Poems by Laura Sanders

Rows of creeping, tangled, knotted runner -bean Vines
twist and turn, growing up netting and poles in lines...
Tiny, red flowers attract bees and insects to visit and pollinate.
"Come enter and taste before it's too late !"
Elsewhere, lush lettuces appeal to any Beatrix Potter character, utter temptation !
Delicious carrots, with fine leafy tops protrude, without hesitation .
Swathes of potato flowers plants, surge over the veg plot -
where compost manure and organic soil lies, in humus and then rots.
Neat lines, measured out by string and rusty iron poles-
Growing tasty fresh veg, the ultimate goal!!
Fruits, picked by hand from plant. to box to crate .
Satisfaction and reward , for" growing your own " is great!

A young child asked her mother, "mother, what does the face of God look like?
I know I may never see him, is he fierce or is he kind?"
The mother said, "God dear, is like the coloured rainbow smiling in the sky,
He is the formation of snow white swans, flying gently by...
He is like the stars in heaven, his love infinite and bright,
always like the sun in the morning, calms us after a rainy night.
His voice  is like the tallest trees, whispering in the  cooling breeze.
He is like the Spring time thaw, after the cold icy Winter freeze.
He is like the flowers in the border, in the summertime.
He is like the  rivers dancing, alive with fish, leaping in  line...
He is like the summer meadows, lush and fresh and green.
God is everywhere darling, but his face is never seen...
'cause God is the best of EVERYTHING, here on earth
and he came to save us all, by his miraculous birth!"

Forever young, is where I wish to be,
No chair or door held open especially for me.
No Zimmer, walking stick ,to aid my walk,
No nervous laughs, holding my hand, or baby talk.

I don't want dinners boiled to mush
and eat with a spoon and feel I am pushed.
Hands forced open, washed with foam,
threats over my head ,of an old people's home.

Forever Young, is where I want to be
playing skittles, walks, swimming dancing's for me.
Not aches and pains and stiff old joints
just playing tennis and scoring points.

But guess I'll have to age like all the rest
Even though I've taken vitamins and like a teenager dress.
Noodles of cream for wrinkles, hair thickeners -I'm bald.
Know I can't beat time and I'll just have to grow old!

The Halloween dance.

I once woke up in the middle of the night,
as Midnight struck, late, late at night.
I came downstairs feelin' kinda sick,
I saw creatures dancin' to Halloween music!

At the dance, at the dance, at the dance, at the dance...


There was a witch doin' a broomstick dance
and ghosts of local graveyards, prancing in a trance.
There was an ugly werewolf, howling on all fours,
and Dracula with his cape, tangoed to the scores!

At the dance, at the dance, at the dance, at the dance!

A she -monster she did a gay Foxtrot,
while Frankenstein gave it all he'd got.
Bat people were doing a paso doble,
whilst a black cat, with green eyes, glowered my way,

At the dance, at the dance, at the dance, at the dance!

Pumpkins were doing a strange kind of waltz.
I had to scream, call it to a halt.
They were jumpin' and  a  jivin',  with twists and turns,
completely unaware, whilst the candle- light burns......

At the dance, at the dance, at the dance, at the dance!

The spooks and creatures didn't fade away,
when I drew back the curtains and let in the day.
So I knew, I  just could  not win,
so I danced with a were -wolf and I joined in!!

At the dance, at the dance, at the dance, at the dance!!

A single red Poppy is all I wear to commemorate the dead.
A single red Poppy is all I wear, it's clothed in scarlet red.
Curled up at both ends, torn by Remembrance day,
but without it how would I show, I cared about the sacrifice, they made.

Swathes of Poppies today, are found in Flander's lands,
where bodies once bled in the mud - it's hard to understand!
Why men must brutally fight one another, in order to win a war?
Countless lives lost to a cause, just to settle a score.

But just what were those men really  fighting for?
For freedom and peace to reign, across our lands once more.
So that simple, red Poppy is important, for us to wear.
We can all show our support for soldiers today- show we all do care!

Pure and white, spotless and clean,
drops of snow amongst the verdant green.
Delicate heads hang sorrowful, as if to say,
sorry- we've appeared, on a cold February day!

Inside the tiny flower, is a green surprise,
patterned so beautiful, it brings joy to the eyes.
Simplistic delight, that nothing could match.
On a cold Spring day, I discovered a small patch.

Fairy flowers and the first to bloom,
but then they are gone, seeming to fade too soon!

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!!