16th November 2023 • The HERALD • Page 77 v THE NEXT HERALD IS OUT ON 7TH DECEMBER v GARDENING HELP - Near EXBURY We are looking to work with a person who has a really good knowledge of gardening and plants, including vegetable gardening. Someone who would be happy to visit weekly for around 6 hours. We are flexible on days. Reliable, keen to collaborate and share knowledge would be perfect. Please call - 07802 686844 HERALD RECRUITMENT Poets Corner FREDA NOW KNOWS by Margaret Bell© THE LOST SHEEP by Dorothy Lockyer © My Non Birthday by Isobel Smith© I’ve just had a thought, not considered before. Don’t worry, I won’t come depressed to your door. My spirits are soaring, my anthem now sung Because now I’m really too old to die young! At 18 years old, never gave it a thought ough actually now I review it a lot. I’ve collected great friends some in places far ung And thankfully now, I’m too old to die young. So come on dear friends mere youngsters you are Enjoy all the good times and wish on that star. Follow my ladder, climb every rung And like this old fart be too old to die young! I’m one in a hundred it has to be said Like the rest of my ock, very well bred. To the Shepherd who owns me, I’m worth a lot He leads me to water, a refreshing spot To hillsides where I can graze on the grass A comfortable life, nothing more can surpass! But I’m no longer a lamb, I’m a full-grown sheep I’ll explore pastures new; away I will creep. Away from the ock, I am gambolling free I don’t need a Shepherd to look a er me! e hour is getting late, I’ve strayed far and wide It’s dark and cold, I’m, oh, so very tired I miss the safety and shelter of the fold Perhaps I shouldn’t have been headstrong and bold ere might be a lion or bear lurking near And lamb is very tasty for them, I fear! My Shepherd kept me safe from danger and harm In his safe care I was protected and calm No one will miss me though, I’m hopelessly lost I’m one in a hundred, who cares that I’m lost? Freda now knows why her arms are so long, All that shopping she carries it’s not right it’s wrong! She knows there are fancy shopping bags on wheels, But she doesn’t want to look the age that she feels! It’s the only way to stop her fingers going numb, Its the only way it will stop her feeling glum… She really doesn’t know if she’s ready for this, Just to push or pull her shopping - it would be bliss! Freda will have to think and take a look, She’s thinking they can’t be hung like bags on a hook! She wonders if the shop do trial runs with these, It will save her arms and help her knees! Also what colour, plain or check? And is there a small pocket to put her specs! The thought of her arms nearly reaching her feet, Really - nearly makes her weep… Off to the shop where they sell bags on wheels, Just to push one around and see how it feels! She’s so taken in, she bought one there This has fixed Freda’s nightmare!! She knows she’s ninety and young at heart, And buying this shopping bag was a good start, No more fingers going blue and numb, And shopping with a smile and not feeling glum…. Look before you leap, It may be too deep. Turn and walk away, Fight another day. The other cheek to turn Though inside you burn. Never speak in haste, Hot air is a waste. Count to ten or more, Close don’t slam the door. Learn to walk then run, Slowly is more fun. Help someone in need, It’s better than greed. Don’t just walk on by, And turn a blind eye. Give for no return, Is something to learn. DO THE RIGHT THING by Jim Dolbear© We love our little gnomlings, Who were made in our own mould And life was oh so blissful Til they could not be controlled. Gnomlings grow so very quick And as every parent fears ey get too big for their boots Swearing and drinking beers. ey became complete Gnome wreckers. Partying every night. Hats and beards ying about It was not a pretty sight. One night the Gnome police were called, Because stork was so annoyed. ey’d puked up in his lovely pond And the Lily’s were destroyed! Me and the Mrs had had enough. We could not stand it any more, So I took her hand and ew up high And took her back next door. We landed very awkwardly, When she gave me a little prod, And said “I think this was a good idea, But I hope you haven’t bent your rod!” Game of Gnomes Episode 3 by Marlene Parmenter© But hark, in the distance, what is that I hear? e voice of my Shepherd, calling loud and clear I bleat and bleat loudly so he hears the sound He lays me on his shoulder, saying found, found! He bore me back to the shelter of the fold I felt less like a sheep, more like precious gold. ey rejoiced and partied, what a happy sound Just for me, one in a hundred; had been found! Nocturnal birds in sibilant causerie Forest creatures in distant revelry While nature’s blanket dims their rivalry And stills the air to peaceful reverie How brief is this tranquillity As hostile meetings in darkened shrubbery Remind, if only momentarily at man alone enjoys in camaraderie Nature’s Philosophy by Victor Timmons© The copyright of all poems that are published in The Herald belong to the author and must NOT be reproduced without their permission Send your poems into The Herald, 2 High Street, Hythe, Southampton SO45 6AH
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