My First Love

You’re my first love, helped me grow My teacher – the best mum I know.   You’re my critic; advisor. My top fan – older and wiser.   You’re my blanket; soft and warm. My shelter – away from the storm.   You’re my safe house; protection. My compass – for lost direction.   You’re my […]

Confusing Messages

Advice for the Young Child

Shhh.

Not now, just wait.

I’m trying to work

and I can’t think straight.

 

Careful!

Don’t drop that cup.

You’ll spill all the milk –

I’ll have to clean up

 

Stop!

Don’t run ahead.

You’re too fast for me,

walk slower instead.

 

Gentle!

You play too rough.

It’ll all end in tears

and I’ve had enough.

 

Attention!

You’re dreaming again!

You won’t pass that test;

what will you do then?

Advice for the Adolescent

Speak!

Please use your voice.

Give your opinion

or you won’t get a choice.

 

Relax!

Stop stressing out.

Must live a little;

stop living in doubt.

 

Run!

Pick up your speed!

You must try harder

or you won’t take the lead.

 

Fight!

Don’t be their prey.

If you don’t fight back

you’ll just fade away.

 

Imagine

where you could go.

If you never dream

then you’ll never know.

(Un)helpful Advice

via Daily Prompt: Criticize

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I have friends with children who often come across overly-critical relatives/friends/random folk in shops,  who believe their advice is best.  I’m sure they often mean well, but many friends have felt like failures because they feel they aren’t doing the parenting thing right.  Here is a poem to reflect this scenario:

 

No bottles love, the breast is best!

When baby sleeps, you must have rest.

He’s only small, don’t let him cry.

You must ensure that nappy’s dry.

No wipes on him, his skin in new.

You can’t do that, I thought you knew.

Not walking yet, I’d check that out.

Oh naughty boy, he must not shout!

You need to clean, house is a mess

You must calm down, he’ll sense your stress

He bit again, need that to stop.

Look there he goes, another strop!

When back to work, you must be bored?

You’ve fancy stuff you can’t afford.

Her down the road, she’s never home.

Her mother’s got those kids alone.

You’re such hard work, what’s wrong with you?

I’m not allowed to say what’s true!

Not critical, just good advice!

You’ve hurt me now, you’re never nice!

 

I’m fortunate that I have an amazing mother who doesn’t get offended if I take or leave her advice. I often leave it 🙂

 

 

Names will Always Hurt

“The best index to a person’s character is how he treats people who can’t do him any good, and how he treats people who can’t fight back.”
Abigail Van Buren

It’s Day five of the Blogging University inspiration Course… well no, it’s actually Day 8 but I’m behind! For day five I had to create a block quote on my page and discuss.

I’ve chosen one from American columnist Abigail Van Buren. This quote reminded me it was anti-bullying week in the UK last week and the poem is about bullying. It’s all over the place but then someone who is being bullied might feel all over the pace too.

I cleared out my brain. Picked out those scathing words –

ones that caused pain. Dug a hole, buried

them deep.  Negativity joined the heap.

They disappeared into the ground.

Made way for fresh words – peace was found.

The dog kept digging but I shooed it away.

“This isn’t your garden to spoil,” I’d say.

I patted that dirt back down.

Pat, pat on the grass. There, there.

Yesterday the pack came around. Tore up my garden,

messed with the ground.  I couldn’t stop them.

Words ripped the flower bed apart. Mayhem.

Trampled tranquillity, goaded Calm.

They welcomed fragility.

Can’t fight much longer. Anger is strong.

Frustration stands by, thinking it wrong.

Sadness lays on the flower bed.

Happiness plays dead.

There’s too much mess.

I can’t put them back underground.

Sadness refuses to move. Hello stress.

There’s too much to fix.

Those old dogs and their tricks.

Your scathing words in my head again.

Negativity joins pain.

Anger’s bolted.

There’s no fight left.

Feeling bereft.

They’re winning.

 

Services no Longer Required

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POEM BELOW

It’s day four of the Blogging University Course and the task today is to write a poem relating to the photo prompt. There were four photos and I struggled picking just one. In the end I’ve picked two and I’ll post the other photo and poem later. I’m also doing two because I’m procrastinating over my mountainous college homework assessments, business paperwork and housework.

I thought the man in the photo could be sad and lonely. I started thinking that perhaps his wife has gone and I wondered what his life could have been like.  It’s a depressing one.

Sitting alone;

grieving, bereft.

She’s 2 years gone –

what’s now left?

 

Thinking way back;

busy, complete.

With their close pack –

life was sweet.

 

Children all grown;

partnered, attached.

Nest is now flown –

babies hatched.

 

Helping them out;

childcare supplied.

Without a doubt –

never denied.

 

Aged in a blink;

aching, tired.

Kids never think –

service required.

 

They withdrew

when hard times knocked.

Impatience grew –

empathy blocked.

 

She’s underground.

Lonely, apart.

They’re not around –

broken heart.

 

Where did they go?

Family craved.

Nothing to show

for love they gave.