Poem; A moment caught in time.

My thoughts' reach back
To a time, when there was
No entertainment, and you and I
Went to Nell's Café.
I was only sixteen, but thought
I had it all, when the jute-box called.
We sat drinking coffee, you and I
Listening to Johnny Ray, singing
The songs of that day.
Uniformed figures stood around,
And then, when the music stopped
It was put on again...and again!
The music played on, 'Walking my
Baby back home,' and 'Little white
Cloud that cried,' and I, with others
Was up on cloud nine, when in
My world everything was fine.
There was 'Sugar' the cook,
Only five feet tall, who was
Arrogant and cocky, trying to
Pull all the girls, who laughed,
Not wanting to give him a whirl.
And there was Andy, who wore
Teddy-boy clothes, sporty a D A
Haircut, a Londoner who looked
Out of place, in this  uptown place.
They all came here from the camp
Up the road, to find a friendly face.
You and I were so in love,
And on the way home on your motorbike,
You would sing to me on the darkest night,
'Walking my baby back home.'
Those were magical moments
That I recall, when I had you,
And wanted nothing more.

Augustine Nash.

Poem; The luck of the Devil!

Have you ever had one
Of those weeks, where nothing
Goes right, and you cry in the night?
First, my budgie, Joseph Boy died,
I miss his chirps and his talk,
And, when I walk into the room,
It is filled with gloom.
Then my oven broke down,
Just as I was going to get dinner,
Mind you, without those oven chips
I am no thinner!
Ok, I say, what's next, there must
Be three in a row, and would you know,
My microwave started playing up,
I had, had enough!
But wait, there's more for me in store,
The man building my garden fence,
Just up and went, not finishing off,
So I phoned him, yes he'd be there
Tomorrow, but to my dismay
The stain ran off the gate in the rain.
My new glasses case broke in half,
Which gave my friend a laugh!
She said, "I've read of people like you,
Who have the meanest of luck,
But cheer up, Christmas is coming!"

Augustine Nash.

Hi everyone, please take a look at my new EBook which is now out on Amazon,
title; 'The Camera Never Lies,' by Augustine Nash.
This is a dark murder/mystery story with just a touch
of humour, those street cameras see everything!
Augustine Nash.

Poem; Where does it end?

Sometimes I wonder how far
Infinity goes,
Above the clouds and past
The rainbow.
Is there life out there,
In outer space,
Or is just imagination
By the human race.
Can that space go on
For ever and ever,
With dust storms and
all sorts of weather,
Doesn't everything have
An end,
Like roads and cities,
And my friends, countries.
I like to think it ends
Out there,
At the pearly gates,
Where God awaits.

Augustine Nash.

Poem; I missed the boat....

I don't look in the mirror any more,
I know what I have in store.
Those wrinkles underneath my eyes,
That greying hair,
Of 76 years of care.
Sometimes I wonder when I see,
Those beauties on Television screen,
Was I missing when the looks
Were dolled out?
They say that beauty is skin deep,
That may be true,
But now it seems beauty and body
Are everything!
Does it mean nothing that my
Heart is in the right place?
And I try not to let people down,
Or try to frown on them.
So, I don't use the mirror anymore,
have never been vain,
But, can I be beautiful next time
I come back to this earth again?

Augustine Nash.

Poem; It can't only happen to me!

Have you ever had one of those days,
Where nothing goes your way? And
You feel like leaving home, to roam.
Yesterday, I must say, was my
All, the day nearly drove me up
The wall!
I was feeling good, until I got
Out of bed, and hit my head,
I was seeing sun, moon, and stars!
But it did not end there, I'm sorry
To say, my toilet handle broke,
And I can't flush, so I go to use the
Other loo, and guess what, the
Seat broke, how I needed that
Plummer bloke. Three cold-call
Phones before dinner, no wonder
My patience is getting thinner.
I thought that was the end of
My bad luck for the day, but
When I opened the fridge door
The jam-pot fell out, broke all
over the floor. Little sharp pieces
Everywhere, how I despaired.
I stemmed that cut on my thumb
And made a cup of tea, then
Spilled it over me. Surely nothing
Else can go wrong, so I turn
The radio on. Ah! such sweet
Music to my ears, until I have
An electric cut, I've had enough!
Have you ever had one of those days,
Where you could scream, rant, and rave?
Augustine Nash.

Poem; Shamina.

I remember so well,
The women in the next bed,
She said, nothing.
We were in hospital together,
And the weather was wet.
Wet as the tears pouring
Down her face, that I
Tottered round and sat down,
Beside her. "What is your name?"
I asked, admiring her beauty,
Long dark hair, brown skin,
And eyes I kept wanting to
Look in.
"Shamina, and you would not
 Wish to be in my shoes."
Her voice was soft and gentle,
As she explained, "My husband
Beat me up, I'm in here again."
I struggled to find the right words,
Did she know there was safe houses,
Where she could go?
"I can't," she said, "He'd find me
And I would be dead."
She went on, "He is a control
Freak, you know, and I am not
Allowed to go anywhere," I
Could hear her despair. And I
Thought how lucky I am,
To have had such a good man.
I could not forget her cries
Of pain, and so, when I went home
Again, I wrote a book about her,
Title, 'Shamina, walk a mile in my shoes.'
Yet she could have walked away,
And I wonder to this day,
What happened to her?

Augustine Nash.