Where do My Days Go To? By mauveone.

I wake up in the morning

Knowing what to do during the day.

I get up, dressed, set the washing machine going.

When breakfasted, I clean my teeth.

Check I look normal.

I check my emails, facebook,

Then reply to all the messages.

Then, I write my daily poem and

Download it to WordPress and Blogger.

Before I know it, it is lunchtime,

No housework done, nothing useful done.

We must have lunch, nothing exciting

Hiding in the fridge, sandwiches again?

I sit to drink a coffee, check emails,

Look at facebook, reply to messages.

By now, it is mid afternoon, I remember

I should have hung washing out on the line.

Then I spy, weeds in the garden, I begin

My daily battle with the weeds, which they win.

Weeds can grow quicker than I can remove them.

Oh! Its time I should be cooking an evening meal.

Then it is T.V., time, in my chair, feet up

What will we watch tonight?

Where did my day go to?

©  Marjorie Lacy, May 2019.


I Choose to Change, or Not? By mauveone.

The feeling that I am left on the shelf.

Sitting in my chair, day by day.

Reading, dozing my life away.

How do I get the energy back?

My brain is mushing, going blank.

Why am I not going walking?

Walking until my feet are hurting.

I could go out in the car,

Go a ride on a bus or train? Nah!

Why I am I not out gardening?

Why are my passions, leaving?

What about the Cinema? No.

I would rather watch T.V. So,

I will stay in my chair,

Where I can remember where I went,

what I did and with who, money spent.

© Marjorie Lacy May 2019.

How Pleased can I Be 10th May 2019 by mauveone

How pleased can I be?

Today we have been told


Simon Armitage has been

Announced as Poet Laureate.

How pleased can I be?


A Yorkshireman has been given

This huge honour…..

An honorary title,

No pay goes with it

BUT the great benefit of

Being famous for his POETRY.

I have not met him

BUT would like to,

He is impressive as a

Big, Bluff Yorkshireman

You can hear the Millstone Grit

In his voice, see it in his face.

How pleased can I be?

Today we have been told


Simon Armitage has been

Announced as Poet Laureate.

©  Marjorie Lacy.

Looking Forward to 1st May 2019 by mauveone. 30 of 30 poems.

1st of May is a time of celebration

It takes many forms, depending on

where you live. Some towns have

Parades with May Queens, some

have Morris Dancing, some villages

have their Maypole with children dancing.

Other towns and villages have street

Parades with Bands playing and

Traditional Plays. With street parties

people sharing fun, food and drink

with excitable children and dogs.

Simple community events.

Churches and other organisations

have open events to build community

cohesion, introducing persons to person.

Mix and mingle get together with singing

and dancing. Some influential person will

get up and speak.

Farming communities this is a time of fertility,

time for planting. The new birth of lambs and cows.

A time of hard work, often a profitable time

and hope for the future. A time to drink beer

While planning for the coming months.

A time for regeneration as the trees come into

leaf. A Young man’s fancy turns to love.

The birds are also busy with eggs and chicks.

Opportunist birds and animals looking for the food

of natural selection.

We are closer at this time of year to our pagan

past. More superstitious, more in touch with

the moon and stars, the air around us. The soil

beneath us. The water of rivers and Seas, all

Important factors to our human life.

The Difference between Mist and Fog by mauveone. Poem 27 of 30 April Poems.

I drove up to the hill out of my village,

the further up I got, the thicker the mist.

I turned left, and bumped into the fog!

The fields of Oil Seed Rape had looked

almost romantic in the mist!

Now, had disappeared, hidden by fog.

As I reached the top of the hill, no fog!

The green Farmers fields were there

his private airfield was still there.

Suddenly, I was in the misty rain, with

windscreen wipers flip, flopping.

It was more like autumn weather.

What is wrong with our weather?

“They” talk about Climate Change

all the time, are we really experiencing it?

Why can’t Spring be Spring?

It was when I was a child, we knew

Where we were with the weather then….

©  Marjorie Lacy.

My Hands by mauveone. 26 of 30 April Poems.

When I was young,

I was proud of my hands,

they were small and dainty.

As I got older I could

embellish them with bright

coloured nail varnish,

Later still, as part of my work,

I learnt manicure and also

taught it, my hands were

immaculate then.

Other people would envy

them, hiding their own bitten

nails behind their backs,

asking for help.

Now, in old age I have arthritic

hands that are no longer pretty.

A road map of blue veins dominate,

red lumps and bumps of knuckles.

It is difficult now to take proper care,

of my hands, cutting and shaping is hard.

I don’t cut my nails until I absolutely have to.

It is me that hides my hands in gloves.

Unwilling for people to see how ugly

my once small and dainty hands have

become. I am tired, I am weary,

I am old

©  Marjorie Lacy.

The Land Train at the Seaside by mauveone. Poem 26 of 30.

One of the delights of the seaside

is the Land train, a delight for

Mums, dads kids and dogs!

Grandma and Grandad too.

The trains are usually brightly coloured,

Driven by an elderly man, like everybody’s

grandad. Polite and helpful gives you

your ticket too.

Excited children board, deciding

where everyone will sit, can’t wait

for it to move so that they can wave.

The engine starts and Woops we’re off!

Everybody waves at trains, it is

part of the fun of being at the

Seaside. Well! We don’t have Land

Trains at home!

When we get to the end of the track,

Do we stay on or go straight back?

Do we get off and play on the beach?

Shall we get off and have ice cream?

The Land train takes us back again,

time to go and have our tea,

“Can we come again, Mum”

Can we dad, can we, can we, Please?

Have you heard a Hurdy Gurdy being played? By mauveone. 25 of 30 Poems.

I had never heard one until

during our day at Pontefract

Castle a couple of Medieval

Musicians were playing some

very different type of music.

Drawn by the strange notes

coming from the Hurdy Gurdy.

An odd-looking instrument,

with airbag and drone pipes

similar to Scottish bagpipe,

it has small wooden keys.

Also, strings that are vibrated by

turning a crank handle.

Intrigued we sat and listened, the man’s

wife was accompanying him on a whistle

while banging a deep sounding drum

and tapping on the bells hung on a stand.

tapping on the bells hung on a stand.  

A talented woman!

Their collective sound was magical.

When not playing, the man told us

about the Hurdy Gurdy, an ancient

instrument, his came from Germany.

the Hurdy Gurdy is known all over

Europe and North Africa.

In medieval England, it was known

as a Hurly Burly. Often played by

Blind beggars in places where

A lot of people could be found.

© Marjorie Lacy, April 2019.

St. George by mauveone. 23 of 30 April Poems.

We tend to think, that St. George is “ours”.

Our Patron Saint, his flag, a red cross on

a white background is so familiar to us all.

Our Knights of the Garter use this emblem.

Do we know that half of the world’s population

also, claim him to be their Patron Saint?

He is celebrated by Muslims, Christians and

Catholic religions. There are many stories of him.

It is known he was born in Cappadocia, which is

now in modern-day Turkey in AD270. He took part in the Crusades,

he died in AD303 in Israel and made a Martyr.

There are many comparisons between St. George which

links him to the life of Christ, both died at age 33.

Both fought for good against evil, both lost their lives

in the most dreadful ways imaginable. We commemorate

both their lives for the good they did and the way they

were examples of how we should live our lives.

NOTE: Countries who celebrate St. Georges Day include

Canada, Croatia, Portugal, Cyprus, Greece, Georgia, Serbia, Bulgaria, Rumania, Bosnia and Herzegovina, and

The Republic of Macedonia.

© Marjorie Lacy. April 2019.

Tractors on Parade 22 of 30 April Poems by mauveone.

I saw it on a friend’s Facebook

Post, that 500 tractors were

Passing through her Village,

It was too bad it wasn’t a day

I could go see them.

I felt disappointed.

The next day we were

Travelling to a St. Georges

Day event at Pontefract Castle.

Suddenly, there were tractors

Turning out of a junction,

Marshalls were controlling

Traffic, we were waved

Into the Parade.

I was thrilled, so many

Tractors, all sizes, all colours

Driven by men, women, teenagers.

It was so exciting, our little white

Car in among all farm vehicles..

People had come out to wave.

I waved back, but no one

Waved to our car.

It was not exciting.

Eventually, tired of their

Slow pace and stop-start,

We turned off the route

To go along the back roads

Towards Pontefract Castle

For a lovely family event.

© Marjorie Lacy.