Stand Together

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KTm1KM6ke88

70's Days

         
I keep on dwelling on the past
dreaming of a life that is no more

         
When TVs were black and white
Where Central Heating did not exist
We sat round a fire, toasting bread upon the open flame

Windows would rattle when cars went past,

Thin panes of glass, that couldn’t deter the frosty nights that led to 

the growth of stalagmites          

Black were the nights when the power was cut, candles flickered

We entertained ourselves with stories and song, warmed by    

blankets we sang along.

A Compendium of games was our Xbox. Blow football, Snakes and 

Ladders and Ludo games all played with the precious dice.

          

The mornings were cold and our coats were thick we would find joy 

poking ice with a stick.

Walking to school was the order of the day, dad took the car only   

one per family in those beautiful days.

School was small all Infants in one class, Juniors filled the other    

room and free milk came in glass.

Covered books, encyclopaedia and nature cards
Sums in pouches and ink wells on our desks, filled with pencil shavings               

.

Dinner time and semolina, hot pot with a crust and rice

pudding with skin all served from a tin.

Into the playground we would go, all chalked out for skittle ball.

Footballs were leather and coated not, they got heavy when it 

rained a lot.

The bell would ring and we stood in line then we marched into the
classroom where Beta books would fill our time.

At the end of the day we would journey home
and on the way we would stop to spend our penny in the

sweet shop. A bubbly and quiz, 4 blackjacks or Mccowans chews

On special days we may get 3p to buy a packet of Spangles or
Strikers or a Sherbet dib dab. 

                
Alas it was time for our Tea, chips cooked in the frying pan

with some added treat like a slice of spam.

If we were good before we went to bed a crust of bread covered in  

jam would make us sleep like new born lambs.

      
               

            

          

         

Larkhill Quotes

Change is not about continually going round in a circle but about changing a circle into a square.

Regret is a sign of Weakness.

More Balls More Luck.

Poem of the Week

Dawn to Dusk

Dawn breaks the ice
As it melts in the glass through which I see,
My vision is sprinkled with the rain that wets my spirit
A ghostly shadow of what darkens my inner view

Scared not from the creeping loneliness of being in the company of others
People cannot read the emotions of the heart, they are hidden
They are locked in a casket made of memories
It cannot be what was once a dream, it cannot be.

Reach out and touch, feel the sense of longing that is out of reach
Stretch limbs to grasp the answers, questions that lie so deep will be answered
Darkness and the cold shaking caused by fear will pass
And the journey to the destination will come soon enough.

Dusk is fading the light as time moves on
Goodbye to the rain, the sun, the sea, the sand
Count your blessing on your fingers
Nightfall brings back your dreams.
Tomorrow is another day.

James Larkhill 

Poem of the Week

THEY DO FORGET

Deep in the trenches covered in dirt,
Cold with fear, as the boom and blast light up the sky,

Bayonets in our shaking hands, over the top to our certain death
bodies strewn across the field of mud, poppies coated red from our blood 

For what ?, I ask,
To let the dealers conquer the dark,
To let society degrade our name,

As they do forget and don't understand,
The hand we played in their freedom.

Whatever divisions existed before two world wars
This is nothing compared to the divisions we have in our family today.

Does this selfish world need a war to clear it of its scars ?
Will love, charity and hope exist again ?
Or will the battles we fought be in vain
Forever a memory of those that were slain.       

James Larkhill.

Poem of the Week

The Value Of Life 

Man has decided he has a right,
to take life as he pleases.
Man played god with life and this seed was sown.
It grew into such hate with the value of life decreasing.
Though religion is an excuse given to slay the innocents,
Is man not the perpetrator of these acts as his inner self gave reason ?
Is it not the value placed on life that drives this suicide of hate ?
Is man not to blame ?
Is man not the one who de-valued life ?
Should he not be the one guilty of life treason ?

Poem of the Week

The Crossroad

Reasons to be trapped and not be free, start with dependents one, two and three. A roof over one’s head warmth at night, food in my belly, an electric light. A pension when I grow old, a hat on my head, a cosy sleep in my comfortable bed. When I own my bricks will I be free ?, or is it my age that will hinder me? Should I, upon this day declare my freedom? Should I leave my binding job, sell up and sail away, live a little while I can, be a selfish irresponsible man? Do I have the guts to make my mark, test the waters on a journey I should embark ? At this crossroads which way should I go over the hill and far away or round the corner like every other day.  I only I can make the decision and the question is am I a man with a vision, or a man of indecision?