A poem cleverly written.

Saw this poem the other day it's appropriate for anyone who drives a car with a passenger. I hope you enjoy reading it till the end :)

By Pam Ayres,

I have a little Satnav

It sits there in my car

A Satnav is a driver's friend

It tells you where you are

I have a little Satnav

I've had it all my life

It's better than the normal ones

My Satnav is my wife

It gives me full instructions

Especially how to drive

"It's sixty Ks an hour", it says

"You're doing sixty five"

It tells me when to stop and start

And when to use the brake

And tells me that it's never ever

Safe to overtake

It tells me when a light is red

And when it goes to green

It seems to know instinctively

Just when to intervene

It lists the vehicles just in front

And all those to the rear

And taking this into account

It specifies my gear.

I'm sure no other driver

Has so helpful a device

For when we leave and lock the car

It still gives its advice

It fills me up with counselling

Each journey's pretty fraught

So why don't I exchange it

And get a quieter sort?

Ah well, you see, it cleans the house,

Makes sure I'm properly fed,

It washes all my shirts and things

And keeps me warm in bed!

Despite all these advantages

And my tendency to scoff,

I only wish that now and then

I could turn the f ****er off.

Happy Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day to all mums. 

I found a few Mothers saying that I wish to share. 

Mothers hold their children's hands for a short while, but their hearts forever.

If I had a flower for each time I thought of My Mother, I could walk in my garden forever.

I found this Irish Proverb.  A man loves his sweetheart the most, his wife the best, but his Mother the longest.

The Wind

I was travelling near Broken Hill, NSW Australia a couple of years ago and I came across a piece of paper with these words written on it.

the wind is scary,

the wind is sad,

the wind is pleasant,

the wind is bad.

that wind that blows across the plain

tells us to be careful and look for rain,

the wind that howls at night,

tells us that death is in sight,

the wind that blows from the North

tells us that hot days are coming forth.

the wind can tell us stories happy and sad,

it can direct and divert us to good and bad,

it can be our greatest friend I've learned to trust,

but when it is upset, it covers us with dust.

so give us the wind that is soft and gentle -

the wind that rocks the cradle soft as a mantle -

the wind that caresses the flowers in their bright array,

is the wind I love to greet me at the break of day.

Through My Eyes

Shopping at the supermarket with my 85 year old father is rather fun, for he is discovering new things 'through my eyes'.

so off we go shopping and trolley he does push
up each aisle, but along the way
he stops and says,
"daughter, what is that shape, what does it say"?
i say, "feel it father, feel what shape it is",
he puts both hands out to touch it, with a smile upon his face

"it feels like plastic, daughter but tell me, what's inside it"?,
say I father, "it's peaches in slices",
he said, "oh you don't say, peaches always came in tins",
i said, "not always these days, father"
he pushes the trolley and see the shapes of people
man or women, he said he can't tell

i asked him would he like some potato chips
the reply was, "your mother wouldn't buy those"
well i said, "let's give them a try,
you can sit and listen to the cricket
whilst you eat your chips",
another big smile came upon his face

"what are those things on the shelf, daughter"?
i explain each item, what it's used for
what the ingredients are, he listens with interest
and he asks more, seems I never stop talking,
now when we go shopping he has memorized
where most things are :)

Misty

things that are misty are certainly never clear
the mind is clouded with ’something’ she fears
that ’something’ will suffice one day
and then all her pain will go away.

in the meantime she sits and thinks
takes herself a little drink, it takes away what she thinks,
she then unscrews the bottle of the pills
takes a handful to her mouth, and swallows.

next day she wakes in a strange place
though things are clouded in her mind
she vaguely remembers what she did
that ’something’ has not surfaced in her mind
written by JMD

*I can recall not long ago that I read about a women who tried to take her own life, so hence I wrote the words above.