by Sheila Weekes | Nov 18, 2008 | Poetry
How they constantly called to me The vision in my mind, from across the sea The rolling hillsides of my home Called me back, no more to roam So many different shades of green Of luscious grass and trees serene The early flowers of mild summer days Dawn mists burning...
by Sheila Weekes | Nov 18, 2008 | Poetry
We were going round the super store, as happy as could be Starting Christmas shopping early with so much to see The kids were being well behaved, which was a miracle in itself When it suddenly hit me hard and fast, I grabbed tight to a shelf Why? For God’s sake, why?...
by Sheila Weekes | Nov 16, 2008 | Poetry
When I was a youngster in junior school The other kids would tease me and I’d feel such a fool They would call me names, some I didn’t understand But I would fight back with a slap from my hand Every chance they had they would scream and shout Saying I didn’t have a...
by Sheila Weekes | Nov 16, 2008 | Poetry
Fred’s uniform rubbed rough against her cheek. A speck of grit from the train stung her eye. His arms held her tightly and he took a peek At the bombers flying over high in the sky. The station was crowded with so many men, Some with worried mum’s and dads by their...
by Sheila Weekes | Nov 14, 2008 | Poetry
I got out of the car and walked into the woods Sick at heart with my life in the mire When I found a pathway of fresh mown grass My curiosity was now set on fire It led to a church yard, through a small iron gate With twisted old yew trees so splendid Headstones were...
