Winterdene (an old people's home)

                             
       ( E-mail from a friend. )  Forgot to tell you Jim, got a new car, very posh..... Peugeot  406.

                                                                 WINTERDENE.

                                                   I'm an old man in a posh car.
                                                   Pickled herring in a glass jar
                                                   And, all roads lead to Winterdene.

                                                   Now, here alone in evening shade,
                                                   the inside watching the outside fade.
                                                   The past gone, the future obscene.

                                                   I've had my chance now here's the night.
                                                   Why can't we just, switch off the light.
                                                   Or drive away to some where afar?

                                                   Like an old man in a posh car............
          

                                                               My Reply.
                                                   
                                                  Portside Out Starboard Side Home.
                                                  That's the way a man should roam.
                                                  An organ, and a monkey is all we really
                                                  need. Music and a quiet friend, the golden
                                                  life for for us to lead.

                                                  But, a posh car would do for me,
                                                  a myriad of eyes just to watch and see.
                                                  A green E type or a frog eyed sprite,
                                                  to drive around in my own spot light......
   

Every man desires to live long; but no man would be old.

Life is lived forwards but understood backwards. So I think instead of being born and moving towards death we should start at death and move backwards to birth.
We would come to life in an old people's home and stay there until we are thrown out for being too young. Then we would potter aimlessly around Town and slowly regain an interest in a hobby we are very good at only to find little-by-little we get moderately worse. Until you are given a gold watch and start work at job you know everything about. Over the next 50 years you will see your children grow younger, drive brand new cars into car showrooms and come out with an old wreck of a car which will get gradually better until it is perfect again, at which time you will go to the garage for another old car.
The holidays you love in the quiet sleepy Italian villages will slowly lose their appeal and you'll start to enjoy the noisy raucous holidays of the Greek Island.
Your wife who is a great comfort to you will start to become more and more desirable over the years,
until you are madly in love with her and marry her. Over the next 2 years you will make plans of all the things you've already done, then meet her for the first time and then,------ never think of her again.
You will be at college and learn how to do the job you have done for the last 45 years.
Then leave school not knowing what you want to do.  Over the next 15 years you will do a lot of playing, you'll be climbing trees play football and chasing butterflies. You'll end up sitting on your Mom's lap smiling at your older brothers and sisters. Soon you'll be a baby again and go back into the womb. Once there you float about in warm comfort for 9 months and finally come to an end in a orgasm.--------- So ends the jig of life.

In a Hospital Bed

                                                   She 'ad 'er skirt up over 'er 'ed
                                                   that's what Fat Elener said.
                                                   And now she's old and alone,
                                                   in a hospital that serves as 'er 'ome.

                                                   But she was once young
                                                   and with dreams,
                                                   And she once had fun?
                                                   so it seems.
                                                 
                                                   With young men she drank
                                                    in the bars.
                                                    And did things in the backs
                                                    of their cars.
                                                    So Fat Elener said!
                                                    With 'er skirt up over 'er 'ed.
                                                 
                                                 

juvenis ad senex senis

                              I've stopped believing in heaven, and I'm not afraid of hell,
                              and I'm crawling into old age as you can probably tell.
                              And musing of my youth spent in Manor Park, lying among
                              long grass and listening for the lark.
                              The cry of birds spiralling hight into the sky as years and
                              memories like clouds go flying by, and the light from long ago
                              was soft and filtered gold, now it seems a different  light it's
                              stark bright and cold. It shows the faults with hard contrast
                              there for all to see, and what was soft and filtered gold I no longer see.
                              Desire was the one thing that fuelled the way I lived, but now
                              it seems companionship is all I have to give.
                              Time is not a member of this club that I'm in now, in my heart
                               I'm still young but with frost upon my brow.

                             
                               


                           

I've never been to Carolina

                     

                              Another day to live through a day for me to waste,
                              time for me to dream and think of a better place.
                              I'll go to were I'm wanted, drift back to were I can,
                              to live a life to die for and be a better man.

                              In my mind I go to Week St Mary just to feel the sunshine
                              and to watch the moonrise to see the stars like diamonds
                              scattered in the sky, I go to Week St Mary in my mind.

                              I walk along the beach again with a lover by my side,
                              lie down among the sand dunes to watch a mackerel sky.
                              And leaving trails of foot prints along the waters edge,
                              like dreams they're quietly washed away with the wreckage
                              of the day.

                              From where I am now standing I can see the distanced past,
                              family, friends, and loved ones are fewer now alas,
                              and now I know my best times have all but been and gone,
                              but still I have a memory of their love that lingers on.

                              So in my mind I go to Week St Mary, just to feel the sunshine
                              and to watch the moonrise and see the stars like diamonds
                              scattered thought out the sky, I go to Week St Mary in my mind.

You in your small corner, me in mine

                                                                Things not Said.
                             
                              I dream about you now Dad when I lie abed at night,you look
                              to me as you always did not broken by that long hard fight.
                              I dream about you now Dad standing in the dark of night, alone in
                              thoughts we never did share of dreams and hopes, of love and despair.
                              Will my son dream when I'm gone and awake one morning to think,
                              we never did talk of what matters to us, afraid of regrets and hurt feelings:
                              I think________.
                              Will he see me alone in the dark and wonder along with this theme.
                              Will he grieve for a Dad long gone and only alive in a dream?
                           

Come, let us roam the night together singing

                Coming home early in the morning, or is it late from the night the before?
                There's someone watching, watching, watching, there's someone watching
                from the upper floor.
                O where have you been my loverly  in your bright red shoes, have you been
                out dancing, dancing, dancing, have you been out dancing, to the rhythm and blues.
                The night is for enjoyment the morning for regrets,  sleepy eyes and a head thats sore

                and things you'll soon forget. 
                But, is there someone watching, watching, watching, theres someone watching from
                the upper floor.