Poems and short stories by members

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Thanks, Rosemary, I'm hoping other's will join in too. I don't find poetry difficult I write on any subject anytime anywhere. Oh, I know...I won't be entering those for the comp....They aren't my best stuff lol xx
When I was young I lived on an Island. I thought everyone else in the World also lived on Islands with sea all around them. Everywhere I went there was a different landscape, gorgeous beaches, lots of cliff walks and steep gradient hills. I spent much of my time in the sea or around it. The islanders spoke English and French Patois in parts of the Island. Half the place names were in French and the other half in English.

There was strange Laws over there. For example, if you were unhappy and really unhappy especially if a neighbour intended to build something, a 'Clameur de Haro' could be issued verbally in front of the neighbours home if they were offending another. It isn't taken lightly to issue a Clameur as should it go to Court and you lost your case you would then have to pay a fine for issuing it. Certain streets had Laws passed that forbade you to make a noise or walk up it the wrong way. There were traditions expected and breaking them would be enough to be shunned in a neighbourhood until you apologised at least.

If you were a local you were expected to greet others in passing in the street and on the buses. You couldn't get on a bus and just sit down ignoring anyone else or you would be considered very rude and scorned upon. It was a place you couldn't just do what you liked without someone knowing your business and it would be spread if you did something really wrong. Everyone knew everybody else. It was a kind of safety in numbers yet at the same time everybody knew exactly who was doing what.

I enjoyed my childhood there but it wasn't always as safe as some may think as money talks when someone with money does something wrong. Many had a lot of money but there was some who were much poorer. It was a massive division between the both. Life was much harder for those who were poor as the system in place was capped to very low-level many decades before it was here. Much more ruthless and unfair. I often wonder whether that system played a part in the 'changes' we've had in the last few years in this Country. Whether they 'looked' at that little Island and thought 'Yes' that's what we'll do too.

Maybe I'm just wondering.....

Later folks:)


The poem is for my son James about his favourite weather the wind. It's a simple poem that he can understand. He has Autism.

It is windy.

It is very windy
My ridge tiles have blown off
and my chimney
The wind is alive
Stopping the postman
Coming up the drive
It is very windy.
Who cares for that carer?

by Megan Jenkins

"Who cares for that carer?" I hear a man say,
"Her day blends with night, and then night becomes day.
The cooking, the cleaning, the hospital trips,
The changing, the bathing, wiping food from his lips.
The meltdowns, the tears - so hard to endure,
What keeps her from walking out that door?'

I'll tell you what stops me from leaving each day,
And what gets me through when I don't want to stay.
It begins with an 'l' and ends with an 'e',
It's a power, a force, emanating from me.
Am empathic heart, a gift from above,
I do this my friend, in the name of LOVE.

This years competition also has a photography category.

Full details can be found on this link
https://www.carersuk.org/how-you-can-he ... ition-2017

The deadline for entries is 31 July

x x
One site, Three (Bots)

There is not a dry eye in the house
where a silent creek can not be heard
Presently from the robotic creatures,
trawling the net.

The purpose is unknown to be sure,
Maybe learning insight into a carers lot,
Spotlight trawled with a holey net,
Making up numbers on the forum at night.
Undervaluing the caregiver.

Holding her hostage in her home by unpaid care,
None Compliance is the alliance of Social Care,
Where workers sit with supervisory software,
In groups where 'system' is threadbare of realistic attire.

Managers become compulsive liars and
don't clear up the lie behind themselves,
Then they dwell on those who dispense the light
onto the lies in question told.

All the while the unpaid caregiver works hard
throughout the night,
Cleaning bottoms, cleaning shite,
Disrespected treated like a slave belonging to 'the system'
that in turn has no right to be impolite or ignorant.

The one with autism is used to by 'The System',
To wage the underservant workers of Social Care,
Those who 'work' forever waging 'warfare' by cutting help or
daycare for those in a wheelchair and to those needing

Forcing the unpaid to pick up the pieces....
All I'm saying is anyone reading this ...don't be drinking coffee lol
A story short…Villageous Thistlehead

https://50shadesofcaregiver.wordpress.c ... k-groupie/