Ken Mills
Poet
Ken, a respite care patient at Danesbury Home, Welwyn, is a prolific writer and we are pleased to show some of his poems here.
Peel me a grape
Peel me a grape, wish me a star.
I’m so sad we are parted; I should be where you are.
As I look to the heavens, I can still see your face.
Why did you leave me, alone, in this place!
I need you beside me; I’m at a loss where to go.
Why must I keep going, must I keep up this show?
Ink spots
Ink spots on the paper, with words all freshly dried.
Is this all going to be a serious one; has someone up and died?
Or will the words be soft and silly, or words that spin a yarn?
Of creatures in the bushes; or cows and sheep out on the farm.
Maybe I will talk about the weather, a subject we English love.
Of clouds up in the heavens; with no thoughts of push and shove.
Of leaves so softly dropping, then pushed along by the breeze.
I guess winter must be coming, soon time to cough and sneeze.
Is nothing still growing, are there no flowers on display?
This weather has started turning, it’s another awful day!
Wait a minute can I see bulbs peeping, reaching for the light?
Maybe some things are still stirring, against this winters might.
I must try to keep smiling, there is always something new.
When the suns up in the morning, there’s always morning dew.
There are still some birds about, even the pheasants are back.
You can still go on walk about; you’ll just have to wear your Mac.
Did we get it wrong?
Why do things have to change? Must we move along?
What is happening to the tune sheet? Did we get it wrong?
Is money always right and must we use the space?
This rush to fill the green bits, has life become a race?
Those with lots of money; they don’t fill their lives with bricks!!
They leave it all to bureaucrats, to fulfil their nasty tricks.
I know we all need somewhere, to pitch and raise our tent!!
But that will not help everyone, when the money’s all been spent!
Life will become a prison; with no room to stretch our legs!!
We might as well fit into boxes now, no point to strain the dregs!!
Note, these poems are © copyright, Ken Mills