With deep regret.

Once again we mourn, the loss of a great soul
Whose unselfish life was ended, by a selfish devotee
Unknown, his motivation, or his intended goal,
But by his mindless violence, he killed a great MP.

These belated words, just describe the great frustration.
Of those who write, too late, their superficial lines
Knowing, those who really need, their thoughtful explanation
Are those who never read, or learn the message of our times.

How do we stem the actions of a misguided mind?
How do we determine, where such danger lies?
In truth, we can but encourage, so others do not find
To resolve their problems, their choice is using knives.

George Potter

What is Woke?

I have to admit, as a very old bloke
I do not understand what is meant by ‘woke’,
Seems to me, it confuses, what is just common sense,
With misguided thoughts and the strangest pretence,
That history can be, by vandals erased
Humanitarians, too, cease to be praised
If not supported by the self-centred Few
Who claim a right, to tell us what to do
When in fact, what they do is nothing more
Than foment more division, and that, I deplore.

George Potter

Each of us matters.

We are not responsible, for decisions that were made_
In olden times, before most of us were born.
Such mistakes are more clearly seen, by the conscience of today
But then, a Nation’s actions, obeyed a different norm.

I will not make excuses for injustice done,
By those who, for selfish reasons, ignored humanity
But let us not, with hindsight, react intemperately
For only ‘Understanding’ will give foresight to see.

But I am, in part, responsible, to find a better way
Sadly those who suffered, will not, by our protests gain,
For selfishness still creates the troubles of today,
We must learn, now, to avoid creating further pain.

Pulling down the statues, posing on bended knee,
Does nothing more, than separate, those who, without pretence
Co-operate with willingness, to find a better way,
Seeking conflict resolution, not selfish recompense.

All lives matter, black, white and mixtures in between
Beliefs, are too, a stumbling block, where arguments abound
But if we start with friendship, without the prejudice,
Acceptance of variety, is more likely to be found.

George Potter

A few sweet thoughts

I’ll tell you a tale of a special week

When no-one could ever be sour

The kitchen was full of sugar and spice

And caramel smells by the hour

Everyone shared the joy of the sweet_

Classes entered and left in great streams

Christmas puddings, Nut parcels, ever so rich

With stuffed dates and Peppermint Creams.

We ran into each other, like cars in a jam

So we made up some sweet Traffic Lights

The delicious Truffles, that could have caused scuffles

(But in Sweetness, there cannot be fights.)

Sticky and gooey, we stirred and we mixed

Concoctions that then would not budge

Marzipan Fruit, (not so good for your suit)

And lovely, choc- chocolate Fudge.

Thanks to our Teacher, who held sticky hands,

And led us through Coconut Ice,

What a delight of lovely temptations!

Do you think, I could have, one more slice?

                                    George Potter

The Young Visitor

Bell rings, door opens, no “Hallo!” or, “By your leave!”
Passing through the hallway, wipes her nose upon her sleeve,
Through the open kitchen – she quickly found the way,
To where she knows the toys are. She settles down to play.

At Two, (do we remember?), the World was great indeed,
Plenty of love and lots of food, no-one mentioned greed!
Mostly, she gets her way, and who really wants to stop her?
The ‘tenants’ in her house today, are just Nan and Poppa.

Playing, eating, drinking, then some more of each,
(What a shame the biscuits are still beyond my reach)
“What about a sleep now?” Oh!, Never! Dear me, no!
I’ve only just arrived and soon I’ll have to go.

I’m not one for wasting, the good times when they come
And now I welcome Mummy, who’s come to take me home
So, just a wave to say goodbye, (They’ll put the toys away)
“Just make sure you’re in, next time I want to play!”

George Potter (Poppa)

The Visitor

This visitor is always near, waiting to be heard,

Not always too apparent, but each considered word,

That he, or she, would like to say, in a moment calm,

Will probably, if listened to, save each of us from harm.

This visitor is not alone, we have one by our side,

And so do Politicians and Presidents beside,

Even warring Generals, the Rich, the Poor, the Weak,

Can have this Sage, for nothing, if we just let it speak.

This visitor is Common Sense, so there is no surprise,

Its messages are simple, but full of logic wise,

Why do we then struggle, to avoid stupid mistakes?

When listening to this Visitor, is really all it takes.

George Potter

Each of us matters.

We were not responsible, for decisions that were made_

In olden times, before most of us were born.

Such mistakes are more clearly seen, by the conscience of today

But then, a Nation’s actions, obeyed a different norm.

I will not make excuses, for injustice done,

By those who, for selfish reasons, ignored humanity

But let us not, with hindsight, react intemperately

For only ‘Understanding’ will give foresight to see.

But I am, in part, responsible, to find a better way,

Sadly those who suffered, will not by our protests gain,

For selfishness still creates the troubles of today,

We must learn, now, to avoid creating further pain.

Pulling down the statues, posing on bended knee,

Does nothing more, than separate, those who, without pretence 

Co-operate with willingness, to find a better way, 

Seeking conflict resolution, not selfish recompense.

All lives matter, black, white and mixtures in between

Beliefs, are too, a stumbling block, where arguments abound

But if we start with friendship, without the prejudice,

Acceptance of variety, is more likely to be found.

George Potter

The Venus Trap

Written to support Rachel, who has a blog for Nature lovers. Visit Naturetableexplorer.blog

Oh Flies, beware, the Venus Trap, so versatile is she,
Her ever open, scented cups, are beautiful to see.
But hidden in their fond embrace, are trigger hairs that sense
Any careless insect, that ventures to her scents.

When lo, in seconds split, the trap well laid, is sprung
The plant consumes the insect, whether old or young,
Then later, after time well spent, absorbing all the food,
It opens up its leaves again, for in Nature ‘Greed ain’t rude’,


Just the best way to survive, is by taking every chance,
But don’t leave your fingers, in these carni-vor-ous plants!
George Potter

Don’t Do It yourself

or ‘How one can bite of more than one can chew!’

“It’s time for a change! The loo needs a refit
The tiles are disgraceful, the basin’s a pit,
The boys are careless, (aimless the word)
A hygenic room, don’t be absurd!”

So out with the basin, a new one arrives,
Chromium tapped, perfectly sized,
But the rad’s in the way, so now it must go
So drain the whole system! “Get on with the show!”

New Cardene floor, and back goes the loo,
“Let’s have a new towel rail”, with dimensions new,
Now the pipes are not right, must be shifted to fit
So drain the whole system! Frustrated? – a bit!

All reconnected, with chromium pipe
From a distance, indeed, it seemed to be right
But sit on the ‘seat’, and all that one saw,
Was chromium pipes, from ceiling to floor,

So drain the whole system, (that’s three times, I think)
Re-route the tubing, (it looks like a sink)
“So hide it, my Love, behind tiling clean”,
Satisfaction, at last, and the outlook, serene.

Looking back, I wonder, just how it began
I started a calm, well balanced man,
“Do it yourself, is the way to survive”
How come, then, the ‘men in white coats’ arrive?

George Potter

Mutants


I thought Corona virus caused a failure of the lung
Or so the experts told us, (though in bats begun)
But now it has mutated, as some, unbelievably, pursue
A brainless selfish pattern, which the empty shelves, prove true.


In olden days the pirates, chased their love of gold,
Sailing off to pillage, the richer lands of old,
But now it is just pasta, with toilet rolls to boot
Which gauge the pirates’ grey cells, in their choice of loot.


Perhaps in times to come, when these storms subside,
These stupid selfish people, will themselves deride,
As their weaker neighbours, who, remaining proud,
Lost their chance of livelihood, behind this manic crowd.
George Potter