jabberwalk Poetry (2)

SPIRITS ON THE WIND


I wake to a morning full of the air of yesterday,
Not content in the job I have to do
Reclaiming the temporary habitats of man
Participating in the chit chat
Conforming in a world of fate and destiny
one works and works and dreams and dreams
And in doing so ends up at that fateful day
when death takes it all away
Nothing left for posterity but warmless bones
And an inscription that reads "Here lies ..."
Erected by those he left behind on a piece of rock, insignificant
On a planet made of that durable stone
And if left alone it's message reads into eternity
With a ghost chasing spirits on the wind.

Author John O'B

Rita Makes a Great Cup Of Tea

I knocked on Rita's door and the time she took to open it made me turn and leave.
Two steps out I heard a shout, "Is that you, are you coming in?".
I turned and said "I'm here to ….." and she cut me off like sharp wit on a good day
With the words "I thought you'd never get here what kept you boy? come in now that you’re here".
I rounded the door and moved through the hall.
She was slow on her feet but could talk for 'em all.
She talked me into the kitchen which I shouldn't have allowed
but she was forbearing and wonderful and ever so slightly proud.
" 'Tis out the back you'll find it but first you'll have a cup of tea to warm the day".
And before I could say boo, I was talked to the table and sat for the tea.
I couldn't resist fruitcake and a cuppa for I was partial to both and the day had a chill.
all the excuses came at once, but when I tasted the tea it tasted funny to me
but funny in a good way and unknown to me I do believe it was with whiskey that she spiked my tea.
I didn't complain for I was partial to a drop myself and after all it's the spirit of life.
She proceeded to tell me her life's story while feeding the cat and saying occasionally
"Do you know what I mean lad?"
She was a gem and all around her were bits of her life, from pictures to postcards,
to a sink full of pots in need of indulging .
Then she asked "Will it take you long for I'm going for a nap.
The days are too long and the nights are too short lad, I need my little bit in between.
Now come and I'll show you the heater". "What heater?" I asked.
"You’re here to fix the heater aren't you?" "No I'm here to read the meter".
But she didn't seem put out when I told her the bad news and led the way to the meter box.
But I had drank a good few cups of tea and at this stage I think the meter was reading me.
There's worse things that could happen but Rita makes a great cup of tea.

Author John O'B