4th January 2024 • The HERALD • Page 77 v THE NEXT HERALD IS OUT ON 25TH JANUARY v HERALD RECRUITMENT Poets Corner THE OTTER by Dorothy Lockyer© MEMORIES by George Jenkins© Friends by Lee Owers© The night was quiet, no one around to see As a shy, strange visitor crept soundlessly Into the garden, his nose picked up the scent Slowly but surely into the pond he went He ducked and dived, causing havoc in his wake Chasing the fish, his aim to annihilate. No chance to escape, swimming with all their might This way and that, in frenzied panic and fright. Alas such carnage met the eye that next morn The impact of what happened began to dawn. No longer a fish pond, just a garden pool The Otter had a banquet, went away full! Privileged to have such a rare visitor But he won’t be back as the fish are no more. Memories are precious and are there for you alone, nobody can take them from you, for they are your very own. Whatever the memories are, they do not go away, but are always with you, day a er day. When you are feeling low, bring one to your mind, and let the thought of it, leave sad thoughts far behind. Everyone should have a Pauline, she’s very kind, you see. No, you can’t have her, she belongs to me. And then there’s my friend, Lin, she always makes me laugh, driving round in her car, acting kind of daft. Now off to Lymington for to do a shop. Climbing up that hill, ladies please, please stop! There I am, dragging my leg behind, people laughing and joking, they don’t mean to be unkind. Now its time for coffee and we can make a stop. Make mine a latte with a brandy on top! SPARKLE ‘My cat called Sparkle’, by Pauline Gilbert, March 2022© White and tabby, long fur and short, she meanders past me to the door conveying her need and desire. Words, we do not require. The once sleek and lithe body… shows a tendency to…‘podgy’. e adventures of kittenhood now consigned to memory, we both proceed through life, much more cautiously. At night, she cuddles up, our bodies prone together. A paw reaches out and touches my face. No claws extended, just so pad on skin. My heart is rended. e purring continues…..such a comforting sound…. afore … the less pleasing and louder snore! She may be fast asleep, and beautiful to behold, but I remain conscious, basking in the glory of love, for another. She is now ‘my signi cant other’. Enjoying each moment, knowing not how each life weaves. May there be, many more moments, such as these. Shades of Blue by Carole Dear © Remember the Navy Gymslip? Changed once a week would do! The Nurses dress of deep Sky Blue With lengthy hem in case we grew! A special dress of Royal Blue With coat to match for a fancy do. A taffeta blouse from C&A, of Peacock Blue, Unworn for years but still kept today. What else can I say, I feel quite Blue, I know, off to the shops for something new… Just for a While by Richard Labram© Relentless time, breaking along life’s shallow shore, ebbs towards eternity with worn remembered pebbles. If I could pluck one stone from that acquisitive sea would it become devalued, or linger more precious... ...just for a while? Could I capture again the breath of a new mown day, airing in the sun before expiring on the breeze? Or, watch the lazing ne weather clouds lling half the sky, emptying all my cares... ...just for a while? Would I smell the rain, that in the summer wets, grows fragrant in the peat and then is quickly dry? Or, listen to the children happily at play; see them chase again, to hide and seek in hay... ...just for a while? If I could hold you close in that summer dress; the one you used to twirl – a spinning top of blue, hair ribbons in a whirl; see your happy face, kiss your sunny smile; if I could pause eternity... ...just for a while? 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 The Wind by Marlene Parmenter© If I open my mouth wide Will it ll me up inside? Make me oat through the air, Where I go I don’t care. Travel over hill and dale, Blown up like a yachtsman sail. And if I was really full Would I get to Istanbul?
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