Uncle David

The Vestiges of Happy Times A Memory Box A red can rolling on rugged roads, Two walkers heavy-laden Who chance upon a smiling child Too soon to be a maiden; The sounds of sirens rushing past And bright green, high-viz jackets, Some shocking- pink and scented silk Crushed scarves and chocolate packets; Those unwise monkeys, sage old owls, Rushed meetings on the playground, Blue Chinese teapots, card designs, Treasured totems tossed and found; Dark decorated scented pines, Proud tall denuded neighbours, Cold leaden skies, secreted stars, The shepherds from their labours; All empty streets and hungry hearts, Vestigial potpourri, Dissolving hands around mine eyes, Surprises that befall me; Now times ahead are failing fast, And those behind increasing, Deep dazzling suns and azure skies, Sad souls believing, kneeling; The blasts of sirens once again, Such dangerous journeys for thee, Smart cars and trains and boats and planes, Those empty seats before me; Tears and tantrums, sulks and sorrows, Silly sentiments of mine? Not spent feelings soon forgotten, But a vase of eglantine. No, not spent feelings soon forgotten, But lasting love forever thine. David James Beale For my sweet niece and her Grandmothers with thanks for their enduring love.

£20.00

Uncle David

For three special Mothers, Mama Mia, dear Joan and my sweet niece Nicola We Lived Together By The Sea : Crashing Dwelling by the sweet seashores, Aware of changing tides, Seeing waters ebb and flow Whilst white waves subside, Bathing in the sunlit years And blessed with splashing joys, Basking by the blue coastline: Gorgeous girls, brazen boys. Naively watching, waiting, Dread crashing waves arrive, Then claiming all their treasures, Stunned stones; alone we cry. Not stolen, only hidden, Abiding in our hearts, Perfect pebbles washed away, Inscribed with sanctus marks. With every beat, we see them: Through thoughts and dreams and prayers; Wild waters overwhelm us, Black breakers swelling cares. Behind the dark, 'kind shadows', All things unseen but known, Intangible perceptions Of fertile seeds pre-sown. The raging billows passing, White horses, peaceful shore: Bright eyes search the horizon, Brimming with hope once more. Again the waters parting, Cleared path for us to tread, The once-crushed roses blooming O'er rainbow where they led. David J. Beale

£20.00

Uncle David

For sweet Nicola and her companions brave. SACRED SEASONS Autumn leaves forsake, grand great oaks stand bare Feeling frail flowers In ‘dew time’ appear. Hidden during advent, fed by wintry sun Watered by teardrops, sheltered by our love. Darkling glass of winter soon gives way to spring Burgeoning bulbs, snowdrops, sun-washed saplings. Sacred seeds though dormant still remain the same Permanently present, they ALWAYS bloom again. There is NO forgetting, knots tethered tight! The three English roses, red, PINK and white. David J Beale

£20.00