Medicines

First there’s the syrup so bitter and pink,
That I have to take leaning over the sink,
For fear of spilling it down my dress,
And getting in trouble for making a mess.

And then for my skin there’s the creams and the lotion,
Which smell so awful I scream with emotion,
And yet to come are the tablets so huge,
They leave my throat feeling quite bruised.

There’s only one thing worse than taking a pill,
Can you guess?
That’s right, it’s feeling so ill!

There Are People Who Help

Photo of a garden ornament of people linking arms in a circle.

There are people who help
When you need it most,
When the chips are down
And you’re almost toast.

Who remind you that rest
And a cup of tea,
Are as vital as work
For the best you can be.

They remind you of just
How far you have come,
And make you feel proud
Of all that you’ve done.

They cheer when you win,
No matter how small,
And whenever you fail
They’re the ones who you call.

A shoulder to cry on
Or a hand to hold,
You’d do the same for them
Without being told.

You tell them your stories
And they make you laugh,
Though the jokes that they tell
Are really quite naff.

They love all that you are,
No need to pretend,
For these are the people
Who you can call friends.

The Problem

Poem on photo of balls of yarn.

I’ve a problem here,
Of the feline sort;
Your cat, my dear,
It’s she I caught,
Stealing the wool,
From my knitting bag.
(It used to be full,
But I don’t like to nag.)
If it could be returned,
When she’s done with it,
My thanks you’ll have earned,
As I’d quite like to knit.