September 21, 2019

The Publisher speaks: Togetherness is one reason I write poems

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By Joan Wilson

Joan E. Wilson

Every night when I watch World News via the BBC and ABC, I am horrified at what I see and hear. I say to Colin, “Not one good peace of news”.

He always tells me to wait as both networks nearly always place one tiny tit bit of “heartwarming” news to finish with.

Is 95% of the news we read and watch all bad? O course it’s not. I see more good deeds every day I live than bad ones and I’m sure it’s the same with you. The powers in the media have all the statistics to prove people want sensational stories, the nice news ones are boring. Therefore, not newsworthy.

Perhaps that is “Why I Write Poems For You” and also why I believe there’s nothing as nice as “Togetherness”.

Why I Write Poems for you………

By Joan (Watler) Wilson

*

I find writing poems good for one’s ego

Once I get started I just can’t let go

Even though sometimes it’s really tough going

Most of the time my thoughts are flowing.

*

But if I really think deep and concentrate

I can produce words at a pretty fast rate

Words that maybe tell a story

Or words that mean nothing produced in a hurry.

*

But when I write especially for you

They’re full of love even though lines are few

And the time taken to write them is too brief

But it’s what they mean – that’s my belief.

*

TOGETHERNESS

By Joan (Watler) Wilson

*

There’s nothing as nice as togetherness

With friends we hold so dear

To share one’s delights or problems

And to show each other we care.

*

A look, a touch gives one a feeling of belonging.

*

But in these days of rush and never stop

We pass each other on the street or in a shop

‘Hello – how are you’ is all we have time to say

Too rushed – we’ve got to get away.

*

To what? A traffic jam, the office or where?

Surely we should have a moment to spare.

*

Maybe in our home we’ll have a cup of tea

I don’t know though we’ll have to wait and see

Wait? But time waits on no one I’m told

So make time for each other before you’re too old.

END

Both poems from “Buried Treasures of Cayman – My Memories”

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