EDITOR'S CHOICE NEWS Keegan reveals name for £100m hospital Public's views needed as vision for town unveiled PM pays tribute to NHS 100 jobs to go at NHS prescription division FILM REVIEWS The Mist (15) Kung Fu Panda (PG) NEWS IN VIDEO Plane named in Keegan's honour Hartlepool bus crash victim hands over fundraising cheque to air ambulance Newcastle's new signing - they call him spiderman and here's why... Rocket to the Toon RACING PODCAST Racing tips and reports with Graham Orange of Go Racing FORMULA 1 News and Race Reports F1 Blog Circuit Guide Predictions THE HEADLINE GAME * Pit your wits against The Northern Echo and TFM in The Headline Game GET OUR NEWS BY E-MAIL Just register

Most read Comments 1 Elton John: let's have some more 2 'Fishing to blame' as dolphin deaths soar 3 Man rescued in bridge drama 4 Shopkeeper threatened with hammer 5 Man charged with attempted murder 6 "Scare tactics" claim over pay dispute 7 £860,000 for dental care 8 Children questioned over slaughter of 100 animals 9 Three charged following social club stabbing 10 Sir Elton has 'em rocking at the arena Today | 7 Days 1 Sir Elton has 'em rocking at the arena 2 1066 and all that 3 Villagers pledge to fight plan for second wind turbine site 4 Tragic teen forced to drink petrol and set alight 5 Park and ride scheme plans hit the brakes 6 Children questioned over slaughter of 100 animals 7 Elton John: Viv Hardwick's review 8 Council defeated in court windfarm bid 9 European Union 10 Elton John in concert coup for Darlington

Comment

PIE IN THE SKY

Women think most men were born in a barn.

They leave their cupboard doors open wide.

You can see their shirts, pullovers, socks and pants all stacked neatly inside.

One goes in discreetly and closes the door, Hoping they won't do it anymore.

Going in later to do our chores,

we're greeted by cupboards with wide open doors.

Will it ever sink into their brains,

you open the door to get your shirt out, then you close it again.

But it's like pie in the sky,

so we get on with the job and give a big sigh.

It's the same going into our utility room

to collect hoovers, dusters and brooms.

Drawers open, things on the floor,

there's hardly room for anything more.

Shelves stacked to capacity with unwanted things, discarded boxes on the ground

and everything else just lying around.

Will it ever sink into their brains that everything has it's own place.

Instead of just putting things wherever they find a space?

But we know it's just pie in the sky,

we're not tidying that room. We won't even try.

Diana Davis, Witton-le-Wear

FREE AS A BIRD

The birds are pecking at the slice of bread,

I've nailed it firmly to my garden shed,

To them it's precious manna from on high,

I will not let them starve, nor let them die.

They squabble over crumbs, they do not know,

That soon they will be squabbling in the snow,

Not just for bread, but for the bacon rind,

These birds are friends, to them I must be kind.

Some other birds I watch on Beadnell's beach,

These birds, the seagulls, soar beyond my reach,

Then downwards to the sea they plunge for fish,

For them the herring makes a tasty dish.

They fly above the sea, the sunlit sand, Then on the moss-green rocks they gently land,

Sometimes they search the harbour wall for bread,

From human hands they choose not to be fed.

Here on the shore in solitude I stand,

For from the city's noise, a different land,

Free from the prison made by strain and stress,

Calm sea, birds' cries, and nature's loveliness.

Rev John Stephenson, Sunderland

HEAT'S COLOURS

Heat paints patterns, shadows, shades on our backs,

Want to walk, trace the daisy chain, buttercup gleam

Meadow sweet petals, in fields of grass,

Want to go to ease, to shades of sunshine,

But lack the energy,

To race forward,

To grace - in an empty space,

While flower heads shake pollen, dust the afternoon

Alison Carr, Bishop Auckland

SHE'S LEAVING

The sun's been lost, the moon's always high

Faces are blank on the poeple passing by

They don't even glance, they're all so remote

They don't even see her in the dark by the boat

The sailors make ready, everything's made right

They'll sail so quiet on the stroke of midnight

The band sit silent, not playing a note

She's going with the stranger tonight by boat

There's people still drinking in a pub on the dock

Even though it says five to midnight on the clock

She said that she loved me, well that's what she wrote

But she's leaving with the stranger tonight by boat

The anchor is lifted, the boat starts to sway

The ropes cast off, it's slipping away

I can see her in the shadow in a long fur coat

Standing with the stranger on the deck of the boat

It's like she can see me, I even give a wave

As I get that feeling someone has walked over my grave

As high off the water you ghostly float

Clinging to the stranger by the rail of the boat.

David Mitchell, Bowburn, Co Durham

A WINTER'S DAY

It's snowing outside, light the coal fire

Whip it up higher and higher

Soon we are roasting our toes

That is our desire.

No work will be done this day

With all that heat

It makes you sleep

Sure is a treat

What matters, we'll work tomorrow

Toot-sweet.

Elizabeth Sayers, Spennymoor

MY DREAM

I dream to get on a space craft And fly up into space.

I'd love to float around, In that starry sort of place.

I dream to fly around And on the moon to land.

I'd love to walk on the surface And collect moon sand.

I dream to go back home And tell everyone where I've been,

I'd love to do that Because that is my dream.

Jenny Harnett, aged 11, Fishburn,

Co Durham

SHARED THOUGHTS

On the clean crisp roll of the ocean's wave

Many dreams have passed us by

For we can stand and lose ourselves as the

magnificent waters cry.

Echos of past and thoughts for the future,

In dreams we make our plans,

Wild is her heart yet looking in,

She seems to cold and dark,

Rolling over and over, her roar is plenty

drawing back

From the shore line she leaves so empty,

Clawing and thrashing with enormous extent,

She shows strength within her size,

Venting her anger she shares her rage

Yet peaceful and tranquil she may lie,

Crawling like millions of nimble fingers,

Gently reaching out to pass by,

Sometimes you can see the reflection

Of the great big, vast, blue sky,

Never underestimate her for sharing her feelings,

It's not something she just puts on show,

For there's a reason beyond her control.

Alison Richardson, Tursdale, Co Durham

9:20am Tuesday 4th March 2008

Print

Email this

Comment

Add your comment

Name:
Email: *
Location:
**
	e.g. 123-123
Comment: Please note: All HTML tags will be ignored. Format Text:
By posting a comment, I confirm that I have read and agree to the terms of use. Comments are not moderated but we will react if anything that breaks the rules comes to our attention and we may delete inappropriate postings. Please treat other people with respect. You must not post anything that is abusive, indecent, unlawful or defamatory. Remember, you are personally liable for what you post on this site. If you wish to complain about a comment, contact us here.
* Your email address will not be displayed ** To avoid register now or login