All poems by Les Dernie
Think of Me every time
A raindrop falls upon you,
Touching your hair
Like the damp welling tears in My eyes.
Caress My heart, caress My cheek
Make love with every word you speak.
Sing in My ear, bring Me joy,
Bring Me life, bring Me love.
Laugh with Me, cry with Me,
Sing with Me, fly with Me
Far away, love, to a place
No one knows.
Love Comes Back
Young hearts break and young hearts mend.
When a dream comes to an end
You think the world has ended too.
No hope of happiness for you,
Into despair your spirit sinks,
All is lost you really think.
The final swan song has been sung.
But strange things happen
When you are young.
Youth cannot live too long with pain.
It hears life's music once again -
An unexpected circumstance
Leads on to some new romance.
You turn a corner and it's there.
That old sweet magic in the air.
The future once so bleak and black
Is spanned with rainbows.
Love comes back.
The rumen table overflows,
Butter churns will fill,
Fluffy duckling preening down
No worry shows or even frown.
His casting bill
Traps plenty fly,
No weary blearing in the eye.
Lilies neither spin nor till,
Mallard reaps her harvest fill.
Blessed the bird. Man with joy
Schools his second generation boy.
Mercy and Truth
When spring awaits behind winter's door
Green mantles grow,
And moles build new castles in the winter corn,
Hills bow to morning sunlight.
Crows raid new ploughed earth,
Seagulls scream for more.
Fingers rake the sky
As pylons fizz and crackle in the rain,
Fish and chips swim on the street
As the big clock strikes eleven.
Grief lurks upon the black ice of the night.
The hawthorn lost her necklace to the thrush,
Sheep struggle with frozen turnips in the morning light.
Mercy and Truth have met together
Righteousness and peace have kissed.
Truth shall spring from the earth.
The Lord will give what is good
And the land will yield its increase.
Teach me Your way, O Lord.
I will walk in Your truth.
I will praise Your name and glorify You.
Much food is in the fallow ground of the poor
And for lack of justice, there is waste.
Only love is the answer to your prayers.
Only love will find somebody who cares.
If you only pray for money
And fly off to somewhere sunny
Only love will be the answer to your prayers.
On the path of life
With its troubles and strife
And you're searching for an answer.
You may find a need
For a terrible weed
But love is the only answer.
She's a bully and she's only three.
She says she doesn't love me when we've had our scones and tea,
She wants to suck four lollipops and drink a quart of pop.
She often throws a wobbler when I tell her that she'll not.
She's loved and kissed by everyone when she comes to play,
She relents - and so do I until another day.
Shire Stallion Supreme
A creature powerful is he
This equine lord of his family tree.
Black of mane and tail,
White his hairy feathered legs,
A blaze of white from eyes to muzzle,
Soft as thistle down.
Muscled neck arched in regal pose.
Dancing-shod hooves - clop, clop -
As o'er cobble stones he goes.
Bridled haltered, polished to a sheen,
A coat that shimmers in the sun,
Festooned with ribbon, tail tied in a bun,
His back, broad as any table top
Plus girth and breadth as good as any seen.
The sire of many hundred sons - daughters, too.
For man's delight, travelled near and far,
From early morn till night.
Treat him well, my man, for this we know thou wilt do.
He is a prize unto himself - and his master, too.
The wall adjacent to his stall
Arrayed with rosettes many, a priceless pearl.
This El Supremo of the heavy horse
More showing done.
More trophies won - and many.
Tomorrow never comes - the old man said.
He sat on the plough eating cheese and bread,
Washing it down with a bottle of Guinness -
He never drank tea or water.
He said 'Boy, always take thy coat
Any fool can take one if it's raining'.
He taught me how to snare rabbits,
To plough a straight furrow.
One tomorrow will be my last.
Will all my sins be gone?
Will truth be said about me?
Today is tomorrow's mother.
'Arl see thee tomorrow' he said.
But tomorrow never came for Old Tom Rushby.
He dropped dead today.
Gateford Toll Bar
No more the pounding hooves of sweating teams,
The whine of carriage wheels,
The clouds of dust - then a mickle and muckle of a dirt-made road.
A shilling at the drop bar for the carriage team,
Thruppence a bullock or a cow,
A pence or so for sheep as prices go.
A haípenny for a goose, shod with tar and sand.
The freeman filled his hat on market day,
I bet there were some who didnít pay.
Alas, the house has gone today,
Overtaken by the motorway.
Friendshipís fair face -
Each day she shines
If we shall seek her.
Smiles warm the morning air
If rain or storm prevail.
Ivory towers fall and break as mirrors glaze,
Words burn emotions,
Swift as sword strikes.
Nurture then the golden kiss of greetings down the years,
Priceless hours, minutes of her times.
Love and faith
Knit the wool of life
Into eternal shirts of steel
That ward off
The arrows of jealousy,
Strife and hate.
Spears of unbelief bounce off
The word, Lord, that You have given us.
Nostalgia creeps around the brain,
A smell of horse pee, sweat and leather,
Of days gone by, at crack of dawn.
Majestic, proud, five shires come
For raisins from my hand -
A tempter I.
Each day we con them to the collar
With the wizened fruit.
Not theirs to question, good or ill,
The purpose of each lone day's toil.
Perhaps to crop the sweeter grass.
Their better time was spent.
Hear the News
Hear the news, both good and bad.
Sometimes it nearly drives you mad.
MPs elected to do good
Think that we're thick as wood.
They wave and smile from big flash cars
(One or two from behind bars).
Shouting mostly lots of waffle,
Using it to try and baffle
All the nation to subjection
Until the time for re-election.