Enjoying The Sun

I saw Di’ yesterday,

I enjoyed her stay,

We sat in the garden

Lapping up the sun.

We both drank beer

Raising some cheer

To our relationship

Full of courtship. 

Our romancing

Is blossoming,

I’m a gentleman

And she’s a Lady.

I do what I can

For my honey. 

© Andrew Stevenson 29/05/2018

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

Friendly Happy

I’ve been for a walk with Sadie,

We strolled by the River Dee

Which is always nice to see

With its beautiful scenery:

I was aptly, happily smiling

Under our bright sun shining.

I let my pet dog off the lead

And gave the ducks a feed. 

I love Sadie with all my heart

And dread the day she will part,

She is nicely pleasant company

Which is a healing for mad me.

She is pleasingly a nice remedy

To my sometimes insane insanity.

© Andrew Stevenson 26/05/2018

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

Mr Puddle

Excuse me, Mr Puddle,

I am all in a muddle,

I looked down to see

And saw you were me. 

How can this be

When I am me,

I looked again,

Still the same. 

I pulled a funny face

And it took your place.

I poked a curious finger

Where yours did linger.

You are a copycat,

I do not like that,

Everything I do

You are doing too.

You just do not care

That I do not share.

Please stop it I say

Or I will go away. 

I am going to tell my mum

What you have just done.

And I will not say goodbye

As you have made me cry.

                ***

I am now back, Mr Puddle,

And I am not in a muddle,

I looked down again to see,

And know why you are me. 

You came from a big cloud

Which thundered very loud,

And it struck down lightning

That was really frightening. 

Down comes the pouring rain,

Drop and drip, again and again.

Lots of these drips can cuddle

To form into a garden puddle. 

You replay me where I am seen

Just like our television screen.

But my reflection is my own

And I will take it back home. 

                     ***

Mr Puddle, you made me cry,

So I will jump high in the sky,

And fall down again and again

To land on you like lots of rain. 

Thud, splash, dash and fun,

You spray like a water gun.

Ha, ha, it serves you right

For provoking me to fight.

I am going to fib and pretend

That you were my wet friend.

So I will tell my angry mum

That you also had lots of fun. 

I will now say goodbye,

And look up to the sky.

Next time there is rain,

We might play again? 

© Andrew Stevenson 12/03/2017 

I have tried to keep the wording in this poem very simple, as it’s demographic audience is for youngsters. I have also tried to make the poem fun, which is expressed in parts one and three (separated by asterisks), and informative, which is expressed in part two.

There is some repetition with some words, such as ‘rain’ and ‘again‘, but I think with children’s poetry this is mainly trivial if the words are phrased quite differently. I have also kept out any difficult punctuation (for young children), such as apostrophes and colons.

 

A re-edited piece.

 

Thank  you. Love love, Andrew.

A Star With Might

Beyonce holds palms of hands with devoted fans, and they embrace her traits of compassion, and feel sincerity in her gentle warmth, which is expressed in her genialness and their happiness: goose-bumps play along with her song of worldly belong, which tease with the ease of her tuneful breeze. 

She floats on stage flying in a sea of arms waving, with some crying, and others craving to touch her reciprocally with sensitivity, as she is a lady in all of her demeanour, which they savour, and she takes them to her realms of euphoria, with some hysteria, as she is a goddess with prowess, who struts her shapely curves, and notes from a throat of worth, and enchants us in her fashion and Passion.

An intellectual with a voice to be heard, with a sound word to play in our ear, that sings along with a Chorus throng, as she embraces a mass of the lower class, who are equal in many respects, and have hope in her scope of equality, as she, like many of we, has humble roots, which have grown and sown other seeds of worthy creeds, as she is Christianly in morality, and her values are a sanctity, shared and cared for in our conceptual reality. 

© Andrew Stevenson 12/03/2017

 

A re-edited piece.

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

Not My Fault

I had a relapse, arguing at a bus stop

And using myself as a theatre prop

I threw my arms about in a rage

For a considerable, lengthy age. 

I was delusional and frightened,

As my perception heightened

I was fearful as to what might ensue

As passengers stuck to me like glue. 

You knocked into me, not me into you,

It wasn’t my fault, you already knew,

Leave me alone as I am prone

To moan in an argumentative tone. 

I think, who are you really, and why

Are you offended enough to cry,

As you struck the first verbal blow

With your partner behind in tow. 

© Andrew Stevenson 12/03/2017

 

A re-edited piece.

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

A Caring Pairing.

I love the Lady I am seeing,

Our lovable, lovely dating

Is aptly pleasantly pleasing,

We’re both liking romancing

And enjoy kissing and cuddling,

Di’ is caring with kind sharing

And I am glad of our pairing

As we like each-others’ loving. 

I am seeing her tomorrow,

I do hope devoid of sorrow

As she’s prone to get ill

With sadly feeling unwell.

Positively we strive on

With a loving wisdom.

© Andrew Stevenson 23/05/2018

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

A Loving Treasure

I love my girlfriend,

She is very beautiful,

She is my best friend

And is very amicable.

She is so nicely sweet –

A tasty palatable treat,

And the times we meet

We both feel a hot heat. 

Di’ lovingly loves me

Experiencing serenity

Sharing our company

Aptly acting responsibly.

She’s a pleasing pleasure

Of which I wisely treasure. 

© Andrew Stevenson 23/05/2018

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

Loving Her Caring

I see my Honey on Thursday,

She’s been on a short holiday

To a hotel in bonnie Scotland

With sight and scenery grand.

I love her pleasant company

And can’t wait for her to be

In my waiting, loving arms

Lavishing me with her charms. 

I love ‘Di’ with all of my heart,

And miss her when we’re apart,

She is nicely refreshingly loving

And likes giving as she’s caring.

We share a great compatibility

As she knows all of my family. 

© Andrew Stevenson 23/05/2018

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

Play Day Wednesday

I’m taking out my Grandchildren later,

I will be picking up their Grandmother,

We are going to a community centre

Where the kids have fun with laughter

As they do tricks and flips gymnastics

With Lacy May fully able to do the splits:

She also does hip-hop dance routine’s

In a class with competition dance teams. 

We go every week, on a Wednesday,

And it is nice to see the kids play,

I take them to their Nan’s to stay

And pick them up in the morning.

Kenzie and Lacy May are loving

With their kind sharing with caring. 

© Andrew Stevenson 23/05/2018

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

To Be Or Not To Be

Is mother nature appreciative to loves? 

She reaps the wind to spread the seed

Without some thought of interactive need –

Striving life flourishes without her hugs. 

Is mother nature careless in generosity? 

All beauty is inclusive from deep within,

Not conforming to hers and societies sin –

Mindful eyes are devoid of this hypocrisy. 

Is mother nature favourable to our greed? 

Does she blossom our prairies of grain gripe

Out of season from third world sight plight;

Assisting the massacre of the humble weed! 

Is Mother Nature conscious to the unconscious? 

Are you blessed with her proud grazing caress,

Or are you under needless disrespectful duress?

Live and love life with her equality regardless. 

© Andrew Stevenson 21/05/2018 

The first triplet of verse after the first question expresses that lots of life is devoid of love.  

Mother Nature is beautiful, it is we that mostly tarnish the wonders of it all. We should respect all life when and where possible. I am always mindful not to hurt any creature if it is avoidable, and feel wonderfully good in helping with assistance to their immediate needs.

To See Is To Be

I have subjection's about being on injections,

A medical liberty of injustice transparency,

As I am a victim of considerable negligence –

An act of severance with some perseverance;

I will fight my defence with intelligence whence

I make my regular six-month timely appearance,

That I have to attend, enough to send you insane

With deliberating the psychiatric madness blame,

As I am judged in haste to become hospital waste

As I’m prone to raise my voice – a frustrated choice.  

I'll stand my ground with defence, with the appetence

Of taking control over my adherence of appearance,

In the vain hope of the shrink to think without a stink

As to my history of being psychotic with being sick,

I will detain my suspect with respect of my wisdom

As I want to go and come with my daughter and son

Without being too induced, so I want my meds reduced. 

© Andrew Stevenson 27/03/2017

 

A re-edited piece. Thankfully my medication suits my now.

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

I Feel And Heel

I love you with nice care,

With my life laid bare,

I am an open book to read,

And a conquest to heed. 

You keep my rationally sane,

Regardless of all my pain,

But I’ll leave my sorrows

For much better tomorrows. 

Hold me and I will reciprocate,

Reap loving spoils that eradicate

My negativity and irrationality

With wise, humane positivity. 

© Andrew Stevenson 21/05/2018

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

Forty-Nine And Fine

Hip, hip hooray,

It’s my mate’s birthday,

He’ll celebrate

With a chocolate cake

And Carling beer

With his near and dear.

A year older

And somewhat wiser. 

It was nice to see family –

I enjoyed their company,

My mate had a barbeque

With nice meat to chew.

The kids were in a pool

To keep them very cool.

© Andrew Stevenson 20/05/2018

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

Appreciate Reiterate

I wandered as lonely as a snow cloud

And flaked out all over earth’s beauty,

And covered what could be proud

Like that drowning, swallowing sea. 

Drown in existent, hardship sorrows,

A long hard breath until the end –

That mother nature humbly swallows

As our procreating, breast aching friend. 

Reach up high and taste the apple of life,

A bitter-sweet reprisal for insane strife,

That reaps its sown earthly, manly crop

Of blood sucking breath not forgot. 

Philosophise a remedy for harmony,

And wish for heaven from hell on earth,

And embrace and nurture a friendship

With others who also suffer hardship. 

© Andrew Stevenson 17/05/2018

Alienated Philosophy

It is written: ‘ashes to ashes, dust to dust’, but logic says that it is: ‘dust to dust, water to water. Our bodies are approximately 70-80% water, most of which is living DNA, and the rest is programmed DNA, such as bones, hair, etc. Most water, in some point in time, travels back to the sea, perhaps with some, or a lot, of species DNA (including humans). 

Here’s a possible philosophical premise: there is DNA in space. We are approximately 70-80% water within our bodies, our water is living DNA (besides water intake); we freeze sperm and eggs, and when defrosted these can come back to life; there is lots of ice in space! 

© Andrew Stevenson 17/05/2018

Conscious To The Unconscious

You know, there is intelligence in trees, as they seek the sun, and as such have some type of consciousness, as to be unconscious, they would grow like robots, in a sense of order, but they grow with their own sense of seeking, and thus must be feeling, but not as us, with eyes to see, and a care to bear, but they have their roots firmly embedded in the ground, a type of haven. But perhaps this is not the case, and they are on an ‘auto drive’ consciousness, and are thus unconscious, and an analogy of this would be a computer, we can programme one, and it will function from that input alone, and not think for itself, in a psych sense! 

Nonetheless, we cannot dispute the intelligence of trees, as they seek the sun, which is evident all around us. 

You know, logic says that there was only one apple tree to start with, and that it had its own genetic code, yet in Britain, there are over three hundred different types, which is evidenced from reading their individual genetic codes. Did all of these trees evolve separately, or did they branch off from each other! If they branched off from each other, this indicates an intellect, as in building on code, regardless of a psych sense. Computers can do likewise, as in some programmes the input warrants them to act in a particular way, such as picking up on particular words threading through the satellites in space, and thus acting upon it. 

Now the computers have intellect, but this is unconscious, and were created by humans, who are conscious. So if the trees don’t have a consciousness, what consciousness created these! 

(Logic says that trees perhaps evolve through climatic and environmental conditions, as species do, with God’s will.) 

© Andrew Stevenson 17/05/18

Fighting Back With A Rap

Jay Z is a gentleman, and conducts himself sensibly and appropriately, and has a symphony of characteristics: he disregarded womanising by romanticising Beyonce, which plucked her heart-strings with the bling’s of love, as he is platinum when it comes to a companion, and is a wealth of gold for her to lovingly hold, which symbolises that he is glowing in blowing a tuneful rap, that is respectful, and not neglectful, as she is a lady with a morality of standing, and has an understanding of environmental upbringing. He has an empathetic care to stare back at the ghetto, and is sick at the stick that comes with it, that beats a drum of bleats so glum, as lambs are led to slaughter, a gospel truth of patient growth, and he doesn’t like the brass in some hoods’ pockets, who tap into rap to pile their crap of emptying their sack, he is not derogatory to femininity, and his masculinity is an art apart to reap an apple cart of female pride. 

His demeanour oozes modesty, and his words are humble, and with a grumble he expresses the concrete jungle, which can be heard in his lyrics, and felt in his sorrow, as where is the hope for the poor when the political score is beg, steal or borrow to see you into tomorrow, as poverty is rife, and prosperity booms away from these tombs that lock up many a resident in their home, and lots are tearful and alone, and some are fearful and prone to carry a gun, as the dwelling of a wondering of a bruising while wayfaring in the heat of the street must be nerve-racking. 

© Andrew Stevenson 12/03/2017

The reference to apples is indicative of wisdom, from an Adam and Eve sense!

 

A re-edited piece.

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

At Times

I like a nice, quiet drink

Where I rationally think

About my mentality,

Sometimes a gravity

Of insane insensibility.

Yet, I love socialising

Without patronising

Negativities opposing. 

I have my paranoia moments

And suspicions with movements

Of the populace around me –

Paradoxically being free

But I still feel locked up

As I swallow, sip and sup.

© Andrew Stevenson 12/03/2017

 

A re-edited piece.

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

Overdosed

Who’ll mourn if the come down doesn’t wake him,

Not most of his victims of criminality for sure.

He weakly fought and lost his battle within

And on any help had slammed shut the door.

No tears will seep from us, for his life was sin –

But not always, there was a respectful time before

When he’d paid taxes, and was thoughtful to kin;

He knew what love was, and his family did implore,

But he left them for dead when he went out to score. 

Her son, who once could do no wrong in her loving eyes

Before his time had been laid to transgressing rest.

With tears she regrettably said her farewell goodbyes

Whilst packing away his memories in the old attic chest.

Yet just across town her son slowly breathed in air,

With no one to lend a hand, and now also a care. 

© Andrew Stevenson 13/03/2017

 

A re-edited piece.

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

Having Bipolar

The time of day ticks by slowly, drawing in the night,

And undercover is a brightness plight,

As I am lethargic and restless –

Superficially painless. 

My smiles and cheeriness fade into a space,

Where loneliness picks up its pace,

To draw on my intellect,

With a mind to dissect. 

I am twisted in two, this way or that way,

Indecisive affray to play or decay,

And as I rot in thoughtfulness,

In comes the darkness. 

I have to look before I leap, and under the sheet

I sleep, and bleat and bleat and bleat,

And as the hours are stolen away,

I live to fight another day. 

© Andrew Stevenson 12/03/2017

 

A re-edited piece.

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

Lovably Lovable

I am seeing my Babe later,

I have come to love her,

We are nicely blossoming

With our wooing romancing. 

I think she is a sweet Lady

And I feel so incredibly lucky

When I have her in my arms

Expressing her loving charms. 

We spend a few hours together,

This to me is pleasing pleasure,

I love her sharing her company

With humble and modest me.

Di’ is beautiful inside and out,

She has luscious lips that are pout

Which are dreamy to nicely kiss

With longitude creating my bliss.

She is pleasantly caring with me,

A source of my happy tranquillity,

It is always pleasing to nicely see

Her reciprocating back lovingly. 

© Andrew Stevenson 07/05/2018

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

Blossoming Love

I see Di’ today,

Hip, hip hooray,

She is very pretty

And acts sensibly

Loving happy me

Giving me serenity,

I will be aptly loud

That I’m now proud.

I love her on my arm

Expressing her charm

Of being beautiful

Making me fruitful

In everything I do

As I love her too. 

© Andrew Stevenson 07/05/2018

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

A Long Walk With My Dog

I’m off to my Mother’s soon,

I’ll be walking across town,

The flowers will be in bloom

Which will make me frown

With happiness and some love

With the sun shining above.

I will be tending her garden

Whose grass is now overrun. 

I’ll be seeing my daughter and ex

Later on today as I’ve had a text

To say they’ll be on their way

After their car-boot-sale stay.

I will enjoy seeing my family

Who are happily very friendly. 

© Andrew Stevenson 06/05/2018

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

A Steady Pace

My girlfriend likes romancing,

Which to me is very pleasing,

She is wooing me pleasantly

And I am acting gentlemanly

By taking things at her pace

As I like her not being in haste.

She is lovably loving with love

And gives me a big, squeezy hug. 

Di’ is wise expressing an intellect

Of knowing what is nicely best,

She enjoys reading my pieces

And praises me for my graces.

We share a fondness for each-other

And enjoy our time shared together. 

© Andrew Stevenson 06/05/2018

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

I Hope For No Sorrow Tomorrow

I’m seeing Di’ tomorrow,

Lately she is full of sorrow

As she’s been feeling sick

Suffering the bodily stick

That comes with it as well,

But today she feels swell

Which aptly I hope will last

So she is not prone to fast. 

Di’ is pleasantly pleasing

With kissing and hugging,

We both express loving

With sharing and caring.

I’m made up we’re together

Which I hope will last forever. 

© Andrew Stevenson 06/05/2018

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

Springtime Sunshine

I have just walked Sadie,

It’s a gloriously sunny day

Making me quite happy

As we went on our way.

I like to get a brown tan

With as much sun as I can.

On the lead I was in control

While we had a pleasant stroll. 

Springtime flowers were blooming

With their bright colours consuming,

Daffodils were swaying in the breeze –

My hay-fever was making me sneeze.

Ducks were floating and quacking

In the canal that we were passing. 

© Andrew Stevenson 06/05/2018

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew.

Believe And Do Not Grieve

Look up to the sky

And hear the cry

Of our God up high

As to why deny

We are all to die. 

Some will be in purgatory

For their inability to see

Sensibly to Jesus wise plea

That after-life is heavenly

If you come to believe in He.

Jesus preached forgiveness

To alleviate personal stress

At believing in what’s best

Having more and not less

Of His apt words to digest. 

Jesus’ still gave supplication

To an unbelieving nation

Adhering to religious separation

Not believing He is God's Son

Preaching His wise wisdom. 

Will you pray this Sunday

For Jesus to lead the way

To a brighter and better day

Of being happier while at play

In God’s image made of clay. 

© Andrew Stevenson 05/05/2018

 

Thank you. Love love, Andrew. God bless.