February 22, 2010 (From The Northern Echo)

February 22, 2010

11:58am Monday 22nd February 2010 in

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THE HOT HOUSE

Maudie had a hot house,

It was her pride and joy

The only one still standing

In the gardens of Malloy.

All the other glass houses

Had a visit from Thomas Roy

They had been quite smashed to bits

By this evil little boy.

Breaking glass, not his only vice

He stole the contents too

Selling the fruits around the doors

And even eating a few.

It’s not his fault, do-gooder’s said

He doesn’t know better,

His father left when he was born

His mother, no one’s met her.

The police could do so little

Him being only nine

So Maudie sat and pondered

What to do about this swine.

After great consideration,

She came up with a plan

If it worked she’d keep her hot house,

And Thomas Roy would never be a man.

After a brief interrogation,

The police could only say

It had been a dreadful accident

And Maudie went on her way

The jar had once held sherbert

But the label, now covered that

It said this is deadly poison

Designed to kill all rats.

Catherine Shaw, Leadgate, Consett

A WHITE WINTER AT LAST

Oh! hasn’t it been so delightful –

Has it not made your heart dance and sing,

To see the trees covered, in fine powdery snow;

And the ground all white, and glittering below.

It’s been a “Winter Wonderland” – Nature cast a magic spell,

She gave us a Christmas and New Year to remember;

And left us, with many a tale to tell.

The snow, can be very inconvenient –

Some, have twisted and moaned everyday,

But, let’s face it, it is only for a short while;

Before it all melts away.

Now you don’t hear the old folks grumble –

They learned how to cope, years ago,

Knowing how to use a shovel;

And “shanks’s pony”, wherever they go.

Now, I have loved every minute –

Just like winters of long, long ago;

Back to our days of childhood,

When winter – meant lots of snow.

Icicles, hanging from the rooftops –

Frosty pattern on some window panes;

Oh! how delighted I have been,

To see a real white winter again.

Mrs M Draper, Consett

A WINTER’S DAY BY THE SEA

The gulls were flying low

Across a pewter-coloured sea.

A reflection of the winter sky

No warming sun to feel

Children muffled up against the wind

Gloomily trailing along behind, no joke.

Wishing they were back home

Watching their TV and drinking Coke,

Too cold for an ice cream,

The fun palace is closed

They chant, let’s catch the next bus Mam,

Go home and warm our fingers and toes.

Elizabeth Sayers, Spennymoor