patient
understanding, kind, and good
I’m turning into mother.
But the future I can see.
‘cos they tell me life’s a circle,
and soon, that child will be me.
Copyright © Kaye Locke | Year Posted 2012
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Kaye Locke Poem
Standing on this sun-soaked beach without you,
sea splashes mix with salty tears
that the gentle wind brushes from my cheek.
My toes curl into the soft white sand
as they did whenever you caressed me.
Is it a mistake to return so soon,
whence the last strands of happiness lie?
I blight this place which you once graced,
laying lithe and golden on its shore,
out dazzling the sun with your luster.
Laughter from unknowing revellers offends me
and I fix my gaze to past horizons,
where my passion knew no end,
before this shroud of misery enveloped me,
In an echo of your pall.
Crisp white sheets filled with fragrant breezes
Glide the distant yachts to quiet harbours
Safe from storms they’ll rest peacefully, like you.
Whilst I remain, marooned in turmoil.
At sea.
At loss.
Alone.
Copyright © Kaye Locke | Year Posted 2014
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Kaye Locke Poem
Slowly, slowly,
advancing with tender steps,
emitting clouds of scarlet butterflies
with each tremulous breath,
the golden maiden
through viridian fronds quietly crept
Brazenly her locks tumbled
shrouding her shoulders
in champagne curls.
And the dusky angels
turned their heads in envy
as even the spiders silk seemed coarse
The heavy shadows blurred
the silvered path she trod,
where startled dandelions
puffed their clocks,
though time stood still
and sunrise never came
In the blessed grove
where the soft grasses
solemnly bowed to the moon,
the lilac air filled
with the songs of souls awoken
by an unfamiliar beat
And as they watched
that unknown maid,
her iridescence faded,
turned to pearl translucence
as, with grace, she slid
into their ethereal embrace
Copyright © Kaye Locke | Year Posted 2015
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Kaye Locke Poem
Panting and puffing I’m feeling the burn
Even though I’ve done only a minute
This machine is the work of the devil I’m sure
Oh god, I think I might vomit
I’m treading the mill to try and get fit
But I think this thing’s going to kill me
My bosom is heaving I’m sweating like mad
All this jiggling…. I now need a wee…
Increasing the incline and upping the speed
My little legs pumping like crazy
I feel the weight lifting I’m floating on air
Oohhh… every thing’s going quite hazy
Finally, slowly, it grinds to a halt
I’ve done TEN WHOLE MINUTES … can’t talk
Although I’m all wobbly I’m feeling quite chuffed
Maybe one day I’ll jog, not just walk
Copyright © Kaye Locke | Year Posted 2015
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Kaye Locke Poem
I’ve tried to teach you all the things
that growing up will bring,
like working hard and being good
and all that kind of thing.
Yet, there’s lots of things I’ve yet to tell
and some things are quite sad.
Like growing up forgetting
the things that made you glad.
You find out that the moon
is not the silver you once thought.
The sun is not the golden ball
you thought the clouds had caught.
You soon learn that the fairies
don’t come when you grow old.
That snow is not for playing in –
it only makes you cold.
But if, like me, you’re lucky
and have stories you can tell,
to children who will listen
and learn their lessons well,
you’ll keep afresh the memories
of all your childhood dreams,
so growing up won’t be as bad
as you might think it seems.
Copyright © Kaye Locke | Year Posted 2014
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Kaye Locke Poem
The bubbles of wealth
used to rise in the glass
and tingle on my lips.
The label that I wore with verve
Skimmed lightly cross my hips
Hair in fashionable disarray
I’d sashay round the town
Always remembering to cross
My knees whenever I sat down
I was finished y’know in
Switzerland. I folded napkins there
And learnt to act in a modest way
That behove a lady fair
In scarlet I went hunting
And found myself a beau
Not the handsomest of gentlemen
But he did have a chateau
I bathed in foreign sunshine
and royalty were friends
But it was just illusion
And soon the summer ends
And now its only tea
That’s sipped from paper cups
No more the trips to Henley
or Badminton or such
Gold has now turned silver
and my hips are not my own
and should I try to cross my knees
I’d likely break a bone
Copyright © Kaye Locke | Year Posted 2010
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Kaye Locke Poem
Through the fog of tedium
My thoughts turn to you
You dusky seductress
Wrapped in silver sheets
Waiting to melt at my lips
I cannot resist your call
Though you lead me
to this fattened state
I’ll readily accept my fate
I’m yours oh perfect chocolate
Copyright © Kaye Locke | Year Posted 2015
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Kaye Locke Poem
Always wear thongs when you’re fifty
and let those buttocks bounce
Don’t give a jot ‘bout your wobbly bot
Just flounce that extra ounce
No twin-set and pearls
nor hair in tight curls
just denim and boots
And disguising your roots
Not growing older
Just bigger
And bolder
Keep a smile on your face
And grow old in dis-grace!
Copyright © Kaye Locke | Year Posted 2010
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Kaye Locke Poem
Every day I use my time
Writing poetry line by line,
Sometimes I can make it rhyme,
Sometimes....... I can’t.
My head is full of tum te tums
When I just want to write
The serious stuff on big long lines
like proper poets might
The words come out as simple ones
Not intelligent or deep,
Nor contemplative trains of thought
that make the reader weep
Poetically inclined I’m not
It doesn’t really matter
I’ll just keep writing day by day
And maybe I’ll get batter er..better
Copyright © Kaye Locke | Year Posted 2010
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Kaye Locke Poem
The apples ripen red, delicious
On the tree
Then fall
Where animals feast
And insects crawl
And creep
Under their skin
Rotting them from the outside in.
Copyright © Kaye Locke | Year Posted 2014
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