A Mother’s Love

One thing I have always been committed to is giving my children unconditional love. Loving them with all my heart absolutely without question through the good and bad times. I believe they each know that and I pray that they are uplifted by that because when that love is missing in a child’s life, or when love comes with conditions or is withheld or replaced with ostracism, or it’s benefaction is a consequence of a child fulfilling a parents request rather than being the bedrock of the relationship unconditionally, the fallout leaves an unfortunate legacy for a lifetime. For love is not a neatly packaged commodity that only comes out when everything goes well. True love weathers the storms and perseveres through thick and thin. It doesn’t barter. It doesn’t trick. It seeks truth and holds fast in sunshine and in rain.

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Warning!

I sit and watch parents
All doing their best
To bring up their children
So they don’t become pests
For they take them to this
And they take them to that
Take them swimming, to rugby
Let them swing cricket bat
They pay for their lessons
In music and more
Take them on holidays, to museums
To try and ensure
They have every opportunity
Are brought up to be
Availed of experiences
To furnish a, b and c

But midst all the doing
In the busy rushed mire
I spy little children
Who are exhausted and tired
But what I see too
Are kids who are not
Happy, relaxed
Contented with their lot!
And I spy through the mayhem
Kids who are bored
Who can’t be by themselves
Who are honestly floored
If they just aren’t kept busy
Aren’t “living the dream”
And I think to myself
Is this just what it seems

Is this right for these children
Is this really the best
Or is this the root of a problem
That’s yet not flown the nest
But is brooding for later
When all the chances are spent
And history sighs loudly
And condemns and resents
And looks back and wonders
What good did that do?
Was it really enjoyable?
Or do we now rue
The best for its badness
Options all burned out
As tomorrow’s adults are lost
And completely stressed out!

Academies – A Prophecy

A world is being built
Where baby factories
Otherwise known as parents
Will feed their products onto
The conveyor belts of education
In warehouses that were once schools
Where grades are the currency
And children are the commodities
Being traded on the floors
Of ‘academies’
And my heart bleeds
Rivers of lost childhood
Wasted creativity
Deprived opportunity
For those who don’t pass the test
Fit the mould 
For they will be spat out
And anaerobically digested
For further extortion
In a process that
Devalues individual potential

Do you know that there is no requirement for a school academy to have parents on its governing board! If you’ve got children who will still be in the system by 2020/22 you might like to consider what this means as the state leads the way in potentially selling off your children and their future in a world where you don’t have a say! 

 

 

 

Back To School

And so the scram is imminent
In the back to school shop hell
With kids all moaning in the aisles
As Mums and Dads all yell
At their sweet little Darlings
After the long summer break
In an attempt to kit them out
As school return’s at stake

And thus chaos ensues as
The holidays run out
Midst toil and strife and much to do
And racket as Mum shouts
At Dad who in turn rants a bit
At Jonny and at Sue
Less pity the poor shop keeper
In such hullabaloo

But when alls done and all is said
They’ll return scrubbed up great
In blazers hanging round their toes
And shoes shined up first rate
And hair cuts cropped; pencils sharpened
Looking their damnedest best
Whilst parents breathe a relieved sigh
And say ‘Give me a rest’

Parental Love

(All you need to bring up a child)

For all the facts and figures
The books and the insights
There’s only one thing that you need
To bring your kids up right
And that is love in plenty
Love like you would have wished
Your own would have endowed on you
The sort of love that’s dished
Up with no price tag on it
No onward cost or bill
That’s free and unconditional
That says I’ll love you til
I have no breath left in me
That goes to the moon and then
Comes back; that’s never ceasing
And does it all again

A love that isn’t hidden
Disguised in any form
Not wearing bribes or sweeteners
That’s given as a norm
A love that doesn’t measure
In school grades or elsewhere
A love that’s off the scale; that sits
Unselfishly out there
For such love’s omnipresent
Comes from deep in the heart
Does not control; manipulate
And never falls apart
Providing across the lifespan
On good and on bad days
A love that always shine right through
The clouds called Agape

A picture from our archives but an all time old favourite.

Stop The Parent Clones

Give your children freedom
Bequeath them autonomy
Encourage them to be themselves
And not a mini-me

For a parents job is not there to
Manipulate the mind
More so help children forge their own
Identity in kind

To help them grow their own ideas
Speak words that they alone
Have crafted independently
Not as a parent clone

And then our children will achieve
A sense of who THEY are
People in their own right who shine
Light from their own blessed star

Mum’s Taxi

Mum’s taxi’s on a midnight run
It hardly ever stops
Except to fill the tank with fuel
And when a child it drops
From dawn to dusk just driving
To here and there and back
But one thing is for certain sure
It won’t get fired or sacked

As down through all the ages
This taxi has been seen
Collecting, fetching, running round
In, out and between
A million destinations
For over and above
Mum’s taxi’s the best cab that goes
Across the miles with love

  

Parenting’s Bitter Pill

They stand in the street bickering

Remonstrating with tetchy brats

Sit incommunicado in the coffee house 

With sleepy children

Nagging, moaning, exhausted

Tired of each other’s company

Yet unable to catch a break

Wishing bedtime would arrive quickly

Desperate for their own space

Yet constrained by duty

Arguing over tomorrow’s schedules

Swimming lesson agendas

And they call this the best time of their life

When the children are young

For how time will fly

And I think …. for their sakes

And maybe mine as well

Thank God!

A Mother’s Son

One minute, he was a baby
A small, innocent child
The apple of my eye and more
So tender, meek and mild

And then before I knew it
He’d got to six foot three
A strapping, independent lad
Leaving nest and family

Venturing out to greener fields
To take the world by storm
Whilst finding out for himself what
Path will become his norm

Creating his life on his own
His choice and making too
A fiercely independent chap
Striding to pastures new

Yet in his wake my heartstrings
Stretching from Mum to boy
With built-in elasticity
Connection to employ

A dichotomy or paradox
Willing him to go far
Yet feeling twinges and the wrench
Emotions slightly charred

But also by the same token
Being proud from job well done
With joy and thrill that’s just saying
“Become a man my son.”

“Become a man and blend your life
Make footsteps in the sand
Ones of contentment; happiness
By which you will then stand”

“And be compassionate with grace
Upholding honour true
For boy now grown up; fledging flown
I will always love you!”