FAREWELL OLD FRIEND

FAREWELL OLD FRIEND

You served us well

maybe not every day 

was what we wanted

or what we planned

but here we are,

about to bid you farewell

and welcome in a fresh new beginning.

We've laughed and cried,

worked and rested,

been amazed and disgusted,

thrilled and disappointed..

and still we have hope

for every New Year is full of promise

for our families, our friends,

our future..

We welcome you with open arms

and hope for peace 

and understanding..

for tolerance...

and the ability to appreciate 

all our blessings.

©Crissouli Dec. 31, 2016

Images Pixabay

A TREASURED GIFT

A TREASURED GIFT

Where did it go, what did you do with it..

was it treasured, revered, acknowledged

or did it simply pass you by?

It was a bonus, a gift..

something to be valued..

did you notice?

Sometimes, gifts come beautifully wrapped

sometimes, simply thrust forward

as an afterthought, or an apology.

But this gift was well planned

a very long time ago

and it was given without conditions.

I hope you used it well

for you won't receive another

till four years pass by.

©Crissouli 31 Dec., 2016

Image Pixabay

SILENT WHISPERS

(c) Alexandra Daw

SILENT WHISPERS

Tired sentinels, waiting
not quite at attention
too many miles travelled
no longer strong
yet so many tales to tell
of days and nights of wandering
of searching and hoping
till tiredness overwhelmed.
Maybe he'll return
one day...
Till then, wait, silently..
life is full of silent whispers!

(c) Crissouli Dec 24, 2016

Note: This poem was inspired by the wonderful photo 

posted by my friend, Alex, 

who suggested it as a writer's prompt. 

I can't resist such a challenge, so, hope you enjoyed this.

WHISPER ON THE WIND

WHISPER ON THE WIND

I heard your name today, but no one spoke
I felt your touch, but I was alone
I reached out to hug you, my arms were empty
I long for just one more word, just one touch
Just to hear your name, hear you say mine..
Did I hear your name, or was it my heart missing you..
Just a whisper on the wind....

(c)Crissouli Dec 12, 2016

Image Pixabay

FOREVER

FOREVER

I dream of you calling my name

I run to you and you lift me on to your shoulders

How safe I felt then and in charge of the world.

"I can see forever, Daddy.."

"Forever's a very long way..'

"I know and I can see it, way over there.."

I run beside you struggling to keep up

while you laugh and take one long stride 

to my many short ones.

You pick me up when I fall over

brush me off and send me on my way.

You teach me how to bait a hook and land a fish

yet you never did persuade me to clean one

though I was quite happy to fillet and cook.

You show me how to make scones,

and pluck a poor chicken ..

Much later you look me out for driving lessons

and told me you thought I did very well 

getting through that busy intersection..

and were horrified when I said it was easy.. 

with my eyes closed..

till I burst out laughing. 

You soon warmed to my long term boyfriend

and you became great mates after we were married.

You loved our children and grandchildren

without reservation, 

though saddened that Mum missed them..

You were always the first to offer a hand when needed

you taught us all so much..

in particular, the love of family.

Though you stayed with us longer than most

it could never be enough.

We miss you Dad, two years seems like forever

but we thank you for the legacy you left behind,

our memories wrapped in your love.

(c)Crissouli Oct 18, 2016

Image (c)Crissouli 2007

A LINK WITH THE PAST..

(c)Crissouli

A LINK WITH THE PAST

A little bit of the past was brought home to me today

wrapped in brown paper, caring and love..

black pen on white had captured the spirit of the past 

a once grand hotel, the Belle Vue, lives again

in the glory of the artist's pen

wrapped grandly in old lace

standing in majestic splendour

beckoning to memories of a grander era..

pleading to be remembered, for the years it served

until it was destroyed in the dead of night

complete with memories and the anguish

of all those who mourned it's untimely demise.

(c)Crissouli

 Accompanying it was an even older sketch 

of memories

fondly known as the Windmill. 

Sketched in the old style, with scenes

evoking thoughts of those who knew our town

so long ago.

What would it have been like to live then?

Alas, we will never know, but we can still dream

providing our city fathers leave us some links 

with the past, with our heritage.

A little bit of the past was brought home to me today

wrapped in brown paper, caring and love.

(c) Crissouli 1983

TALL, BUT TRUE..

TALL, BUT TRUE..

Quiet, I was

as I sat beneath the tree

dreaming of how the Australian bush

had been especially made for me.

It was then I heard the sound of strangers

coming through the scrub

so, I climbed up, so very fast,

right up that old gum tree.

'Twas no place for an Irish lad

of this I could be sure

but as the folks got closer,

what they said I could not ignore.

For it seemed they were the Kelly gang

and they talked and planned a raid..

I thought of the saints of Ireland

and begorrah, how I prayed.

I moved a little in my fright

and uttered the smallest sound

alas, lack, it was enough

to be heard there on the ground!

They pulled me down from that tall tree

and gave me such a fright

they said they'd thought they'd kill me

till I told them of my plight.

For I was just a starving Irish lad

right down on my luck

I thought that I was finished

but they admired my pluck.

So, in return for vows of silence,

they kindly paid my fare

back to dear old Ireland

and my kin in County Clare.

(c) Crissouli 1983

 image courtesy of Pixabay

BACKGROUND TO THE POEM..

This was based on a story my Great Uncle Martin Dillon told me many years ago in a letter… that one of his brothers was in the bush, looking for work, food, anything and came across the Kelly gang. By the timing, it wasn’t Ned Kelly, but many ‘gangs’ would later claim to have been part of the Kelly gang, so who knows..According to Uncle Martin, they fed his brother and gave him a small sack of money and sent him on his way.

Two of his brothers did come to Australia, Michael and John, known as Jack.  Michael was the first, haven’t found exactly what year as yet, but I think it must have been early 1900s… Ned Kelly died in 1880. Michael sponsored John, then Molly (Mary) pre 1920 and Bridget, along with Susan/Susie in 1923 (though Susan stayed in New Zealand on the way, as another brother, James, was already there). 

Michael returned to Ireland to take over the family farm as their brother, Patrick, became ill. John was killed timber felling in the bush near Coffs Harbour in 1918 and is buried in an unmarked grave there. Molly married a Gerald (Edward G.) McDermott, in Australia in 1917.. he was killed in April 1918, a few short months after their marriage. Molly later married Tom Foley in 1920. 

Bridget was to marry Roy Leonard Swadling in 1924… they were my grandparents. She died when my mother was just 11, in 1942.

(c) Crissouli August 2016

DAFFODIL DAY AUG 26TH, 2016

TODAY IS DAFFODIL DAY

organised by the Cancer Council of Australia

It also happens to be the fourth Blogiversary of

this blog.

I started to write another post,

 but decided to dedicate this post

 to all my family and friends

 who have fought, 

or who are fighting,

against cancer.

You do it with such courage and grace, 

through the good times and bad 

amd I have nothing but admiration 

and love for you all.

My wish is that we will one day be free of this scourge and no longer will we embark on these journeys of troubled times.

 Maybe some of my readers would like to 

Dedicate a Daffodil

 for all those who have been touched by cancer.

 You can do so by going to this link

https://www.daffodilday.com.au 

Thank you.

Image courtesy of Pixabay

as are all on this blog unless otherwise credited.

FRAGILE FAITH

FRAGILE FAITH

The lights flash, instructions to be obeyed

the thrust of mighty power is evident

no fear, just excitement

rising as steeply as this majestic bird.

Where are they all going

these modern day commuters?

What beckons them to rise to the heavens

in a long, metal case

putting their trust in strangers?

How many even pause

to absorb their pass through Heaven..

So many chat, read,

finish those last minute reports

ever anxious to make a good impression.

Pause, enjoy this land of rainbows

take time to be awed by nature

we are here for such a short time.

Down we go, descending so many miles

yet just a few short minutes to go.

How our forefathers would stare in wonder

as our giant bird takes us safely home.

(c) Crissouli 1983

IT'S IN OUR HANDS...

Courtesy of Pixabay free use

IT'S IN OUR HANDS...

Some of us collect pottery, or stamps

others collect causes

"save this"

or "that"

or "them"

but how many of us

have even noticed the greatest cause of all.

We live our lives in sweet oblivion

dreaming of never ending tomorrows

as if we could stack them

one above the other

reaching to eternity.

When will we notice just how shaky

the foundations are.

We've no guarantee of tomorrows

or todays

unless we all unite

in the only cause that matters

the preservation of world peace.

(c)Crissouli July 2016

ALONE

Courtesy of Pixabay free use

ALONE

Two tiny cheeks were shivering

poised, tiny tears were quivering

silently, they slithered, down.

He stood there, quietly, all day

alone, he watched the children play

then turned, and sobbed

and left.

His tender heart was broken

from words that were unspoken

this tiny child was

mute.

(c) Crissouli July 2016

THEY WHO TREAD WITH ACHING HEARTS

CC BY-SA 3.0 

Creative Commons Licence

THEY WHO TREAD WITH ACHING HEARTS

They know not the politics of it all

nor can they find it in their hearts to care

it matters not who should be right or wrong

only that the days are ever long.

Through the dust and heat, they plod their way

each stumbling, each with his own internal pain.

Is there no one who cares, who wants to know?

These are people, our fellow beings, with no place to go.

We see their images, from our colour screens.

How they make us squirm in our comfortable chairs.

'Enough to make you cry' we say

'did you get that extra wine today?'

The mother lays her babe to rest, beside the road.

She has no strength to carry on, nor the will.

All days tumble, one into another..

Just a few hours ago, she laid down this small girl's brother.

People of the world, please care, 

if not for this woman, for all those who suffer still.

Let the politics be pushed aside

for understanding and compassion

must reach the whole world wide.

(c) Crissouli July 2016

A POOR MAN'S RICHES

Sawtell, NSW 

(c) Crissouli 2008

A POOR MAN'S RICHES

Rise and fall, rise and fall, o gentle ocean

Beat a pathway to the shores around the world

Carry hope and love and dreams to all who watch you

Gently lap away the ravages of time.

With sunshine that does bless your far horizons

Giving diamonds to rich and poor alike

With seagulls hovering over you in splendour

Guarding the mysteries of your depth.

Rocks, as silent sentinels, support you

Reflecting your playful spray in pools of life.

Oh, how the wind does love to tease you 

Lifting your surface far and wide

Oh, never stop, o mighty ocean

Keep rolling until the end of time.

(c) Crissouli 15th August, 1980

GATHERING RAINBOWS

GATHERING RAINBOWS

We're all so busy these days

running to and 'fro

no one has time anymore

to sit and chat awhile.

We're too busy chasing pots of gold

but we've forgotten the rainbows

that lead us to them.

They have many colours

and always are magnificent

but seldom do we care.

We're too busy to stop and admire..

there's this and that to be done..

as if it would be remembered when we are gone.

What others will recall

are the words we left behind

the times taken to help one in need..

the unexpected call to a friend alone.

For our greatest gift is part of ourselves

our time, so precious, to one and all.

With this, we can give rainbows

more precious than any gold.

(c) Crissouli July 7 2015

Image free to use by Pixabay

A GATHERING OF FRIENDS

A GATHERING OF FRIENDS

What a time they must be having

for how they loved to talk.

I can see them gathering

maybe ambling side by side.

Surely it would have to be in a garden

for it was in a garden

that each of them was happiest. 

To touch the earth 

and let it fall through their fingers..

they were then content.

Even those I did not know

they tell me they, too, loved the soil, 

the wind and rain upon their face..

or the sunlight playing on their hair.

Can you imagine the conversations - 

who did what and when and where?

Their laughter shall echo through time

for they all had such a sense of humour. 

What a gathering they must be having, 

our loved ones, in Heaven.

(c) Crissouli 1982

Image free to use by Pixabay

FROM GIRL TO LADY...

FROM GIRL TO LADY...

I can hear your laughter and see your smile..

and see you tilt your head to one side

I watched your eyes light up 

as he entered the room 

and see that quick glance you shared.

What a couple you were

so happy in each other's company.

You always had such pride in your family

and delighted in all they did. 

Still, I remember you as a girl

with that lilting laugh 

and that easy warmth you happily shared.

You never pushed me aside

or told me to go away.

Rather you knelt with me 

as I looked for that piece of broken glass

in Nona's path, we called it a clock.

You helped me to pick fruit from the trees

and suck honey from nasturtiums

and even played tea parties with me,

though I was so small. 

You understood my love of words

and gave me my first ever dictionary

(I treasure it still) 

and a bluebird necklace.

We were more than cousins

we were friends and confidants..

You were my little big sister

always supportive, never judgemental

We laughed, we cried, 

we shared family news

and solved the problems of the world.

Thank you for your guidance

your caring and sharing

and for being the girl and the lady I so admired..

Rest in peace, sweet Stella..

you will live on forever in the hearts 

of all who knew and loved you..

We will hear your name and smile

'Of course, I knew her well!'

(c) Crissouli  March 8, 2016

Image free use courtesy The Old Design Shop

HEADLINE

Image courtesy of Pixabay  free use

HEADLINE

Not for him the comfort

of a warm, cosy hearth

on a chill autumn night..

rather the deceitful friendship

of a cheap flagon

unopened - full of promise

emptied - full of nothing.

Few were his hopes, or wishes

or dreams.

Cold wet grass doesn't lead

to aspirations

or thoughts of grandeur..

rather to chilblains

and eternal desolation.

Tinned soup, cold,

his daily sustenance

at least for the first few days

after the fortnightly pension

and then -

whatever he could scrounge 

wherever he could find it.

The report was stark,

brutal, horrifying..

'VAGRANT BATTERED TO DEATH'

It came with our morning cuppa

we read it

shook our heads

and turned the page.

(c) Crissouli May 22, 1984

MEMORIES (SUCH SWEET SOUNDS)

I sit, listening to your voice
How warm and loving it sounds
even as you tell my small son
"Not like that, don't do that.."
interspersed with praise
as he struggles through the intricacies
of the organ, much larger than the one he's used to.

We take these occasions
a simple gathering of family
so much for granted.
You, and Dad, instruct gently
but firmly, while my younger brother,
the owner of the organ, shivers, quietly.
In the background, the voices mingle
each with their own part to play
in this family theatre.

For so long, I haven't heard your voice
we no longer have the same gatherings
though we do gather, without you.
Our family is still just that
but how we miss you
your presence, the sound of your voice
and how grateful we are
for the memories of a simple family gathering
recorded on a cassette.

 (c) Crissouli June 4, 1983

I AM - AS YOU ARE..

Image courtesy of Pixabay