WEDDING BELLS

Hear that eerie sound - echoing around -
Listen to the message that it's sending.
It's seeking you to bless - with joy and happiness -
To fill those days with love - never-ending.
Even doves that coo - if too, they only knew -
Would sing - like nightingales in springtime.
They would keep in tune - they dare not rest too soon -
Before two hearts are one - forever entwined.
Exchange the golden ring - angels above will sing -
Blue's a patch of sky - everything is bright -
And listen to the beat - the tappings of the feet -
Welcome the deep peals - of sheer delight.
There's music rich for two - the future's bright for you -
For every song that has been sung - brings a word of joy -
Give your love quite free too - promise to be ever true.
And always leave some inner self - a part of you that's coy -
For when the day is over - the bells will stop and rest -
And the life you now will lead - will be heaven-blessed.
Still floating on the breeze - will be notes that tease
And in the final beat will be - a message clear -
Never turn your back upon - the life you have now -
And always say a loving thing - making sure he's heard.
Smile at him when talking - smile at him when sleeping
Smile at him when walking - or when not in his sight -
Smile at him while eating - smile for ever keeping -
A special smile at waking - and see him smile at you!

V M Cubitt

BIRTHDAY BLESSINGS

Have a Happy one - delightful one -

One that stays for ever -

In your mind - one of its kind -

That brings family to-gether!

Have a special day - in every way

Full of Golden moments -

And lots of fun - with every one -

Plus just a dash of romance!

Enjoy this day - No skies of grey -

Your Birthday means so much -

For this is as the World should be - With everyone in touch!

V M Cubitt
(13 August 2012)

REFLECTIONS

Like a pool of water in the light.
Prisms of colour - vivid and bright -
Darting creatures opaque white.
This is a very beautiful sight.
Vivid sky - azure - then pea blue -
With flashes of purple shining through -
A dash of orange- subtle hue
Always different - always new!
And as the shimmerings so fine - it -
Falls like velvet ruby wine.
We remember back in time
When all the thoughts fell into line -
And simple things gave more!
Looking back is not a waste of time -
Lingering over memories is great -
We own so much - I have mine -
What’s left is yours - don’t wait -
For others to steal your thoughts,
And leave you with nought - abhor!
Hang on to every second clear
Then pass to those that you hold dear
And let them be your future fast
Feed only when your heart is low.
And keep the best to taste is last -
And savour long and oh so slow!
For memories fade too you know.
Looking back in a positive way.
Relishing good things is the goal -
Tasting past loves with a silver hand -
And sampling once more - almost in awe
To those who are strangers to this madcap land.
Looking forward too is a joy -
Positive thoughts unknown and clear -
That soon will be real - to employ -
O those we all hold dear -
So, heed my words - right from the start -
Look back with joy and hope and love -
Make sure your heart and friends won’t part -
And seal your fate with the Lord above.

V M Cubitt
(May 2015)

GOING CAMPING

I love camping - damping - stamping -
Under trees dripping with rain!
Muddy walks - whispered talks -
Down some ill-forgotten lane -
Creepy crawlies - ground that freezes
Coughs and snores - gigantic wheezes.
Grass stain clothes - dank and wet -
Music blaring - faces staring - and yet -
We still go camping!
We love camping - under a tent -
We love burnt sausages - cash well spent.
We love a fire that always goes out-
A kettle to boil with a broken spout -
Trudging through mud for an open loo -
And waiting for ages in the washing queue.
Cooking jellies that never set -
And yet -
We love camping!

V M Cubitt
(July 2017)

GROWING PAINS

When I laugh out loud - and shriek with delight...
Please don't be cross with me!
When I sleep all day, yet - chat away the night... Don't frown your thoughts at me!
And when the things I'm doing, suddenly go wrong...
The flat note I'm singing, is in the wrong song, - remember...
I'm not really bad!
I'm just an ordinary boy - and your son.

Washing up I break a plate - there's mud upon the mat...
Don't put the blame on me!
When I loosen the covers, and sit upon the cat...
Don't raise your voice at me!
Or when the chores I'm busy doing, never do get done...
And peaceful silence shattered, by my annoying hum, remember...
I'm not really bad!
I'm just an ordinary boy and your son.

When I stay out late at night - with other teenage yobs...
Please don't throw the book at me!
Playing rock and roll, is not - acting like a slob...
So, keep your nagging to yourself!
If filling my own room with boys, empty cans...
And grown up toys... is bad -
Then remember that this home is mine... as well as yours. And love me for what I am.
I'm not really bad!
I'm just an ordinary boy - and your son.

V M Cubitt

SUMMER TIME

When small the Summer days would
last for ever - and luckily
our memories do the same.
The Sun was always shining - the skies
a vivid blue - and picnics were the
common threads woven in this tapestry of
Life.
With bluebells sprinkled generously
over the patterns of sunlit shadows -
and sweet fever few and buttercups -
so alike yet different.
Shirt button and cornflower blue -
speedwell and sweet honeysuckle -
we remember them all.
But no one wanders to the woods -
so muddy - dull and base -
no one stands alone - aloft - or
gazes into nothingness any more-
or seeks memories to share -
rich or poor - no one goes
without a car - no one will share
these memories - that I know now
for sure.

V M Cubitt
(2015)

THE SCHOOL CHATTER-BOX

Schooldays ... what a memory! - when I was a little girl,
I had a chatter-box ... sitting next to me ...
He was a noisy chatter-box ... who nattered day and night -
He nattered even in his sleep ... we all know that's not right ...
He chatted non-stop in the class ... and yapped away through Choir -
The teachers were in great distress ... and here's the reason why ..
The class was never silent ... there always was a buzz ...
Of nittering and nattering ... such a noisy cuss -
But then the English master said, 'I can make him dumb!
Just stick his lips together so, - with everlasting gum.'
But never for a moment ... did this chatter-box go quiet ...
And so the glue fell off in blobs ... oh! what an awful sight! ...
But then the Head of Games did say ... 'I have a cunning plan
I'll kick the football at his mouth ... it won't come out again!'
But because he nattered on and on ... the full time whistle blew ...
He hadn't left the changing room, nor found his football shoe ..
So it wasn't till the end of term ... that things got any better
Every child in every class ... was given a news letter -
It clearly spoke of a dip in funds ... and of a Sponsored Week ..
Where mums and kind relations paid their offspring not to speak.
So at the school the boy was banned ... not to reappear ...
We even went to tell his mum to make it really clear ...
Yakkity yak ... chat ... chat ... chat ... what an awful din ..
So when we spied a workmen's hole ... we went and pushed him in .
The workmen, navvies and machines ..
with dusty rocks and clutter
Did not hear the young man scream - or his confounding chatter ...
So if you drive on the A27 ... by the Pig and Swan ...
Listen for the Chatter-box ... for he chatters on - and on -
and on

V M Cubitt

WHEN I WAS A LASS

Open fires, vendors cries, smoke that turned to smog
Lino feet and chimney sweep and husbands all have jobs!
Curling tongs, washday pongs, steam engines shining bright
Every day was magical with snow the purest white.
No ozone layer, Gary Player, football thugs in the street
Just happy days to stand and gaze, chew toffee apples sweet.
Chestnut roasting, stale bread toasting, apple stew and prunes
There lie all my memories, in some forgotten tune.
Here comes Muffin, Donald Duck, Whirligig and GI buck
The dopey Goons and air balloons,
Music played on rusty spoons
Propellered planes and unlit lanes
No locks on doors, or built on floors
But happy children's games!
No cruise at sea, or Sky TV - Our trip was down Southend
No Take That or Postman Pat, midfield or pitch defend.
Those cricket games played with famous names
No silly gear to wear
And picnics at the end of June, with just the bees to hear.
Tadpole fishing, wasteful wishing, butterflies to net and see
Collecting eggs for my tea
So can the idle youth dare say
It's 'great' today... Yesteryear was 'Boring'!

V M Cubitt

BRUCE

Red setters are known for bad manners
When they slurp and gulp down their food -
For it's not that they do it on purpose
Or go out of their way to be rude -
Each day that they hear the front door click
In their haste they break down the wall -
But I think I must mention
It's not their intention
To act like a slob - not at all.
Not short walks - just long romps they need
Good weather - sharp winds or the cold
And see how they suddenly turn deaf
Won't do a blind thing when they're told
As for rolling around in some bog marsh
Then drying themselves on your bed
It's plain as can be
As I've said constantly -
They haven't a lot in their heads.
So love them or leave them but never
Take for granted their warm loving heart
They walk with such grace
Talk with their face - and
Nothing will split us apart.

V M Cubitt
(circa 1995)