Poems by Laura Sanders

Gran- what is it like to be so old?
This, may I ask and to be so bold!
Do you ache and pain like me,
or do you still feel lively, energetic, free...?

Do people really respect your views?
Or do they secretly laugh at you?
Or do they marvel at your age?
Or is it like turning the same old page?

Do you long to be young again?
To relive your  time, in life's short game?
Would you do things differently
and someone else, you would rather be?

Gran, smile, put on your happy grin,
even if it is difficult within.
You'll fool them all with all those years,
you will reduce them all, to smiling tears!

A benchmark, you have now surpassed,
You're best years, have now since passed.
You've now lived through, your hope and fears,
You've reached your golden years!

Why is a garden snail so slow?
Has he no place to go?
With his house upon his back-
he doesn't even need, to pack!

If it gets too hot, he just sleeps,
inside his shell he retreats.
He feels safe inside,
where he isn't heated and dried!

If it rains, he soundly sleeps,
until he's ready to peep.
He comes out, he loves the damp,
sliding along, up and down ramps.

Leaving his glittery, silvery trail,
how happy are wet slimy snails!
Then he sticks to an old, hard rock,
do not disturb him and do not knock!

'Cause snail has found his safe abode,
with his shell home, which is his load.
Snail is slow, cause he needs to find,
his perfect pitch, for peace of mind!

Seems like only the other day, you paddled , in that hol' seaside rock pool.
Only the other day, you fed us lunch, when we were kids at school.
You packed our hol' suitcases into the car boot, so they snugly fit.
At Christmas you danced with vigour, to some Abba disco hits!

Parties, weddings, get-togethers, meals seems we did it all.
Relatives and friends came to us for company, you really had a ball.
But time moves so slowly, then faster, now you've reached the end.
You're left wondering where everyone is, Where are all your friends?

The egg-timer is running out, but the sand is still flowing through...
Reaching your final furlong, what else is there for you to do?
Long Summer times have passed, you've watched seasons come and go.
Now only sadness seen in your eyes, realising it may soon end you know.

How quickly a lifetime passes, it seems like ages when we are young.
Thinking we have all the time in the world, before our time is done.
But we must grasp the nettle, cause life can end any time.
Just enjoy our visit, either short or long, make it meaningful and fine!

Magical March comes limping in, bringing the mad wind and the rain,
but eventually the sunlight brightens the day, and we're all happy again!
Slowly the flowers spring to life, dancing Daffodils, sunny Celandines.
Its a taster of what is heading our way, beautiful Summer time!

The fairies flutter again, in the forest glades, as does the woodland Leprechauns,
the rabbits, gaily hop around, deer and foxes smile to see sunshiney morns!
Spring's bounty is on it's way, when buds open and lambs are not so forlorn.
Nothing is so drear and dark again, the magic of Spring is born!!

Autumn leaves dance gaily around,
they swirl in a haze towards the ground.
Auburns, golds, russets, too,
offering different shapes, differing hues.

The wind picks up and blows the trees.
The foliage is carried from the canopies.
Fine English Oak and Beeches shed all to the land.
Maples and Sycamores add to the dance.

Falling, falling with the season's formation,
picking up speed, they collect for soil fermentation.
Witnessing the act brings happiness, delight,
but it can also be a sobering, somber sight.
Winter will at last be on its way.
The cold, icy blast will freeze leaves well away...

After the snowfall.

The snow flakes fall like soft, downy feathers from the sky.
Soon it drifts and piles up, as I look outside.
The landscape transformed, looks clean and bright,
hills and lanes, seem fresh and white.
The virgin snow, beckons me to come outside and play.
Already visitors have been, as I make my way.
Bird prints, a cat's paw marks, dog tracks, galore-
have impacted the snow, more and more...
Seems I am not alone, in this winter landscape,
where crystals, has fallen, from an ice maiden's cape.
Soft caterpillars of white snow, cover objects in the garden.
Elsewhere, water has frozen, and like tough glass, has hardened.
As I crunch about ,in my snow boots, hat and warm scarf,
I feel once more enlivened, as I make a foot print path...

Like a golden fanfare of trumpets, they herald entrance of Spring.
Appearing on warmer days, when happier the  birds fly and sing....
As yellow as the gold sun, that shines, they sway in the breeze,
Daisies, Buttercups cannot compete, attracting passing bumble bees.
On banks along garden edges, brightening up landscape stark,
sunshine flora laps up the sun, hating the wet and dark.
Elegant long stalks, looks attractive in a vase.
Seen in houses, gardens and out of windows of our cars.
To see Spring flowers and beauty, I needn't venture, too far.

Mum was so very special she drew people to her, wherever she went.
Even though she was tired and weary and her energy was well spent.
She always made an effort to chat and make everyone laugh,
She liked to talk about flowers and plants, along the garden path.
She left a hole inside me when she went to the "other side",
I knew it would never be the same , the day she said goodbye.
Peace and quiet transcended the house,  her voice no longer heard...
Everything had to carry on, even feeding her garden birds.
No getting up in the morning and giving her some toast,
getting her ready to go out,  putting on her knitted hat and winter coat.
Everything routine stopped,  mum sitting by the window -now gone.
Along with the love, the laughter , the fireworks ,the worry , and the fun.