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www.ilkestonlife.com ILKESTON LIFE July 2021 8

Email your poems,
short stories, The Songster Hiding it away from the local cat next door As those long summer evenings draw to an
cartoons, etc., to After a period of time hungry chicks can be end
poems@ilkeston- by Thomas Hosker heard I’d still love to hear one last song from my
life.com Shouting for worms for their parents to fetch friend.
or send to Ilkeston and serve
Life, 1 Bath street, He’s one of our most loved garden songsters
Ilkeston, Derby- That lifts our spirits when we are feeling low With his golden yellow beak and his watchful
Whether it’s early morning or at eventide
YOUR Blackbirds often sing on a house gable end He begins to run the lawn from side to side
shire, DE7 8AH
eyes
It’s a sound that we all love and know
Disturbing the worms with the movement of
his feet
Or perch high in some large tree close by
Waiting to strike with his golden yellow beak
Serenading his birdsong to attract a female
SPACE friend After being fully fledged the chicks leave the
As the sun sets across a darkening summer
nest
sky
Leaving their parents to have a well earned
rest
Skilfully they build a nest of mud and straw
Thoughts about In the rainbow that follows, The work one does, is one’s But my songbird was made of
my cat Vibrantly casting its hues. reward, stronger stuff,
And started up again,
One’s true aim, and one’s goal.
Freedom is in the wind,
by Robert Anthony That transports our dreams It lifts one out of poverty, This time it was tweet, tweet,
tweet,
It feeds one’s fallen soul.
I wish I could have had a chat The howling of its voice, But poverty will always be, How dare he call me a pain.
The anger as it screams.
With Oliver my tabby cat Chasing close behind, Complaining may have discour-
Interesting stories he would have Freedom is in the snow, Value assessed by others’ greed, aged a Mate
told So pure and untouched Will keep one tame, and blind. For I heard no answering call,
About his life before he got old. And now in the footprints, Don’t give up my little songbird,
That turns it to slush.
He came to us as a stray Trees Your song is pleasing us all.
On a truly memorable day Freedom is in the beholder, Fiddlesticks and
Fearful, weak and weary, sad to by David O’Connell Freeing the shackles of the mind Flugelhorns
say 6th June 2021 Freedom is right before you, Precious Memories
He looked in a really bad way. If you seek, you will find. by M. S. Harvey © 2020
I have spoken to trees. By Mary Taylor
He’d been spotted often in Cot- I have listened. Space Invaders “Fiddlesticks and flugelhorns”, Precious memories, where do they
manhay They are wiser than us. Is something that you say, go,
Same time, same place, every day By far. by M. S Harvey © 2021 When faced with a vexatious task, Passed on to those you tell,
My lad, a postie with a sack They have learned So, just how many ten pence piec- And things don’t go your way. Shared experiences remembered,
Decided at last to bring him back. Deep lessons. es, did the Space Invaders eat, Instead of cursing, swearing or, I do hope that this is so.
Would he stay or would he go? Oaks, especially. In the arcades, public houses, and Turning the air quite blue. Special times and special places,
This is what we wanted to know Alders know a thing or two. many chip shops down the street? “Fiddlesticks and flugelhorns”, Happy days, laughter, voices,
We bought him some food in haste And pines, I reckon, also are The most successful, planned Are words to comfort you. In time growing fainter,
And he must have liked the taste. bless’d. invasion, that would overtake the Faded pictures, familiar faces.
A long way, actually, world,
Did he note the number on our They go, And so many would pay to fight In Sanity It’s my life in this reminiscence,
door Down, them, in the battles that occurred. Good times, bad times part of life
So he could come back for more? Their roots, by M. S. Harvey © 2021 Live it, to the best of my ability,
Yes, he returned, Forever. No-one took up the Queen’s shil- There’s a man believes he’s nor- Maybe somewhere I’ve made a
For more sustenance he yearned. They’re beautiful - ling, to be enlisted in this fight, mal on the psychiatric ward, difference.
Winter, summer,
This fishy food in a tin Naked, dressed. But so many would be defeated, as Which of itself is incredible, and
Convinced him to move in Wiser than us, they fought both day and night, frankly quite absurd,
Now he was here to stay Naturally, they are. Gained bonus points from flying Because there is no-one normal, Thank you for the
Loud purrs were his way to say: They’ve been a long time around. saucers, they shot down by laser truly everyone has quirks, sunshine
bore,
It’s just, some of us do better hid-
Thanks for letting me in A long time around. Every person engaged in warfare, ing them from scornful jerks.
No more will I be straggly and Follow their star. as they sought a higher score. by Tricia Spencer
thin. Thank you for the sunshine.
I’ll try to be a good cat Alien armies marching crablike, as Thank you for the rain.
I’ll help you with this and that. Freedom they sidled down the screen, A Tale of Two Thank you for this life I lead be-
Your house will be mouse-free by Steven Michael Pape With those rhythmic bass like Birds fore I go insane.
And flies will be caught by me © 2021 footsteps, where every step would Thank you for the blossom.
No other cats will come on our Freedom is in the mind, sound so mean, By Mary Taylor In bloom so pink and full.
yard In the way we perceive To each person that would hear I sat quietly in church, Thank you for the sunshine
No need to worry, I’ll keep guard. It’s also in the eyes, it, hypnotized by that rhythmic Windows opened as required, Sent from heaven above.
In the things that we see. theme,
I’ll sit close to you when you’re Called to fight on phosphor front- A bird very close started singing,
feeling unwell Freedom is found in nature, line, rasterized by electron beam. Its varied melody I admired. Thank you for my friendships.
When something’s not right, I can In the flowers and the trees It sang its little heart out, Thank blossom every day.
tell The influx of wildlife, Neo-Liberal It’s repertoire so rich, It would be nice if sometime soon
I’ll keep you company when The birds and the bees. What Mate could resist its song, We could all go out to play.
you’re on your own Freedom is roaming, Work Ethic So perfectly in pitch.
I know what it’s like to be alone. Over a carpet of green by M. S Harvey © 2019 And so he continued on,

For several years Oliver was our Studying what’s around us, Life is work, and work is life, His life story he told, Frightening
pet Like it’s never been seen. There is no time for play, When down came a big black byTricia Spencer
That was long ago and yet Freedom is in the sun, No time at all for having fun, Crow, I looked through the open door
Thoughts of him often come to That lights up our faces Nor to enjoy one’s day. “Craw, Craw, can I be so bold. There was a shadow of light
mind It’s around every corner, Every day must be a drudge, Surely your throat is getting sore, ‘A presentiment’
Another like Oliver we’ll never It lies in various places. Enslaved to Mammon’s call, You’re giving me a headache , Which was implanting itself across
find. Freedom is in the rain, To feed the Beast its sacrifice, Please desist this tweeting now, the peeling wallpaper.
The clouds that are bruised That gives no hope at all. For all I can do is Craw”. I had to go in – but I was afraid.