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www.ilkestonlife.com ILKESTON LIFE December 2021 8

Email your poems,
short stories, Christmas is Or will it all just cost me the All these trimmings are great to
cartoons, etc., to earth? see,
poems@ilkeston- coming! Christmas is coming! Christmas But insignificant, meaningless,
life.com is coming! obsolete,
or send to Ilkeston by Janet Reeve Rich food to make us all fat, By the side of the baby we greet.
Life, 1 Bath street, Turkey, plum pudding, mince
Ilkeston, Derby- Christmas is coming! Christmas pies to bake, Christmas is coming! Christmas
is coming!
is coming!
YOUR Tinsel and baubles to hang on its cake. Far greater than any material A friend very kindly forwarded
shire, DE7 8AH
Chocolate log and iced Christmas
Have you bought your tree yet?
Jesus Christ is the greatest gift,
branches,
thing
Christmas is coming! Christmas
a poem for Remembrance Day
Twinkling lights drawing admir-
With such joy, peace and love
is coming!
which was written by 14 year old
ing glances.
But what’s the real message it
to bring!
SPACE Christmas is coming! Christmas brings? Christmas is coming! at school to write a poem for
Joshua Dyer. Joshua was asked
That Jesus Christ was born for
Remembrance Day and one hour
is coming!
us,
later this is what he produced…
Lots of presents to choose and
Born in a stable without any fuss.
buy,
Wonder if I’ll get my money’s
is coming!
worth? Christmas is coming! Christmas One thousand
men are walking
My Badge of Creatures of the Becomes the orthodoxy of tomorrow When you’re balanced on a ladder, by Joshua Dyer, 2019
And the tank is in a lather,
The orthodoxy of the present
Honour Otherdark Transforms into the heresy of the As the people start to gather, Submitted by Terry Hall
future When you give the pipe a biff. One thousand men are walking,
by Sandy Warren by M. S. Harvey © 2020 Who’d be a plumber, Walking side by side,
Singing songs from home
in memory of my father In the months round the winter There are often opposing answers When the thaw is setting in, The spirit as their guide
to any conundrum
My badge of honour is not solstice, Sometimes neither are correct When the pipes are all a’blowing, They walk toward the light milord,
A tin star pinned on my chest When the daylight hours grow small, Uncertainty works for wise men And the water’s overflowing, they walk towards the sun.
It’s the gnarled twisted wounds We enter days of the Otherdark, Dogmatism flowers for fools and Has he come or is he going; They smoke and laugh and smile
And a bloody vest When the world around starts to tyrants Where should he begin? together,
My comrades dragged me back to pall. Who’d be a plumber, no foes to outrun.
base The sunlight grows weak and Beware of absolute certainties - When the summer’s coming ‘round, These men live on forever,
Though many thought me dead insipid, Including what you have just read When everyone’s on holiday, in the hearts of those they saved.
The scars are gradually fading As though it is spun out like thread. The answer is archaeology, A nation truly grateful,
But not within my head On a wheel that spins as the Earth Autumn A workman with a pick-axe, for the path of peace they paved.
We had no counsellors back then turns, And one ear to the ground. They march as friends and com-
All drawn out, pulled tautly, twisted.
We just got on with life by Thomas Hosker Fred would be that plumber, rades,
Nightmares still disturb our sleep But creatures thrive in the Otherd- As summer drifts into autumn dark For he’s first upon the scene, but they do not march for war.
And pains still cut like knife ark, grey skies appear So there’s work for him aplenty, Step closer to salvation,
Don’t say we will remember them And grow stronger at this time of Most plant life become dormant With the tradesmen and the gentry, a tranquil steady Corps.
year,
For we are all forgot They feed each, on human emotions, until the following year And they let him past the sentry, The meadows lit with golden beams,
A pension less than a living wage On anger, frustration and fear. Fallen fruit lie rotting across the By appointment to the Queen. a beacon for the brave.
Now that’s a soldiers lot orchard floor The emerald grass untrampled,
And if you show some remorse Devouring the lives of their victims, Where birds and many insects de- A reward for what they gave.
Bringing tiredness upon all their
Then bow your heads in sorrow prey, vour the rotting cores What a They dream of those they left
The battle that we all fought Forcing despair on their quarry, A pleasant aroma of woodsmoke behind,
Was for your tomorrow. Entrapping their game with dismay. now meanders through the trees Christmas and know they dream of them.
From someone’s garden fire, burning
Forever in those Poppy Fields,
Expert Clinical Creatures that dwell in the Otherd- wood and fallen leaves by Jennifer Cutts There walks one thousand men
ark,
Through the smoky haze leaves
I tried very hard to find a card,
Ignorance Seek each of their quarry to die, flutter gently to the ground To find a card it was hard, The Forest Man
They torment and lay low each
Like beautiful colourful butterflies
by M. S. Harvey © 2021 victim, decorating the autumn surround There’s none to find of the Jesus of India
kind,
Their conquest, alone, is their prize.
Medical professionals become so As each one is moved towards self- Silken threads of the spider drape With family and friends in mind,
very blinkered harm, from gatepost to a tree Cute bears, fluffy bunnies, penguins by Mary Taylor
When they are filled right up with all Seeks end to the torture they feel. Stretching across large areas that too, Did COP26 hear of him, I wonder,
the knowledge that they learn, Daemons that dwell in the Otherd- always amazes me All in abundance, even Winnie the Jadav Payeng living on a Island,
They’re held back by all the stric- ark, My feathered friend the robin ap- Pooh Where the Brahmaputra flows,
tures, of their cherished learning, Gain power with each life they steal. pears this time of year Seems something’s not right Where every year it flooded,
And are blinded by the narrow To feed from my trusted hand with- When the world’s lost sight From the Himalayan snows
thought processes they have. out showing any fear Of the Christmas of long ago
They discount anything which won’t Ups and Downs Around this time of year the daddy Things got worse with climate
change,
fit their meta-system, long legs are seen A celebration of Christ, is what And Jadav determined to save
Become blinded by their knowledge by John White Dancing across our windowsills and Christmas means Majuli, vowed he’d find a way,
and all that they have learned, Life is - TV screens Though many don’t know it, it To save his beloved Island,
So anything anomalous, will not A procession of small triumphs Children often try to catch them seems And he did without delay
pique their interest, Followed by major disasters with a tissue or cloth But amid the tinsel and Santa’s
And they’ll dumbly hammer square Love is - Then let out a scream when daddy’s reindeer He drilled deep into the land,
pegs, into the roundest hole. A montage of embarrassing mo- leg comes off The true message will always ring With the use of only a stick,
Hear my plea you experts of the ments As those dark dank days of autumn clear Trees rooted and bound the soil,
medical professions, Too often revisited in minute detail draw to an end The old, old story forever remains Just by pouring seeds into the holes
Do not become so blinkered by your Memory is - Life becomes much harder for our It’s truth rings out yet again A Forest was created by all of
past experience, What you may wish to forget feathered friends Calling out to all who will hear Jadav’s toil.
For you’ll never see that thing, that Sometimes destined to remember Nature usually finds a way for most Jesus, the Christ child, will draw He was praised for his valiant work,
stands outside your knowledge, Happiness is - creatures to survive near but Jadav, a humble man spoke
And you’ll condemn that patient to a What every one desires As they patiently wait for the spring- these words.......
diagnostic lie. Occasionally deserved time to arrive So let us remember the season’s ‘Mother nature lent me a hand, The
Gratefully received reason wind knows how to plant the seeds,
I care not Who’d be a And bring Jesus in out of the cold The birds know how to sow them.’
And with warm hearts remember
His work still continues and the area
by John White Uncertainties plumber? In this month of December is larger than Central Park. He start-
The greatest story that ever was told.
I care not what you name your gods by John White ed in the 70s and it’s now a 1,360
acre Forest.
Or whether they’re divine What has been, is unchangeable By Mary Taylor
The message is what matters - What will be, is unpredictable Who’d be a plumber,
As long as its benign! The heresy of today When the pipes are frozen stiff, • We were deluged with poems this month. Some have had to be held over.