written and posted by members of Lancashire Dead Good Poets' Society

Friday, 28 August 2015

My Mum calls them "Gamps" ...... ;-)

12:04:00 Posted by Louise Barklam , , , , , , 1 comment
I've always loved the old style umbrella's, but then I'm a vintage kind of gal. I like parasols too and think it's a shame they died out fashion wise. I would much rather be pale and interesting than burnt. I think deep down, despite the day to day clothing of t-shirt, jeans and trainers, I am a Goth at heart. If you watch NCIS on the TV you will be familiar with the character of Abby. I love her style and she uses a lovely black lace parasol when it's sunny or when she attends a funeral. Due to the nature of the programme of course, she attends a fair few. Another thing I love ... NCIS.

Away from the small screen, my favourite way to relax is to sit in a dimly lit room (by candle or fire light) and listen to the rain on the window. Even better at my Mum's house, as she has a small conservatory style room on the back (which she calls "The Potting Shed"). The sound of the rain as it hits the roof is awesome! I love it!! The harder the downpour, the better. But then, I would say that wouldn't I? I am inside on a horrible day, nice and dry. I don't think I would feel the same if I was out in it!


Umbrella

Head bowed, shoulders hunched
collar upturned, grasped tight.
He moves through the town centre
searching
for shelter.
This is not his town ...
he is a newcomer
looking for a new start.
But, with no money
and nowhere to stay,
he walks the streets,
the good places already taken
by the natives.
He readjusts his rucksack
on his shoulder - 
the contents getting heavier
with the addition of rainwater;
those silver stair-rods
changing colour
depending on the neon behind,
glittering on his tired, weary eyes
as they watch ...
monitor for intruders.
Not just from the tutting shopkeepers
shooing him away from their doorways
denying him a temporary oasis,
or the pickpockets
who will take anything you've got ...
but the sting of steeley spokes
from a swarm of multi-coloured domes
bob, bob, bobbing
in time with the beat and thrum,
the ever onward drum,
of drops on the canopies
and hurried feet
carrying their owners home
or at least
away from the wet.
If only he had the luxury
of an umbrella ...
It would be some shelter at least;
instead, sodden toes
in sodden socks and shoes
trudge forward
carrying a wet man
in wet clothes
and the weight of a water filled world
upon his shoulders.


Thanks for reading. ;-) x

1 comments:

Christo said...

Hurrah !
Someone else who finds NCIS to be one of the most interesting and entertaining shows on TV.