PIG IN A FIELD

They say there's now't as queer as folk,
Scratch below the surface
And see what's revealed.
It's said that a pet is a reflection
Of the its owner,
Though I'll say nay lad
Not if they've a pig in a field.
Cat owners should be strung up
But it's keepers of dogs
That need a good slap,
Who on earth would be dragged
By a mutt on a lead
Then have to pick up their crap.
Iguanas,  tarantula,  chinchillas
And even rats and piranhas
Have all in a way appealed.,
But,  the person who wins my vote
Is the young lady in East Yorkshire
Who owns a pig in a field.

Phil Hall. December 2016
Copyright philthepoet.blogspot.com

ALWAYS

Although I cannot hear
You're always near,
Although I cannot see you
You're always dear.
My father, my hero, my dad
To think of you
I'm glad
Sometimes sad,
Always with me
The days we had.
You shaped me
Moulded we,
Made the family
To what we'd be
Our rock

Our oak tree.
Far off days
Memories
Of the old ways,
Respect and regard
Always,
My father
Until the end of days.
Thank you father
Thank you dad
I miss you.

Phil Hall.  February 2016
Copyright philthepoet61.blogspot.com

HAVE A WORD

I want to have a word
A word with myself,
But, not as I am today
No no no.
I want to talk to the youth
The boy I once was,
Full of fire, flights of fancy
And bursting with vigour.
Wildly optimistic,
Forever unrealistic,
The world to me
Just a playground.
I burned with notions
Smouldered with emotions,
The future was over there
So very far away.
I was young, fit and strong
I was never wrong,
There was no time for tomorrow,
All that existed was today.
I'd tap myself
On the shoulder,
Converse with authority
Clear voiced, not too loud,
Your world is here
Not up there in the clouds.
Tell me of the places been
People met
And wonders seen,
To work out who I am
And what life means.
I want to have a word
A word with who I was before,
As I stand here with greying hair
Bemused expression
And withering stare.
Creaking joints and aching bones
Voice stentorian, even monotone,
This is what you've become
The final portrait
The answered sum,
I'm not you anymore
What is it you see?
This is your future
Do you really want to be me?

Phil Hall.  January 2016
Copyright philthepoet61.blogspot.com

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