It’s Funny That?
I used to fall out of bed
3 or 4 times a week
at least
when we were together.
Now I’m on my own again
it never happens?
I reckon
it must have been my
wise old soul
trying to get away from you
while my stupid
feelings were resting!
3 or 4 times a week
at least
when we were together.
Now I’m on my own again
it never happens?
I reckon
it must have been my
wise old soul
trying to get away from you
while my stupid
feelings were resting!
© Paul Tristram 2014
Irascible Old Me
All sharp edges and cranky on the inside,
morning madness hangover bashing,
midnight moon howling craziness.
Shadowboxing my own reflection
and sneakily sticking a real one in.
The street kids don’t trick or treat
our door after the third great explosion.
The neighbours scurry away crab-like
whenever they see me stamping
and a-raving half naked into town.
I keep the Local Constabulary in business,
I give the Magistrates a real reason
to get up and go to work of a morning.
They broke the mould when they made me
I tell thee, I’ve been an handful since
my birth and I’ll be an handful until I die.
© Paul Tristram 2014
Servicing The Soul
Sometimes it’s a Night out on the Lash with Friends.
A Sunday Roast at noon in a Country Pub.
A lazy afternoon indoors watching favourite movies.
A kiss full of nothing but love and truth.
A Christmas Tree bursting with magic.
A walk down by the river, up a mountain or in the woods.
Sharing a bottle with your dreams and wishes
upon that beach at Midnight.
A dog with big brown smiling eyes.
The once tall clock of your Hometown.
A corned beef pasty and a bag of cockles from Neath Market.
A child with furrowed brow of deep concentration and wondering.
Your Lovers deep arms holding you warm with gentle caring.
There are many ways to Service the Soul
Each one Special and Unique.
Be wise and do not let Life ever distract you
from any of them for too long.
© Paul Tristram 2014
Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories, sketches and photography published in many publications around the world, he yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight, this too may pass, yet.
You can read his poems and stories here! http://paultristram.blogspot.
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