Wednesday, March 19, 2008

JUST ONE DANCE

JUST ONE DANCE

She'd seen him of course,

danced around him, so to speak,

avoided him, definitely,

this man who represented risk,

excitement, but more than likely

trouble.

It would be okay,

so she thought,

as long as,

well, as long as he kept

his distance, he could look,

but no more.

A hundred reasons to steer clear

were bouncing round her head,

but she didn't account for

others, who threw them together,

made it impossible to leave

without one dance,

when the connection

became chemistry,

more dangerous and life destroying

than anything touched by naked flame,

sending her into free-spin,

clutching at a reason to escape.

A RANT

WHY IS IT THAT...


So the press have had to cough up, and not before time too.

No one can have failed to take an interest in the upsetting tale of what happened to Madeleine McCann. There is not a family in the land who wouldn't weep with joy if this pretty little girl was found alive. But what did happen to Madeleine? The problem is no one knows. And what does the press do if they don't know? They make it up.

Andrew Neil summed it up well today, saying it is the story of a little girl who simply vanished.
There is no answer to her demise so the story had legs, it was up and running, way, way too fast.

Everyone wants answers and the painful truth is there sometimes just aren't any.

What is important now is how the McCanns cope. They have two other beautiful children, who remember their big sister and must ask where she is. Imagine waking every morning with the thought of what happened to your little girl. Imagine trying to sleep every night not knowing the answer to this question.

We all have theories and most of them don't have a happy ending. I am personally not even convinced she was abducted. I still have this gut feeling she woke and wandered into the night, looking for her parents. Whatever the answer, it is time now for the family to have the courage to move on. If for no other reason than the welfare and happiness of their remaining children.

This doesn't mean that they have given up, for until a body is found, there is always a glimmer of hope, no matter how faint. But the reality is that ten years from now nothing may have changed. So let's all give this family a break and leave them alone. I just hope they have the courage to get on with the rest of their lives.

KENYA 2008

KENYA - 2008

Imagine the terror, the pain and the sight,

of a distraught mother fighting her plight,

they torched what they thought was a place to be safe,

and murdered her baby, the poor little waif.

She climbed out the window fleeing the heat,

cutting her arms and ripping her feet,

but evil was waiting and grabbed from her arms,

a terrified baby intending her harm.

With no conscience, feeling or stopping for breath,

they hurled a small innocent to meet certain death,

within an inferno started by them,

as she screamed a demented, last requiem.

She may breathe and look alive to those that don’t know,

but her life’s lost direction there’s nothing to show

her why this small innocent was ripped from her heart

there’s nothing to live for there’s nowhere to start.

What future can she have with memories like this?

Unable to sleep and deprived of the kiss

from the man that she loved, also lost in the fire,

so she stares into space near her life’s funeral pyre.

Simple Things

SIMPLE THINGS

Raindrops falling in puddles,

that first frosty breath

that makes you do it again.

The crinkle in your nose

when sub zero hits,

and there’s an excuse to wear

chocolate brown leather gloves

and a lime green scarf tied loosely.

A properly prepared latte that

glides down your throat

as you sit undisturbed with your

favourite magazine, knowing you can

sit there for five minutes or five hours,

the choice is yours.

Playing the CD you love

to have so loud it ricochets off

the leather interior you can afford.

Spending the money you

and you alone have earned.

Checking the balance that has

your name.

Reading in bed

listening to the wind

with the faint drone of the radio

playing the usual midnight rubbish,

that doesn’t seem to irritate any more.

Waking up every morning,

not really caring whether it rains or shines,

but knowing that whatever you do

is your decision.

Having two mornings in every week,

when you are not ruled by an alarm clock

as you stare out the bathroom window

at snow covered mountains, some will

only ever see in dreams.