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Bea Rutherford Poem
We haven't won since sixty six,
oh the agony, hope and doubt
as the World Cup comes around again
and on penalties we go out.
The game we gave the world to play
belongs now to Italy, Spain and Brazil.
we visualise how we conquer them
but know we never will.
The skills we see out on the pitch
the sharp play, the balls to feet,
are not taught in academies
but in the park or on the street.
At night dreaming of football
the ball goes straight between the sticks,
each boy is England's captain
and it's nineteen sixty six
Copyright © Bea Rutherford | Year Posted 2017
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Bea Rutherford Poem
The sparklers crackle as they sparkle
and rockets light up the the sky
but, as the Catherine wheel is spinning,
who thinks of the guy
who took his politics to Parliament,
along with barrels of dynamite,
was then caught then executed
when the fuses failed to ignite.
No cracker jacks for Mr Fawkes,
a subversive type of bloke,
who when his plans were tested,
watched them go up in smoke.
so as you munch on hot chestnuts,
please recall his fate
and light the touch paper
of your own views before it's too late.
11/05/16
Copyright © Bea Rutherford | Year Posted 2016
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Bea Rutherford Poem
Looking in the mirror my eyes meet
fine lines on my brow and crows feet,
and as I view
a wrinkle or two
emerge. I give up in defeat.
After a life time of neglect I'm aware
that no cream or potion could ever repair
too many days in the sun,
moisturising not done,
Oh aging is so unfair.
Copyright © Bea Rutherford | Year Posted 2016
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Bea Rutherford Poem
When I first saw you today
I thought a million things to say.
How pretty you are, your smile so sweet
your manner of dress demure and neat.
You seemed ageless, shy not coy
Like the girls I admired when I was a boy
My life's about my need to sing
but the dangers that can bring
folk songs taught at my mothers knee
decreed my homeland should be free.
forced into exile I had no choice
but to give my countrymen a voice
My life was structured, all routine
No wild adventures intervene,
no chance to rebel, no cause to shout
my parents had my life mapped out.
I did well enough but now I could cry
for the adventures I let go by.
But when we talked, the world you knew
semed to fit my point of view.
I'm a stranger in an allien land but you seemed to understand how lost I felt and how alone
betrayed by friends driven from my home.
How much I wish that we could have met
when I was younger but I forget
that I had lived a life and it was done
long before yours had begun.
But oh the opportunities I missed
and oh the girls I aught to have kissed.
A single kiss then we part
Our friendship's lost before it's start.
a short aquaintence, incomplete
but where else could we ever meet.
Putting down the pen the poet said
"you can only meet, here,in my head
Copyright © Bea Rutherford | Year Posted 2016
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Bea Rutherford Poem
I only wish it wasn't so
but I feel the need to go,
his deceit
my defeat,
destination? I don't know.
Copyright © Bea Rutherford | Year Posted 2017
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