I wrote this earlier this week (I think it was Monday 6th January). Dedicated to my food love. It is meant as a song but, as I can't write music, it's identifying as a poem.

Restaurant Affair

We steal a kiss together

Hiding at the back of the cellar

We both know that this can't go anywhere 

We're sneaking around in the kitchen

Trying to make sure nobody's listening

We both know we risk getting caught

The creeping around, it excites me

But I'll lose everything if they find me

Having a restaurant affair

The chef almost started a fire

The food is burning, so's my desire

We both know we shouldn't be here

It's becoming an addiction

But not one that I want fixing

I know it needs to end soon

With every noodle devoured

With hot sauce or sweet and sour

Having a restaurant affair

Doo doooo be do be dooo

This popped up in a Facebook memory from 11th January 2013. It's to the tune of Mambo No. 5.

A little bit of tennis on the Wii

A little bit of drinking cups of tea

A little bit of Wordsworth in the book

A little linguistics, take a look

A little bit of lunch then I suppose

It'll be time to wash some clothes

A little bit of tv after noon

Then my little boys will be home soon...

Doo doooo be do be doooo...

Christmas 2024

I wrote this poem during the early hours of Christmas Day (25th December) 2024. It has also been shared on Vocal Media

Christmas tree and gifts. Image, taken 25/12/2024, is my own.

Christmas 2024

A very merry Christmas

To all our family and friends

Good wishes for the new year

And for happiness that never ends

For some, it's just another day

For others, an extravagant affair

A time for faith and contemplation

Small gatherings or big celebration

A time to give and share

We send our Christmas greetings

To our loved ones, far and near

We'll raise a glass for those we've lost

To the people who can't be here

Yuletide blessings are wished for you

Good tidings and greetings of the season

Old family traditions flowing

Or new ones budding and growing

A day of connection and cohesion

Blessed Yuletide, happy Wednesday

Merry Christmas, blessed be

All the best to all of you

From my menfolk and me

©Sapphire M. Ravenclaw 2024

Blessings of a Mother

This poem popped up in my Facebook memories from 22nd March 2022, which would have been Mothers' Day here in the UK.

I don't recall if 'Happy Mother's Day' was the title I gave it or just part of the full post. I have kept that in here while also giving a new title for this post.

Happy Mother's Day.

I have two boys

Grown up so well

Smart and capable

Loving and thoughtful

You make me proud

And always will.

I'm doubly blessed

With two bonus daughters

Thank you for welcoming me

For making my world so much bigger

Plus bonus granddaughters one, two, and three.

My mother is

This poem was written in 2010 by my eldest son. He was 10 years old at the time. It popped up in my Facebook memories, and I have decided to share it here.

My mother is

The sparkliest pearl in the deep blue sea

The loveliest cuddle in the room

The best source of warmth on Earth

My mother is

The precious diamond in a ring

A distant star out in space

A shining gem stone so bright it makes the ground light up

All I want to say is happy mother's day

Have a Happy New Year

I wish you all the best for 2023

And ask that light will balance the dark

May positivity lead the way

And you can leave your mark

Work towards that goal of yours

If that is your desire

Remember, though, that it's OK

If no goals you require

Aim high or low or in between 

Don't feel under pressure

Work on your dreams, if you so wish

But do it at your leisure

Again, I wish you all the best

Whatever that means for you

Hello 2023, goodbye 2022.

 Note - I found this poem in an old notebook that my sons had found while clearing out their bedroom. I didn't remember writing the poem but, as I read it, my 22 year old said it sounded like one of mine! I also looked up some of the words just to make sure it wasn't someone else's, although I don't know why I would have written out a poem in my book that wasn't mine. The scribbles, edits, and crossings out would, perhaps, also be a clue that it is something I wrote. 🤣

There was no title (as I rarely include titles unless I have to). There was no date on the poem either. With the help of some other notes in the book that mentioned a day and date (but not the year), however, I deduced that the poem was probably written some time in 2013.

I have made up the title on the spot today (Sunday 14th August 2022) but please feel free to comment if you have any better ideas for the title.

Envisage

Here I am at Brooklyn Bridge

I can see the Eiffel Tower

As I stand against Niagara Falls 

I feel alive with power.

 

In truth, I have been nowhere

No such exciting times

I only envisage the moments

Within my imagining mind.

Oh, how wonderful it would be

To have such opportunity

But I must continue to stand alone

Against the old oak

In a garden, overgrown.

by Sapphire M. Ravenclaw

While I have never visited the places mentioned in the poem, I have since visited plenty of other places in England as well as my first trip to another country in 2019 (Mallorca). There are still so many places - in the UK and abroad - that are on my bucket list. Perhaps I'll write more about them if it happens.

 

Winter

 Written in the morning of 26th January 2021. It had been snowing on and off for a couple of days prior. I was looking out of my window onto what was left of the snow on the trees that had been almost completely covered.

Another wintry morning, a blanket of white embraces the ground.

A perfect day to stay indoors while the snow abounds.

As I watch the birds from my window, sitting in the trees

The air outside seems peaceful, with barely a rustle of the leaves.

 

A perfect day to stay indoors while the snow abounds

On this cold and cloudy Tuesday, only the birds make any sound

The air outside seems peaceful, with barely a rustle of the leaves

Some snow still hangs from branches like cold cotton sleeves.

 

On this cold and cloudy Tuesday, only the birds make any sound

Blue peaks through the turbid sky that mirrors the frosty ground.

Some snow still hangs from branches like cold cotton sleeves

The white stuff falls from roofs as icicles hang from eaves.

 

Blue peaks through the turbid sky that mirrors the frosty ground

Another wintry morning, a blanket of white embraces the ground.

The white stuff falls from roofs as icicles hang from eaves

As I watch the birds from my window, sitting in the trees.