REFLECTIONS and RHYME

This poem contains my thoughts and musings on the end of Summer turning slowly in to the Autumn.
As with all things in life, we must learn to say goodbye, whilst then embracing the new for as long as we can.
 
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This poem has a look at the many treasures which we have in our beautiful county of Derbyshire and also at the treasures within these obvious treasures which may be missed.
I guess it is about the smaller, quieter delights which are all around us if we know where to look and if we sometimes take the time to stop, notice and enjoy them.
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Thank you! 
Allison.

Here is the next poem which is basically about my experience of secondary school, the good bits and the not so good.
I’m sure that it will jog old memories of that first day there, the giant uniforms, the feelings of being someone very small in a huge place and many other recollections.
Perhaps you remember the dominant gang who seemed to rule the roost, or some of the lovely teachers ( and not so lovely teachers) who taught you, along with some of the friends you made there. Whatever you remember, I hope you enjoy this walk down memory lane.
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This is a delightful piece of reminiscence for those of you, like me who have always had a sweet tooth!
I’ll bet there are a number of sweets in this poem which you had completely forgotten about, but which will bring back a load of happy memories regarding where you were and who you were with when you used to buy them.
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This is a reflective poem and is basically an ode to the people we grew up with way back when and how they and the times we had together remain with us. 
Even now, these memories can give us strength when needed through the ups and downs of today.
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This is a look back at a wonderful childhood in Derbyshire, which I hope many can empathise with, wherever your countryside upbringing was and if you didn’t grow up in the countryside, I hope you enjoy the pictures in your mind which I have tried to create here.
The long days when we would set off early and get back at dusk without anyone really worrying for our safety because if we had any problems (which we rarely did), we would just run back. The woods and moors were our playground and our imaginations could run free to create all sorts of places and games. Such experiences still give us strength today.
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This is a short poem, which I wrote for my mum when she was alive. 
From somewhere in her past she had the first line in her head, but after extensive research, I couldn’t find anything with that line in it, so I started with that first line and wrote the poem myself.
It combines memories from her childhood and mine in Baslow where there was a field up the road which we called "the Bunny Bank" because there were always lots of rabbits playing in the briars there.Mum loved this poem, in fact it was one of two poems that I read at her funeral last
October and looking back, was a catalyst to getting me writing again.
So, as I say, the first line isn’t mine, but the rest is and if anyone knows where the original can be found, I would love to hear.
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This poem is a gardener’s delight, at least that is what I initially set to to write about. However, as I continued to write, I realised that it is about other things too. It is about the solace which being amongst nature can bring and the calming effect which it has for us.
It is also about our connection to the nature all around us and it to us, the oneness of everything.
It looks at the joys and satisfaction of feeling the soil between your fingers and the wonderful flowers, fruit and vegetables which be plant each spring time and eat or harvest in the summer and Autumn.  
The poem’s conclusion is that we are not only planting for ourselves, but by doing so, we are hopefully also planting for our children’s future years.
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This poem is a nostalgic walk around my old Primary school classroom. I only have to close my eyes and I am back there with the sights, smells and feelings experienced.
Everything from the clanking radiators, the store cupboard and the smell of dinner cooking next door, gets a mention. Do you remember the smell of the plasticine and the sound of the blackboard revolving, along with the kindly voice of your teacher as she taught you how to read and write? Do you recall the book corner where she read a story to everyone at the end of the day as you nodded off?
 I hope that some lovely memories are triggered for you as you listen.
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Thank you! 
Allison.

This poem is about the pre-school nursery which I went to in the hamlet of Bubnell, England,  when I was 2 or 3 years old.
It covers my old memories and  also musings as to what happened to the teddy that I used to play with.A little more melancholy perhaps.