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www.ilkestonlife.com ILKESTON LIFE November 2021 8

Email your poems, Taste of Freedom
short stories, Some return only in their coffins and are buried
cartoons, etc., to Soldiers by Les Acton by Mary Taylor
poems@ilkeston- with a bugle call
life.com Some return crushed and broken, many do not I went on holiday this year,
or send to Ilkeston We take them from the factories and the land. return at all A little while ago,
Life, 1 Bath street, We drill them so that they can march in line They die in defence of our nation and for causes We were lucky with the weather,
Ilkeston, Derby- We prepare them as best we can vague to you and me Although the journey slow.
With lessons on guns grenades and mines.
YOUR It does not matter what they did before alive their memory. Tired on our arrival,
shire, DE7 8AH
But we owe it to them and their loved ones to keep
Cup of tea and ready to sleep,
How they lived or how the played the game
Here’s to soldiers everywhere, that patriotic band
Feeling cool we lit the fire,
There just numbers when we send them off to war
A credit to their families and to their native land
Then, Bleep - Bleep - bleep.
Unless they die few will learn their names.
So please spare a thought today and every day
SPACE Here’s to soldiers everywhere that patriotic band For all those soldiers everywhere may they soon be Fire Alarm, Oh! blow,
home to stay.
A credit to their families and to their native land
Not one but two, Bleep,
May luck always befriend them,that heroic few
Which one? Find help,
Here’s to soldiers everywhere, your countries
There’s no counting sheep.
should be proud of you.
The next day visiting lovely Gar-
dens,
Asperger’s Children of When the local shop runs out of Mists of Mystery I managed to get locked in their
Loo,
Syndrome Eternal Fear your favourite brand By Janet Reeve It had a solid swollen oak door,
While having a shower the soap
slips out of your hand Couldn’t open it, my anxiety grew.
By M. S. Harvey © 2016 (First By M. S. Harvey © 2019 The Almighty Creator up above
Revision) We are the children of eternal fear, When the weather forecast gets it Weaves a thick foggy blanket I started knocking and shouting,
below,
There’s a chasm between me and Born ever burdened by anxiety’s all wrong Wreathing the November coun- Voices, ‘ Fetch a screwdriver, not
them – a chasm of perception. yoke, And you can’t find the album of tryside a knife’
As though, I and they are in, a Trembling in terror, with jangling your favourite songs In mystery. Doorknob fell off, Handyman gone
different dimension nerves, I suppose its part of life when Encircling the gaunt leaf-stripped home
What they see is a mystery – for Pierced to the core by nature’s things go wrong trees, Someone said ‘Fetch a chainsaw’
me an illusion, cruel joke. So when the time comes we must Intertwining their bare barren Oh My Life,
I am left to grope around forever all bite our tongues branches
in confusion. Sweating and shaking on every With long, wispy, feathery fingers, Rattle, Rattle , ‘Never Fear, I’m a
They’re gifted psychics all it day, Softening the harsh, skeletal Carpenter’
seems, enlightened to the max, Perspiring profusely with every Bonfire night silhouettes, Stand Back! Went up the shout,
I short-sighted, quest in vain, in a change, memories Merging eerie earth and leaden sky Charge! All together Now! door
search to obtain the facts In every circumstance out of Into one, mystical, otherworldly swung open,
I simply cannot see cues of what control, By Kathleen Allen landscape. Six more joined me, yes we all got
they all are feeling Ever and always feeling deranged. out.
I blunder on unaware with all my When I was a little girl, Clammy tendrils envelop our
senses reeling We are the children of eternal fear, November came in with a whirl, befogged bodies, We braved the narrow winding
There’s so much noise coming in, Playthings in autism’s own selfish Bonfire night was an exciting As ghostly veiled spectres loom all roads,
no way to turn volume down, game, night, around To gaze on Saunton Sands,
Overwhelmed, I essay on, within Weighed down forever by worries So from October we collected our Floating in and out of the murky Crews were filming on the beach,
chaos I seem to drown. untold, fireworks to get it just right. gloom, In my mind, I had my plans.
I do my best to not offend, to stay Alone in our suffering, and solitary Our pennies we would save up Unearthly muffled sounds;
polite and true, shame. every day, Deadened, unnatural noises Surrounded by vehicles and equip-
But tact is hard when I can’t see To go to the corner shop just down Echo faintly through the hazy air, ment,
exactly what to do. the way, Firing the imagination, confusing With ‘Stop - Go we managed to
So please forgive my awkward- Irritating moments Sparklers, Jumping Jacks, Cathe- the bewildered brain get down,
ness, it’s just the way I am, rine Wheels too, Into believing unreality Mac and Three Wheeler aban-
I’ll never be gifted as they are, I’m By Thomas Hosker Would go in a shoe box to save for REAL!!! doned,
just this sort of man. Sitting alone in a waiting room the do!! For the sea I was headlong bound.
with just a ticking clock Rockets that would go right up in I could see the tide was coming in,
Meltdown Listening to a dripping tap that to the sky, Life is folding up Shoes and socks were caste aside,
By M. S. Harvey © 2019 wasn’t turned off The stars and the colours shining By Patricia Spencer ‘Hello Sea’ here I am’ how cool,
Stuck in a traffic jam as far as the
Did a little wobble and sighed.
bright and high,
My body is like a pressure filled eye can see Guy Fawkes on top of the fire, I feel that life is folding up behind
chamber, Standing in a long queue desperate The flames burning him getting me. After this all went well,
Seething with magma, and ready for a wee. higher and higher, Leaving empty spaces - blank Happy Days and lovely scenery,
to blow, pages. A Cream Tea at the best Cafe,
And only a minor increase in The constant banging of a door Sausages, fizzy pop, bonfire toffee For someone else to fill. By the Taw and shady greenery..
stresses, that’s been left ajar so sweet and delicious, Rooms that were warm with
Will cause me to lose all sense of Waiting for a bus instead of using These were our treats on the night, memories A Mayoral Procession passed on
control. the car To make everything right, Now are shuttered, cold and still. by,
Listening to someone who thinks My childhood was great, my mem-
An ingrained build up of powerful they know it all ories linger on to this day, The buildings in my life, full of And I raised my cup of tea,
Thank you Dear Devon for my
laughter, full of life for all,
forces, Hanging out the washing when the Let’s hope the next generation Dying under the hammer of the holiday,
Will need to release until I am rain starts to fall keep their memories this way. demolition ball. It was lovely to feel free.
spent. Having an itch on your back you
With no way to stem the mighty cannot reach Kings Cinema, Bath Street;
eruption, Trying to win the lottery week New Theatre, Lord Haddon Road; Our own special
That will take place in this chronic after week Premier Dance Hall, Market
meltdown. Always coming second after trying Street; song
Stanton Ironworks, Mailing De-
your best by Patricia Spencer
So I must endure this cascade of When the sun tans your body to partment and Wages Office;
madness, the shape of your vest Charnos factory and offices; The artist with his palette
Often, and over, and over again, Cavendish Girls School, Caven- The drummer with his drum
For I have been cursed by Asperg- A power cut that leaves you alone dish Road; We all have our own special pic-
er’s finger, in the dark Ilkeston College, Field Road; tures to paint
To always exist in this vale of Listening to the sound of a dog’s to name a few that were special to Our own special songs to be sung.
pain. endless bark me.