In far off days the branch lines ran, that joined up country hamlets,
And steam trains puffed their way, around the English countryside;
Milk trains in the mornings stopped at every village station,
Each one adorned with flowering plants, a countryside oblation,
When Dr Beeching’s Axe it fell, the little branch lines closed,
And silence reigned along miles of tracks, their cargo filled the roads,
Nature then took over, the cuttings filled with flowers,
Birds nested under bridges and perched on signal towers,
Foxes raced down rail tracks their cubs in close pursuit,
Whilst saplings grew along the tracks with intertwining roots,
A maze of bramble fortified, these secret silent places,
Whilst willow herb encroached, all deserted desolate places.,
So thus it was, for many years, ignored by busy man,
But some then saw the potential, of where the tracks once ran,
Once cleared of all the railway tracks, and metaled paths created,
The hiker and the rider saw human travel reinstated,
So people now can roam at will, down historic railway lines,
And enjoy the joyful freedom from their urban life confines.
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my covid garden

Sitting in my garden during the corvid pandemic I was moved to write this verse.

My Corvid Garden

I look up into a clear blue sky, no vapour trails do I espy,
No Traffic Noise as I sit, within my garden’s calm ambit,
Birdsong from surrounding trees, drifts along on gentle breeze,
I revel in this tranquil scene, whilst Iris stand tall, serene,
Nearly tees sway in time, Maple, Holly, new planted Lime,
Rose buds wait to burst into flower, leaves dappled from a morning shower,
Rosemary, Chives and Thyme, grow side by side beneath the Lime,
I sit in this tranquil haven, whilst on the bird bath sits a Raven,
I feel far away from Corvids harm, safe, secure and quietly calm.

© Ted Morgan May 2020
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What Makes the basis of a relationship is often asked by some,
Love is a special bond that people write upon,
But other things are valid when two people tie the knot,
And are just as important so should never be forgot,
Trust is oh so special, between each person in the bond,
And honesty between the pair should be the aim lifelong,
Acceptances of their differences, they should never try to change,
Accept them with their faults don’t try to re arrange,
Be loyal to each other no matter what life throws at you,
And support them in the bad times with the love that they are due,
Best friends they should always be with all the joy it brings,
And travel down the path of life accepting all these things.

© Ted Morgan may 2020
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April Muse

Shafts of sunlight, April showers, birds arrive from foreign climes,
Nests are built and birds are singing, defending territories they have gained,
Tress in blossom leaves returning, skeletal winters garb transformed,
Daffodils ‘neath trees in blossom, yellow trumpets everywhere
Heralding the bluebell carpets that will adorn the forests floor,
Days they lengthen, sunlight dazzles, nights from frosty slumber wakes,
Plants burst forth from winter’s grasp, with shoots emerging from the earth,
Natures never changing pattern tis the season of rebirth,
So, April is the month that heralds the dawn of a new year’s birth,
When nature’s new beginnings, bring such joy to mother earth.

© Ted Morgan April 2020
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Mum’s School

I’ve got myself a new job, thanks to covid 19,
The kids have come home from their schools,
And lots of books and papers I have seen,
It seems that I have graduated from teacher training school,
And I did not even realise my job switch was so cool,
I looked at all the lessons that my wards to me presented,
But teaching in a class from mum, was at times resented,
My addled brain I know was stressed, and thinking was contorted,
As my daring little charges, tried to get mums school aborted,
But I remembered how it was, when I went to school,
And laid down to my children, “Mum’s classic golden rules,”
Sit quietly and speak only when your Mum speaks to you,
And if you don’t do as she says, your playtime has gone too.
Tablet Time restricted if work is not done right,
And you “electronic dummy” tablets will be banned from you tonight
Its no use saying that “Miss”, at school does not do that,
When Mums “in charge” she will not tolerate, this kind of rebellious spat,
How long this situation will last, I really could not say,
But summer holidays are on hold, if “ball” they do not play!

© Ted Morgan March 2020.

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mothering sunday

Its Mothering Sunday but no Mum is near,
To straighten tie or brush our hair,
For years ago she was called to rest,
A special Mum who I thought the best,
Its days like this that we recall
Those special traits which helped us all,
The patience, calm and loving smile,
The look that would at once beguile,
If we were anguished and afraid
She calmed our fears and made us brave,
Oh how I wish that she could see
That frightened child that used to be,
But by words and guidance we now display
The influences we espouse today
Our thanks to all the mums out there,
Who raised us all with kindness and care,
And let us hope that we do the same,
For our children who bear our name.
© Ted Morgan
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Ode to COVID19

There is a menace all around that stalks us night and day,
The fear of it is palpable and causes some dismay,
In crowded rooms it stalks its prey, we do not know its there,
For the virus that is the cause, it really does not care,,
Too late when we see the signs, of cough and running nose,
Or else are burdened with a head that throbs with no repose,
No shaking hands or friendly hugs when friends we greet on meeting,
Our distance we must always keep for fear of mass infecting,
So, wash your hands be vigilant, or be self-isolating,
And hibernate for fourteen days, and please dear friends no cheating.
©Ted Morgan March 2020
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The darkness descended,
The candle flame shone bright,
A flame of light and remembrance
Illuminating the people gathered round,
The wax candle itself represents the millions slaughtered,
The melting wax the tears of the bereaved,
The wick our unending promise never to forget.

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Cinema of Yesteryear

I remember when the cinemas lined every city street,
The Lido and the Odeon, Arcadia and the Grand,
The commissionaire was stood outside, in peaked hat and big greatcoat,
Though what exactly was his job? he very rarely spoke,
The films they changed every week, and people went in droves,
Few houses had a T.V. and ‘twas of the “Flicks” you spoke,
There was always two showings the first and second house,
But you could always sit through both as they did not throw you out,
A newsreel started the show, then cartoon and B Movie,
Then a break as Ice Cream Lady sold us Lions Maid, alas not cups of tea,
The big Movie was then shown with Hollywood stars galore,
No wide screen then, but technicolour made us shout for more,
At the end of the screening a union flag was shown,
We all stood still for “The Queen” then quietly left the show,
Saturday Mornings was the kids shows, ABC Minors to the fore,
Hopalong Cassady and Roy Rogers, were favourites in days of yore,
The cowboys and Indians ensured we had plenty of games to play,
The cinema of yesteryear so unlike today.
© Ted Morgan Feb 2020

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Smartphone Zombie

Walking down the street one day I spied an apparition,
For a man appeared in a daze, with no sign of inhibition,
His concentration total, of surroundings unaware,
His eyes were on his smartphone screen, as though in silent prayer,
Cars and people passed him, not a flicker of recognition,
His steps were slow and measured as though on a secret mission,
He is a modern Zombie, in towns they do abound,
Tripping up on pavements, hitting lampposts does astound,
This is a modern phenomenon brought on by smartphone tech,
Peoples desire to keep updated, needs to be kept in check,

© Ted Morgan Feb 2020

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