Everyday Poetry

I've been reading old Roger McGough poems recently,  and came across his "Let me die a young man's death". It started me thinking about my own death,  and hopes for old age, which turned out to be wildly different from his!!!!  But thanks for the inspiration Roger.  Oh let me die a young woman's death Give me dignity and poise at my final breath, There's no rush mind, for the final page I want to die at a ripe old age. But not gasping and scared in the middle aisle of Lidl, Or reaching for the Tena in a pool of my own piddle, Nor gradually fading away,  in a comfy armchair, But still vigorous,  sharp, entirely "all there". Let me die in the throes of wild passion, Or dressed in the latest flattering fashion, While baking a cake or taking a hike, Or in the gym on the exercise bike. My ancient voice still strong and loud, No crumbling spine, but tall and proud, Still able to do a full forward bend Flexible and composed until the end. And let them say I

I really enjoy my Sunday morning swim. Swimming makes me feel so free - once you settle in, movements become almost automatic, and my chattering mind slows to the rhythm of the strokes.  That's when it goes well! This morning wasn't quite so restorative. On creaky knees I creep past the learners' pool, Descend the steps,  surrender to warm buoyancy, Begin the slow journey towards my target: Thirty lengths.  To help me count, they're broken down to various strokes: Four lengths breast,  one back,  four breast,  one front crawl. It helps,  but still I'm often left wondering if I've missed one And add another on.  Five lengths in,  my knees begin to unknot, Ten,  and the strokes come easy,  without thought.  It's tempting to forget the daily struggle  In the joy of movement.  At thirty,  euphoric and ahead of my self-alloted time, I turn, Decide to do another set of ten.  At thirty four, from nowhere My knee is gripped by a sudden breath-denying heat.  I curse;

We can often be quick to judge other people's behaviour,  but perhaps we should be more tolerant - if it was us being judged I'm sure we'd argue for the kinder description.   Affectionate or needy Good appetite or greedy High spirits or naughty Proud or just haughty Sexy or tarty Riot or great party Self conscious or aloof Pet theory or proof Tipsy or drunk Feeling down or in a funk Clever or smart Alec Lopsided or italic. It's a delicate balance Down to your state of mind Give the benefit of the doubt It doesn't hurt to be kind.  © Copyright 2021. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved  

We all know the feeling of being torn between the various roles and activities we need to adopt each day. My indecision about what I'll do today is reflected in this poem considering what sort of headgear I'll be 'wearing'.   My mother hat, well worn yesterday,  Lies cast aside but niggles at me constantly.  My housework hat calls out to me cheerily,  Lately it's got used to being worn,  and likes it.  My exercise hat is growing dusty in the cupboard It can stay there doing stretches until I get my mojo back.  My yoga hat sits patiently in the lotus position,  knowing Once a week is not as good as daily,  but better than not at all.  I search out my gardening hat, hidden in the shed far too long,  It needs to spend some time with me in the greenhouse today.  My well worn poetry hat,  glows warmly on my head; Soon it will be taken off,  and kept close in my pocket.  © Copyright 2021. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved  

I am a member of the WWT,  and like to visit Slimbridge as often as I can,  sometimes with my grandkids who love wellyboot land and the wigwams,  and sometimes with my husband when we walk and sit in the hides.  A couple of weeks ago I noted down a few notes about the sights and sounds we experienced as we sat quiet and still in one of the hides.  Dried reeds rustle, part,   Revealing sepia river ripple. Brash goose-clamour competes against The dual tone hoot of a distant train.  Curling curlew cries rise spiralling, Mingling with the willows Weaving patterns in the sky.  © Copyright 2021. Chris Auger. All Rights Reserved