Quiet reflections.

Now I am alone, with no-one else to hear

I can listen to myself, without the slightest fear

That my words can be mistaken, or considered rude

My thoughts, however frank, will not be misconstrued.

So in this quiet moment, let me my conscience call,

Let us assess together, those myths and stories tall,

Which divide my common sense, from what my friends may say

And should I be myself, or be held in their sway.

If what we do together, is for the common good,

Then I’ll have no objection, and in fact I should

Have the courage of conviction and those things acclaim.

Together, or alone, I should feel no shame.

If my conscience tells me, or in my heart, I know it’s wrong

Then please may I have the courage, to say I won’t prolong

Some action, that my friends believe, is what we all should do,

When it’s not, for the good of all, but benefits the few.

George Potter

Looking back.

History is a record of all past events

So continually adjusting, as ‘now’ becomes ‘before’

So can we conceive, what future minds will say

Of our own experience, in future ‘Days of Yore’?

Elizabeth the Faithful, as she may well be known

Left her realm to Charles, her Son, amid her subjects tears,

Aged Ninety-Six, well beyond the three-score-ten allowed,

But she reigned, unblemished, for all those seventy years.

The whole World admired, this calm devoted Soul

While many of her Subjects, watched the funeral scene,

With television bringing near, the details of her life

While others strove in person to respect their Queen.

But behind the detail, of Royal duty being done,

Was a loving mother who, despite her regal name,

Leader of the Commonwealth and other States beside

Gave love to her children and country, just the same.

Future generations will see this Kingship change

Some may know King William, and then his son and heir

But first our King, Charles, will hold the regal rein

To guide the country forward, in Democracy fair.

Will Sovereignties survive? Republics have their place

But ours has survived historic pain.

Other lands may try a presidential route

And find, too late, they lose more, than they gain.

George Potter

Conservative Leader election

THE KING IS DEAD! LONG LIVE THE KING!

A phrase both ironic and true

Now Boris is gone, it has a new ring

As we seek just one, from a few.

What a laugh, what a joke, as the candidates seek

To show off, with clichés so bland

Not for us, the inhabitants, we are the sheep

To be told what is good for our land.

Just the MPs, will study their charms

Listening to each misguided word

Then by a quick vote, suppress their alarms,

And continue this process absurd.

Wow! now we come towards the last throw,

To the Party they pass their control,

Let’s rely on True Blues, ‘in the Country, y’know!’

‘Cos they could not score an own goal!

Sadly, I fear, the best won’t be seen

As good candidates have been kicked aside

We need a new leader, not another has been

Going for the ‘Prime Minister Ride’.

George Potter

Where are we going?


Each day, we read, how we’re, so smart
We invent and make more things,
So if we are, let’s play our part,
Make sure the work no evil brings.
Progress is the general call,
Most has a value true,
But equally our minds can be
Blinded by the selfish view.
Again it seems self-centred greed
Towards disaster leads,
The Earth is warming, by and by,
We’ll ‘bite the hand that feeds’.
Each one can make a difference,
There is no time to spare
It’s for our children’s children
That we should now show care.
George Potter

What did I see?


When we say “I saw it!”,
Perhaps we ought to say,
We glanced at an image
Before we looked away.
When you draw you really look,
The right shape to define
And so with Nature, really look
The great beauty there to find.
So in your Explorations,
Look underneath the stone,
In between the grasses
For they are not alone
Hundreds of little creatures
Each with a life complete
Are there to be discovered
Beneath your giant feet!
Then you will have really seen,
Nature, for you, unfurled
So take your friend along next time
To share the Wonders of our World.
George Potter

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
Reaction to a problem, relies on 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)