Tipping Sheep (The Right Way)

22 Sunday Oct 2017

Posted by Worldly Winds in Children's poetry, Poetry

Tags

Alex Carr-Malcolm Tipping Sheep (the right way), Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm poet, poetry, sheep, Sheffield poet, Tipping Sheep (the right way), upside down sheep, Worldly Winds poetry

I’ve not shared this one in a while – A poem inspired by my son whilst he was on his Duke of Edinburgh Expedition many years ago!

Copies of the book are still available from me – £5 plus postage. Please email me if you would like a copy.

worldlywinds@mail.com

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With face of delight,

my son runs to me –

I’ve tipped up a sheep,

he shouted with glee.

My face drops with horror.

Well how could this be?

Am I the worst mother,

has he learned nothing from me?

“Calm down Mother!”

my son reassures.

“It’s not as you think,”

with derision he snorts.

“We walked in a field,

(in the group we were five,)

saw a sheep on its back,

with legs waving at sky.

It soon came apparent,

from what we could see,

that the sheep was so stuck,

‘twas a strange sight to see.

We tried hard to lift her,

but to no avail,

she was fat, wet, and smelly,

the weight of a whale.

Then out of the blue,

an idea did occur,

we spread out our groundsheet,

to roll her on there.

With one mighty tug,

we pulled the sheet up,

and the sheep it did tip,

(the right way up!)

So, off with a wobble,

and a, ‘baa,’ of delight,

the sheep she then trotted –

it was quite a sight!

So you see Mum, it’s true,

the things I did say,

we tipped up a sheep.”

(Thankfully – the right way!)

©Tipping Sheep (the right way) 2012

By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

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Sisterhood

10 Tuesday Oct 2017

Posted by Worldly Winds in Poetry

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Chesterfield, loss, memories, Sisterhood, St Helena Chesterfield, St Helena Girls school, Worldly Winds poetry

In memory of a good friend – 1 year today –

For all those that have gone too soon.

Six sisters sailed into the world,

wide eyed and Brodie primed,

each on a quest and unprepared,

Pioneers before their time.

Some went in search of a rare red rose,

and others, too soon, gone;

they failed to find their mustard seed,

that would take them safely home.

Watched over by St Helena,

throughout their autumn years,

past lives and loves, and trials above,

spring cherry blossom tears.

Procrustean lives, we onward strive,

to be the crème de la crème,

through all the tears and ebbing years,

we’d do it all again.

Decades gone as life moves on,

has it been for the greater good?

The Cardinal flight, with the Spire in sight,

where we seal our sisterhood.

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

The Waiting Room

19 Sunday Feb 2017

Posted by Worldly Winds in Deep Stuff!, Poetry, Sanity

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Dementia, hospitals, memories, old age, poetry

Eyeing up the empty seat,

she sat next to me,

a sweet little old lady.

She drew a breath, and talked non-stop.

My daughter-in-law says I’m nasty,

I’m not, I’m just proud.

She tells me about her childhood,

the blitz bomb that blew her fat aunt into the air,

one foot above her fireside chair.

My daughter-in-law says I’m evil.

How dare she, I’m just particular!

She tells me of her Airedale dog,

although, untaught, he did great tricks,

he’d eat with the cats, and begs when he sits.

My daughter-in-law says I’m a b-i-t-c-h.

I don’t like her much either.

She tells me of the girls and boys,

wartime friends, of climbing trees,

broken wrists, skinned arms, and knees.

My daughter-in-law says I’m cold and cruel.

I’m just stand offish.

Then she’s back in the present,

to the pigeon on the bird table.

Suddenly a Goshawk swooped and dived,

started to eat the pigeon alive,

I put it out of its misery.

Three kettles of boiling water poured –

upon the pigeon ‘til it was no more.

My daughter-in-law calls me names.

I don’t see them now.

Dementia apparent – she tunes in and out.

The Airedale put up a fight when backed into the oven,

it was probably the gas he could smell.

It had to be done – Oh well.

She sat next to me,

the old lady,

The nurse drew a breath and called her name.

The Waiting Room by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

19.02.17

Photo Credit: Waiting Room. Triangle Road, Hackney, London, 2011. Photograph: Stik

found on Pinterest.

Soldier On

28 Sunday Aug 2016

Posted by Worldly Winds in Daily life, Poetry

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, humour, man flu, poetry, soldier on, summer cold, writing, Yorkshire poet

Oh dear… I seem to have a summer cold! How does that happen? Only one thing for it – A Duvet Day! I thought I would share this golden oldie, it always makes me smile!

Farewell cruel world,

I’m leaving you,

it’s not a cold,

I’ve got the ‘flu.

It may well be,

my final breath,

my nose is red,

I feel like death.

Please don’t mourn,

when I am gone,

go on without me…

soldier on!

© Soldier On… 03.11.2012

By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Photo Credit : http://9laughs.com/go-on-without-me/

Coasting

12 Friday Aug 2016

Posted by Worldly Winds in childhood, Poetry

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, childhood, Mablethorpe, paddling, seaside, Skegness, sunburn, Yorkshire poet

East coast seaside

Miner’s Camp holiday

Knotted handkerchief

White bandana, surrender,

Vanilla seared skin

Kodak snap photo

Analogue embarrassment

Posterity, keep-sake?

Mother’s amusement.

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Cinnabar Wings

18 Monday Apr 2016

Posted by Worldly Winds in NaPoWriMo 2016, Poetry

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Cinnabar Wings, napowrimo, NaPoWriMo 2016, NaPoWriMo16, poetry, writing, Yorkshire poet

Cinnabar Wings

cinnabar wings

beating out

arrhythmic love

on a petrified heart

factional soul mates

behemoth burns

a cloying shadow

silhouetting souls

reflected, distorted

moth to the flame

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Circle Dance

17 Sunday Apr 2016

Posted by Worldly Winds in NaPoWriMo 2016, Poetry

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Circle Dance, napowrimo, NaPoWriMo 2016, NaPoWriMo16, poetry, writing, Yorkshire poet

Circle Dance

Tell me why we dance the round

fingertips touching

feet on the ground.

This sweet wine tastes

of bitter allows

mother’s ruin,

sloes and arrows.

We spin around

and you leave me reeling,

the Judas kiss

was still deceiving.

I pledged to you

a barbed ring oath,

life shot me down

and stole your troth.

By Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

The Hula-Hoop of Hindrance

12 Tuesday Apr 2016

Posted by Worldly Winds in Humour, NaPoWriMo 2016, Poetry

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Buddhism, hula-hoop, humour, napowrimo, NaPoWriMo 2016, NaPoWriMo16, poetry, The hula-hoop of hindrance, Yorkshire poet

Hello dear friends – well it has been a testing couple of weeks – hefty car repair bill, washing machine repairs, cancelled appointments, a funeral, and now I think I am coming down with a lurgy!

This is an old poem, but it always makes me smile. I wrote it on retreat and it is a metaphor for being inhibited and restricted by our habits. I hope it makes you smile too 🙂

The Hula-Hoop of Hindrance

I saw it in the playground,

when I was only three,

the hula-hoop of hindrance,

resting by a tree.

It was pretty, pink, and sparkly,

with unicorns and glitter,

it even had, ‘go faster’ stripes,

so I could hula quicker.

I put it ‘round my tiny waist,

and hula’d round the yard,

little did I realise,

that it would make life hard.

I learned to love my hula-hoop,

though I was only four,

when I went to bed at night,

I’d leave it by the door.

I realised when I was five

(and also at aged six)

that I had been quite naïve

my hula habit fixed.

This went on – my dearest friends,

throughout my adult life,

attachment to my hula-hoop,

caused me so much strife.

When cooking in the kitchen,

and trying to eat my dinner,

my hula hoop got in the way,

and I just grew much thinner.

and when I met my boyfriend,

I’d hula-hoop for joy,

but holding hands whilst hula-ing,

well… the romance is destroyed.

Showering or getting dressed,

at work, at home, at play,

my pretty, sparkly hula-hoop,

was always in the way.

When I went upon retreat,

there was no problem there;

for there were many hula hoops,

that we could swap and share!

Then, Maitripala gave a talk,

about the hula habit,

if we can see the gateway….

the freedom’s there, so grab it!!

The moral of this story,

is not too clear to see,

but if you choose a skipping rope,

you can set yourself free.

One day I hope my hula-hoop,

will rest against that tree,

and if you choose to have a go,

it’s going, gratis, free!!

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Finding The Silent Ones

10 Sunday Apr 2016

Posted by Worldly Winds in Buddhism, NaPoWriMo 2016, Poetry

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, Buddhism, finding the silent ones, napowrimo, NaPoWriMo 2016, NaPoWriMo16, poetry, UK poet, writing, Yorkshire poet

I wrote the poem below whilst on a retreat called ‘The Mythic Context’. It is a metaphor for seeking – it could be seeking happiness, seeking wisdom or seeking where we fit into the universe. This is one of my favourite poems. The sequel is in my latest anthology ‘Counting Magpies – Limited Edition’ and is titled ‘No Bell’. If you would like a copy please contact me direct 🙂

Finding the Silent Ones

I will scour the darkest forest

and glide through mango groves

searching for the silent ones

who travel the same road

I will fight the fiercest oceans

and plunge to deepest depths

searching for the silent ones

who sing with silent breath

I will trek across the deserts

leaving no grain of sand unturned

searching for the silent ones

for whom my heart doeth yearn

I will scale the highest mountain

and dwell within dark caves

searching for the silent ones

whom I hope to find some day

I will raft the rabid rapids

and abseil from peak to floor

searching for the silent ones

whom they say exist no more

I will comb the Sunkist beaches

and skim the silvery surf

searching for the silent ones

rumoured to roam this earth

I will search the church and chapels

and cathedral spires and tombs

searching for the silent ones

whom dwell in catacombs

I will tiptoe to the shrine room

and bow with folded hands

and here I’ll find the silent ones

my kith, my kin, my clan.

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Spontaneous

09 Saturday Apr 2016

Posted by Worldly Winds in Acrostic, NaPoWriMo 2016, Poetry

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

acrostic, Alex Carr-Malcolm poet, Alex Carr-Malcolm poetry, Alexandra Carr-Malcolm, napowrimo, poetry, Spontaneous, Uk poetry, writing, Yorkshire poet

This acrostic came about from a conversation with a good friend. I went to visit her and upon arriving on her doorstep she suggested we drive to the seaside. I admired her spontaneity, and she responded that she could only be spontaneous with a lot of thought and planning 🙂

Spontaneous

Superbly

Planned

Obviously

Needing

Time

And

Nouse;

Executed,

Organised and,

Uniquely

Spontaneous.

Oh yes!

I can be spontaneous,

as long as I have

enough time

to plan!

by Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Worldly Winds

~ It's not easy being me!

Tag Archives: Alexandra Carr-Malcolm

Tipping Sheep (The Right Way)

Sisterhood

The Waiting Room

Soldier On

Coasting

Cinnabar Wings

Circle Dance

The Hula-Hoop of Hindrance

Finding The Silent Ones

Spontaneous

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