Memories (Valentines Day 2015)

The years are adding up, the
days and months they march on by 
My memory sometimes fails me, I forget, although I try 
To recall all the details of the happy years we've spent.
Shared history crafted side by side 
How much it all has meant.

But now my memory's rubbish, I think it's fair to say
So just as well technology stepped in to save the day.
These days we store our memories in MyCloud, from cameras smart
But trust me ...

... all the dearest are held safe within my heart.

Happy Valentines Day



Sent from the iPhone of
Rachel Butt

Cracking (Feb 2015)

Once so altogether
So steady, all was fine
Till first it was a painful hip
Then waking all the time
Now under-wiring set aside
To minimise the ache
Underarm, and elsewhere
How much fear new pain can make.
Irrational, emotional
An outburst here and there 
Confused by melancholia,
Dry skin and brittle hair
A raging thirst, a burning throat
Symptom search at 2am
Wide awake yet shattered
To the bathroom yet again
Overwhelming tiredness
In the middle of the day
A wave of heat then shivers 
All the things they didn't say
Excessive perspiration 
Insomnia and tears
Indecision, apathy
Worrying and fears
Feeling old and cranky
A catalogue of woe
Places hurt that didn't 
Just a few short months ago
Will I ever get me back again?
Cracking up like fragile glass
Adjustment, hopes he'll suffer me
Till this painful 'pause' will pass.







Sent from the iPhone of
Rachel Butt

Poem for Polly 2015

Last year, when I was little,
I slept tucked up in my cot
But now I have a big bed
Cos a baby I am not.

And before, when I was small,
I needed help to eat my tea
But now I manage by myself
Cos now, you see, I'm three!

When Mummy counts to twenty
To make my milk warm up
I run and make the microwave
Go ping, and fetch my cup.

I can dress myself, do socks and shoes
And now I've got new sandals 
But things with zips and buttons 
Well, they're trickier to handle.

I can kick a ball and hop and climb
And trampoline and run 
But when Daddy makes the swing go high
That's really, REALLY fun.

I might dress up as a pirate
Wear a crown, or veil or wig
And sometimes I'm a superhero
Now that I am big.

When the phone rings Mummy lets me say 
'Hello' and 'How are you?'
And I know how to 'pooter 
To Skype my Grandad too.

Sometimes I go swimming
And I love it at Soft Play
And the lady plays guitar and sings
On Rock-a-billy day.

I know all the bear necessities
And that the Grinch has feelings
And when Uncle Albert giggles 
He has tea up on the ceiling.

I'm getting really brave now 
I blow bubbles in my bath
With my face under the water.
It makes everybody laugh.

My friends are Niall and Harry
(They're the boys who live next door)
And there's Ishmael and Elijah.
Tilly too (she's nearly four!)

But even though I'm big 
I like a cuddle with my Mummy
Especially when I'm tired
Or there's a poorly in my tummy.

Now I'm getting so grown up
I soon won't wear a nappy
Cos I'll wee wee in the toilet.
That will really make me happy.

I'm such a busy bee
There's just no time to tell you more.
So bye for now, till next year
By which time I will be four! 






















Sent from the iPhone of
Rachel Butt

Polly Strides Fourth

Oh my word! What a difference a year makes

Now Polly’s a toddler no more

Twelve months of exciting development

And suddenly, here she is, FOUR!

 

What’s new? Well, there’s ‘school’ for a start off

“Not Nursery, Grandad!” she’ll say.

Five mornings, took time to get used to

But soon she would skip all the way

 

Gone are the locks on the cupboards

(Except that one, under the sink!)

And out came the strong personality

“Blue’s for boys! I want that one, that’s pink”

 

For a while you’d think she was the teacher

When trying to read her a book

For whilst Polly would precis from memory

She’d hold it and point and say “Look!”

 

Hair washing is less of a trauma

The shower head gets the job done

And now that those nappies are history (hooray!)

Going swimming is so much more fun.

 

One day, on a whim, Daddy bought her

Her first big girl’s bike, “with small wheels”

But the one with no pedals’ the favourite

She’ll shoot off, whilst we run at her heels

 

Her best friend is called Arabella

They seem to be joined at the hip.

In fact the connection’s so startling

Mummy says they could come from one pip!

 

This year saw the dawn of Despicables,

Scooby Doo and the Minions and more

And play time is dress-up and role play.

‘magination has moved to the fore.

 

She’s got costumes, hair pieces and slippers

And nighties and everything ‘snow’

All featuring Ana and Elsa

And I can’t see her ‘letting them go’

 

Since last year we lost David Bowie

And Mummy was sad, wasn’t she?

So she taught you the words to some old songs

Like the gnome, who would laugh – hee hee hee.

There are signs of a bright little mind there

She’s sharp as a tack. What she’ll do

Is say, “Hmm, let me think about that then”

When asked if she’ll try something new.

 

She’ll help Daddy out in the garden

And it seems that when Mummymust do

All her series of hip and leg stretches

Then Polly will ‘physio’ too.

 

Just occasionally Polly’s so grown up

You might wonder quite who is the boss

“D’ya know? Mummy won’t do what I ask her!”

Well ‘Someone’ was quite at a loss!

 

She’s one of a kind that’s for certain

Keeps us busy and feeling alive

And here’s looking ahead to the next year

Now Polly is marching on FIVE.