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life and love

It seems like yesterday By Gillian Sims

On May Morning by John Milton – Famous poet


Life of John Milton (1608-1674)


John Milton was born on December 9, 1608, in London, as the second child of John and Sara (neé Jeffrey). The family lived on Bread Street in Cheapside, near St. Paul’s Cathedral. John Milton Sr. worked as a scrivener, a legal secretary whose duties included preparation and notarization of documents , as well as real estate transactions and moneylending. Milton’s father was also a composer of church music, and Milton himself experienced a lifelong delight in music. The family’s financial prosperity afforded Milton to be taught classical languages, first by private tutors at home, followed by entrance to St. Paul’s School at age twelve, in 1620. 

In 1625, Milton was admitted to Christ’s College, Cambridge. While Milton was a hardworking student, he was also argumentative to the extent that only a year later, in 1626, he got suspended after a dispute with his tutor, William Chappell.


On May Morning

Now the bright morning Star, Day’s harbinger,
Comes dancing from the East, and leads with her
The Flowery May, who from her green lap throws
The yellow Cowslip, and the pale Primrose.
Hail bounteous May that dost inspire
Mirth and youth, and warm desire,
Woods and Groves, are of thy dressing,
Hill and Dale, doth boast thy blessing.
Thus we salute thee with our early Song,
And welcome thee, and wish thee long.

On May Morning

by John Milton




A shriek from the realms of the heart
echoes within the veins
Swiping aside the sweet melody
breathing the saddened symphony….

Bruises unseen felt when touched
respire through the open wounds
The salve to soothen the lesion
Has vanished in the gloom…

Words of comfort ne’er
Calm the ache,
as a sojourn
can ne’er blossom flowers
on a dying barren state…


The taxpayer


We all pay council tax

Road tax and VAT

Speeding fines

That affects you and me

We are all subject to parking fines

Speed cameras and CCTV

Road tax and now car parks

That affects you and me

Income tax on pensions

Stamp duty, inheritance to

TV licence and Water rates

Once again affect me and you

Tax on saving in the bank

How do we survive?

Death duty when we die

Tax to the hilt while alive

No wonder the country’s in mess

For we are paying for their mistakes

People who can ill afford it

When will they get their brakes?

I can’t see anything changing

For we don’t have a choice

For decisions are made by other

As taxpayers we have no voice

The attitude of government is simple

We will screw the people to pay

For we can manipulate the people

Lets face it; the taxpayer has no say

Malcolm G Bradshaw

My Facebook friends


I have 5000 friends

From all around the world,

They’ve been collected like stamps

From America England and France,

Along the way I gained advice

Some very interesting facts,

Along with great knowledge

From my Facebook friends,

Artists and writers

People from every walk of life,

Displaying their work

Upon my Facebook page,

Such creative people

The salt of the earth,

Collected like gold coins

In a silk lined purse

By Gillian Sims


The little ships of Dunkirk, 1940


“The little boats of England
The little motor boats
The little penny steamers
From Lands End to John O’Groats
The Brighton Belle, the Margate Queen
The Vigilant, The Lark.
The Saucy Jane, The Gracie Fields
(Even a Noarh’s Arc)
Picked up their country’s message
That it’s back was to the Wall.
There is danger, there is danger,
Will you answer to the call?
Francis Drake, and Collinwood
And Nelson of the Nile
Were on their quarterdecks again
-You should have seen them smile
When all the little boats pushed out
From Dover to Dunkirk
To heed their country’s message
That was their job of work.”




Self-Ish (estranged from family) -Promote Yourself



Wishes and Dreams, – Promote Yourself


Poem about the Dunkirk Evacuation

The “Evacuation of Dunquecue) Dunkirk” was written by a member of the Enniskillen Fusillers, an Irish infantry regiment of the British Army, who participated in the evacuation. The author of the poem wrote it during his recuperation from the war.  It given to Iris Fewkes who it turn submitted it to Joyce Mills of Age Concern Library in Leicester, English.

Evacuation of Dunquecue (Dunkirk)

Withdrawal orders had just come through,
Where we were bound for no one knew,
As time past by we heard the talk,
Of our destination being the beach at Dunquecue.

For days and nights on the country wide,
The troops on foot fought side by side,
While on roads in one unending line,
The convoys race against father time.

Hedges and roadside we know its true,
Were strewn with guns and vehicles too,
But no one seemed to think of the loss or gain,
Their thoughts were one, to live and fight again.

The weary trek was oh! so long,
But the allied troops were still in song,
The thought of loved ones there at home,
Gave British tommies no want to roam.

A ruined mass was what we saw,
When at last we reached the Dunquecue Shore,
The blazing docks with their reddish light,
Give guide to see us thought the night,

But what a sight there was in store,
The boys in blue and ships galore,
The Air Force too did play their part
In the Epic of Dunquecue right from the start.

Herbert Read – ‘Ode: Written during the Battle of Dunkirk, May 1940′

“Sixteen years ago I built this house

By an oak on an acre of wild land…”

Herbert Read (1893-1968), anarchist poet, veteran of the 1st World War (he got a DSO and a MC), living in Norfolk during the Second World War, published a short collection of poems in 1944 under the title ‘A World Within a War’, the above lines taken from the title-poem. It is a time when every thought and action is “within a war” – even here in his idyllic countryside retreat. Read, born in Yorkshire, orphaned as a child, was, my research tells me, committed to the ‘people’s war’, the aim of which Evelyn Waugh said was to “direct the struggle for national survival into proletarian revolution”. He wrote theory on anarchism; was an art critic, championing Henry Moore and other modern artists; and co-founded the Institute of Contemporary Art as “an adult play-centre” and “a source of vitality and daring experiment”. Later in his life he accepted a very un-anarchist knighthood from the very un-anarchist Queen of England.


Written during the Battle of Dunkirk, May 1940

Time to Speak

Be Not Afraid



Be not afraid when in darkness,

For you shall see the light,

A light that is everlasting,

For it burns so very bright.


It burns when your heart is heavy,

It shines when you have lost all hope,

When your life has lost its sparkle,

At a time when you just can’t cope.


Be not afraid when in darkness,

For God will show you the way,

He will lift the gloom that surrounds you,

And keep all trouble at bay.


So next time you feel sad and lonely,

When you feel you have no way to turn,

Think of the glorious spirit that surrounds you,

Switch on the light let it burn.


Be not afraid when in darkness,

Let God be your partner and guide,

Accept the love he sends to protect you,

Hold his hand, as he walks by your side.


Let him fill your life with his spirit,

And strength to make a new start,

Then feel the power that is within you,

Now that you have let spirit into your heart.


Malcolm G Bradshaw

Barbeque Promote Yoursel


Solo By Gillian Sims








When your world is crashing around you,

When your head is in a mess,

When you take it out of your loved ones,

When you think you know beast.


When you want to hide away from life.

And blame everybody at fault,

When you feel out of control,

That’s when you need to call a halt.


My friend, you are heading for a breakdown,

For your life is out of control,

You need help to correct it,

Before it rips out your soul.


Don’t try to correct it yourself,

You need help from another source,

Allow your doctor to treat you,

So that you can get back on course.


For when you have had your treatment,

Those dark clouds will drift away,

You then will be back to normal,

You then will see the light of day.


Malcolm Bradshaw

The Air Guitar

EASTER ISLAND -Promote Yourself


Constructing sightless eyes no

    one will see

They toil;

Probing rock with human fingers

They grope;

One – minded their effort approaches


Years past witness human fingers to


Monuments remain to visit their labor;

Solemn stone faces looking out,

Pumice minds knowing an age of men

Possessing greatness long gone –

Deaf ears formed with stone axes,

Blood and sweat transformed

To monumental greatness;

Waiting on Easter Island .

Walt Trizna

I wrote a poem about these feelings, and it was published in 1975.  The poem was published in the anthology, Best Poets of the 20th Century (another magnificent title and an awesome stretch), by Winston – Paramount Books, edited by B. Winston – Paramount .


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