Half Day's Holiday

Body shaking,
Back is aching
From my skin is leaking sweat.
And I know
As poems go
This isn't quite what you'd expect.

But having fun
On potato run,
And digging them o'er and o'er.
Looking for pots,
And digging up rocks,
Is the potato hoer.

Twilight here
And darkness near
Trying to hunt the gold.
Striking a patch
Finding them match
Wishing I didn't feel old!

Lift a glass
Toast the last
Potatoes homegrown this year.
Gathering in,
For Christmas din,
More precious than gold, they're here.

:D

Close of a Friendship

Was getting used to being alone.
The silent smile.
The shadows of people who were once there,
And now are not and never can be.
But I never realised I was
Still attached to the shadows,
And have to let go of the shadows
To let the light of a future come in.

But that means saying goodbye...
And somehow, one never thinks
Even after they're gone,
That they'll only come back to say
Goodbye.
People merge from two to one
From one to two
From old to new.

And people come, and people go
And then they wonder at my silent smile.
And wonder why, as they stop to dig a while,
Why they don't get anywhere.
Cause I know, as they will learn soon,
That the digging is going to happen,
And that they'll uncover something -
And end up trashing it and moving on.

There's something more beautiful
Always lying in the distance,
And people ruin what they have now
Just to grasp at what's coming.
It's funny, you see...
People don't understand me.
Because I silently watch and silently smile
And hide me away because they'll leave in a while.

Some folks will vanish,
Some people just leave.
Some never came,
Some promised they'd cleave.
Some said they'd stick
Every inch of the way,
And some people forget me
Back in yesterday.

However, I can take
The rude curious stare
The rough careless hands
That try and hold me then let go.
See, I've got a God Who's
More powerful than you.
What you drop, He catches,
And cares for, and loves, and holds.

Don't think I'm alone in the silence.
I'm not. I learned to find God there.
In the stillness is where you find Him.
Even in the worst, worst pain.
People don't understand. Can't. Run away. Hide.
He doesn't. He's been here before.
So when you see me talking to thin air, don't care.
I'm talking to God, cause He's there.
The only One Who really cares.

Yeah, and on a final note,
Shadows, you can go when you please.
I'm here if you need me,
And I'm not if you don't.
But please don't try and hurt me by fake concern
When you're going to go.
And last thing - don't apologise for your friendship.
Cause I believed you once. And then - it hurts.
I don't want to hurt unless it's necessary.
And that isn't.

So thank you.
God be with you.
Goodbye.

My Birthday Song

Happy birthday to me,
Breakfast, dinner, tea.
Though in the USA,
I'm British to a tee.

Happy birthday, it's true.
Nineteen, colonising you.
Wave the US flag, talk British -
You'll be surprised quite soon.

Happy birthday at last,
Revolution in the past.
Singlehanded, won American hearts -
Beat this, King George, that fast.

Vive le United Kingdom et United States.

The Curse of a Writer

I have a character, hiding inside,
Lurking and scurrying, trying to hide,
Finding a place to burrow within,
Fermenting and bubbling and growing - with kin!
His size ever bigger, he dominates me,
Growing into my second personality.
He haunts my dreams and controls my pen,
Until I wonder, despairingly, when
If ever again he'll leave me alone -
Take his family and depart from my home.
But no, he'll haunt me the rest of my life;
Closer than near kindred, husband or wife -
This creature, the produce of my mind,
Inspired, but feeling aught but divine!
I know all his strengths, he my weaknesses;
That very fact can cause many stresses!
He learns quite well where to plague me, you know.
He absorbs all my dreams, filling them with woe.
But this is the curse of a writer, you see -
And God has granted this gift to me!

Andrew Beals and the Coke Battle

Another amusing one I wrote with sudden inspiration after remembering Katherine Hodgson's excellent, amusing and...truth-stretching blogs on Andrew Beals' and my friendly word battles over the various vantages of Coke vs Dr. Pepper.

You see, he thought it was quite a joke,
When I threatened Andrew Beals with coke.
No, it wasn't an outlawed drug,
But a drink I love to hug.
He defied my deepest love
My liquid darling, sugar dove;
Instead preferring Doctor Pepper!
What could someone from Coke sever?
So to bring him back to mind,
I attacked him with Coke from behind.
He went crying to the judge,
Who obviously must've had a grudge;
He said, "This British girl, I see,
Has committed a crime from lunacy."
On carrying my trident to the States,
Defending my Coke with whatever it takes -
They committed me to an asylum home,
Where I can no longer roam.
Oh Andrew Beals, can't you see,
What destruction you've done to me?
With greatest loneliness, I now find
So many people leave me behind.
My meals I'll have delivered by post,
To Andrew Beals I give this toast -
"My Coke is threatened no longer, tis true.
And I won't rid the world of you."

Jane Johnson,
25/05/11

Beautiful Girls

Smashing face on the bars,
Wishing it would scar.
Everything she hates
Especially on this date.

Features flat and plain,
She scratches them again.
Eyes so small and squinted,
Even when they're tinted.

Nose so fat and snub,
Figure like a blob.
Fingers small and stunted,
Chin too short and blunted.

The world passes her by,
With a scornful eye.
She shrinks beneath their gaze,
Scorched by their blaze.

Chasing the popular girls,
Trampling the pearls.
They never stop to see,
The worth in you and me.

Dragged in by their allure,
We follow, insecure.
Trying to become
"Attractive" for the fun.

We often fail to view
Heartbreaks of girls wooed,
For something that will fade,
And join the discarded cascade.

Stopping after a while,
We're now part of the pile.
A playtoy thrown away,
Unwanted after a day.

Just you look and see,
Never part of them were we.
God loves us as we are.
Plain, ugly, smashed apart.

King's daughters, Christ within.
Following the world is sin.
Keep your hearts on Christ and see
The mirror of you and me.

For Miguel ~ I Am a Pessimist

I don't often write poems with a sense of humour, but this is one I'm doing deliberately for Miguel, for calling me a pessimist. Hope it makes him laugh. :P

~ Jane


I am a pessimist,
Indubitably, forever.
If it suns, I look at the sky,
And predict it will ruin the heather.

A pessimist never smiles,
Must always ruin the fun.
If it rains, I sigh and groan,
And complain we never see sun.

If it's snowing, I sit under a quilt
All huddled up close and whine
That it's so cold, but I don't like summer.
I whinge and I peak and I pine.

When others are having a picnic,
I sit dolefully nearby.
They ask me what I'm thinking of.
I say RAIN and look at the sky.

My spirits always dampen you,
And make you lost at sea.
No wonder I lose so many friends -
They all run away from me!

Recently I bid a friend farewell,
Godspeed and come back soon.
They said it was morbid, and my friend Miguel
Proclaimed I'm a pessimistic boon.

He could've said a lot worse, I suppose.
Like I spoil every Buzz that I touch.
But then, even I would agree if he said,
Oh Jane, that's a LITTLE too much!

Hmm, what more can I say, because
I know he must be grinning by now.
Well, Mig, I hope for once that I've
Brought a smile to lips, eyes and brow!