Poems by Laura Sanders

A mother is someone who cares,
Someone who will readily share.
Who tries to bandage up cut knees,
Who likes to give and to please.

A mother is someone who smiles a lot.
A mother is someone who gives all she's got.
She loves to make others smile,
Tries to go that extra mile...

A mother like this is a rare gemstone.
With a mother like this, you'll never feel alone,
For a mother can be your best friend,
Caring, sharing, pleasing to the very end.

Forever young, is where I wish to be,
No chair or door held open especially for me.
No Zimmer, walking stick ,to aid my walk,
No nervous laughs, holding my hand, or baby talk.

I don't want dinners boiled to mush
and eat with a spoon and feel I am pushed.
Hands forced open, washed with foam,
threats over my head ,of an old people's home.

Forever Young, is where I want to be
playing skittles, walks, swimming dancing's for me.
Not aches and pains and stiff old joints
just playing tennis and scoring points.

But guess I'll have to age like all the rest
Even though I've taken vitamins and like a teenager dress.
Noodles of cream for wrinkles, hair thickeners -I'm bald.
Know I can't beat time and I'll just have to grow old!

Spring seems to burst forth with avid jubilation,
Animals and birds emerge from their Winter hibernation.
The Blackbird sings its sweet melody,
and the Bumble bee hums around- happy to be free!

Honey bees buzz, from flower to flower,
as the days grow longer, hour by hour.
But glorious,  is the Spring time sun,
enabling us, to have more outdoors fun!

Spring- time  flowers colour the land-
Yellow Celandines, Buttercups, Daffodils grand.
Clear weather ahead, no ice or mist,
Winter has retreated, no longer missed...

Clutches of speckled eggs spotted, in nests,
and Easter is the celebration, Christians like best.
Spring heralds in , the new born lambs
and baby creatures frollick and try hard  to stand.

Blossom adorns  trees and shrubs reveal their hues,
Spring's  entrance, is to  Summer, where the heat will burn through!

September enters- Autumn's hazy days...
Warm golden sun, shadows dance and play.
Seeds are released, Finches feed their way,
Blackberries plump, ripened, have come to stay...

Yellowing, swaying, ears of wheat,
on a polished table top, a fruit basket treat.
Arrival, of the late harvest heat.
Swallows begin, to safely retreat.

Signs of early Autumn here,
Leaves drop and fall, like tumbling tears.
Browning plants, hedges cleared,
prelude, to Winter's icy cheer.

Rosy red apples, ready to be picked.
Crane flies in and outside, flit.
Green Dragonflies the sky, have lit,
trees turn to colour russet.

A young child asked her mother, "mother, what does the face of God look like?
I know I may never see him, is he fierce or is he kind?"
The mother said, "God dear, is like the coloured rainbow smiling in the sky,
He is the formation of snow white swans, flying gently by...
He is like the stars in heaven, his love infinite and bright,
always like the sun in the morning, calms us after a rainy night.
His voice  is like the tallest trees, whispering in the  cooling breeze.
He is like the Spring time thaw, after the cold icy Winter freeze.
He is like the flowers in the border, in the summertime.
He is like the  rivers dancing, alive with fish, leaping in  line...
He is like the summer meadows, lush and fresh and green.
God is everywhere darling, but his face is never seen...
'cause God is the best of EVERYTHING, here on earth
and he came to save us all, by his miraculous birth!"

Mum, thank you for all the little things you did,
down on earth, for us all.
The things, we never saw.
The things mum's really are for...
Hugging and talking to us,
looking after us, when we cussed,
showing us the side, that cares.

When life was too much to bear,
Mum, we couldn't see everything
you went through,
but we really do appreciate you.
Life wouldn't have been the same too,
without you.
So thank you, for all you did,
for us all.
Giving us advice,
making us Pilchard curry and rice!
Going to church with us both,
helping us to cope.
Sticking up for us, in our hours of need,
lots of things indeed...

A young fit man, when he went off to war,
but as soon as I saw him, close that door,
I knew he would never be the same,
'cause war it ruins, wounds and maims.

When I saw him again, his hands trembled, shook.
His face looked haunted, with anguished look.
Now and then, he cried out, in mental pain,
I knew he'd come back, never being the same.

In the depths of the night, he cried out a name,
woke up sweating, said it's happening again!
A cigarette, would calm his broken thoughts,
alone he sat, feeling out of sorts.

I knew that he had P.T.S.D,
so I took him for a stay, in the Welsh country.
To a place where birds sang and fresh rivers flow,
a place of solitude, only peace would know.

In the woods, he sat with other friends,
chatted, slept in tents, til the evenings end.
They learnt bush craft, and how to survive,
making campfires and fishing to stay alive...

Slowly he got better with his fragmented health,
began to improve, 'til he had mental wealth.
Now, he is an instructor, teaching others bushcraft
and I'm glad I took him, to find that longed for, life raft.

All I wanted was to be loved by you,
but instead you told me, you and I were through...
How I longed for that tender, special kiss,
It's like being without sun, your warmth I miss.

Like a flower longs for a rainfall shower,
how I needed you, every day, every hour.
Like a bird on the wing, without a nest.
I miss you so much, 'cause you were the best!

I'm a desert, of loneliness, with windswept sand.
I thought you knew me, would understand?
But now it seems, you overlooked, my heart,
when you said goodbye and you did depart.

Now I yearn for life like a forest deer,
'cause being alone is what I fear.
But all I wanted, was to be loved by you,
Now I'm  , tired , disillusioned  and blue.

Pure and white, spotless and clean,
drops of snow amongst the verdant green.
Delicate heads hang sorrowful, as if to say,
sorry- we've appeared, on a cold February day!

Inside the tiny flower, is a green surprise,
patterned so beautiful, it brings joy to the eyes.
Simplistic delight, that nothing could match.
On a cold Spring day, I discovered a small patch.

Fairy flowers and the first to bloom,
but then they are gone, seeming to fade too soon!

The end of the world has come,
it is hopeless to hold just a gun!
Do not want your sadness and pity,
when the Russians shell our lovely city!
Just make a no fly-zone,
"Seal the skies", give us airplanes and drones,
Tanks and missiles, here are the norm,
Putin will pay for this storm!

I watched  as our cities crumbled,
saw the menacing tanks, as they rumbled.
Oh Lord, I can't see how we can win now,
with our few weapons, anyhow?
How can we get out of this mess?
Each man is being put to the test....
We are outnumbered, ten to one,
The end of the world has begun....
So I stand here alone quietly pray,
praying for help to come  our way.

My son will be fatherless , I feel bad,
He will grow up and feel terribly sad.
He will always remember this hideous  attack,
how Russia turned on us,  how we tried to fight back.
Dad was a hero , in the Ukraine-Russia war,
but a tear will come, when he thinks what was it for?
It is a David and Goliath affair, make no bones.
Will we win though, with just a few stones...?