Rhyme & Reason - a reason to rhyme

   They say they have got nine lives,     They're NOT though, 'mans best friend',    Though any I have rescued    Have loved me to the end.       We even brought one with us,    When 'cross the 'pond' ' did fly,    Been heartless to have left her,    Methinks,  e'en pets do cry.          (Sheeba)         When she passed, got a kitten,   That was 2013, So he is now eleven years, At showing love, quite keen.                                                             (Solo) - [Solomon}                                                             He also has a 'brother'                                                             A cat whose owners left  To travel to the west coast,                                                                       He was alone, bereft.                                                                                                                   (Sweep)                                                           

Jason & Sarah June 29th 2024 Anticipated 'citement  Within Murphy's abode, Bridesmaids, Bride, Brides mother, Excitement, overload. Brides father, calm and trusting That everything goes well, 'Twill be a day memorial For his delightful belle. Meanwhile, at church, awaiting, The groom, best man, beside, If he was feeling nervous, He surely, well, did hide. Checking time on cell phone, Young Jason thinks 'soon due',  Brides mother, looking radiant, But then, that's nothing new. Bridesmaids arrived and waiting For Bridal limosine, Pat and Sarah resplendent, The best they 've ever been. Bridal March now echoing, The congregation stands, All eyes secured on beauty, Quite soon, the 'wedding bands'. Nervous anticipation,  The plans, fallen in place, Jason beams adoringly, When they look, face to face. We hear, each one, their promises, As they pronounce "I DO" "My love secured indelibly, For no one else, but you".                    

 'Tis quaint, petite and friendly The food, delicious, too, A dozen folk would fill it, 'Tis specified for 'you'. Gives personalised attention, You will have service, swell, Ten, out of five for excell'nce, This business WILL excel.

People often wonder how spouses, they did meet, Did they see a stranger, a-walking down the street?, My parents, at a Temperance Lodge,  The date, the tenth of May, Dad saw mum, then told his pal,  "I have a date, today."  They stayed together, thick and thin,  Not saying ALL was smooth, Love was strong as e'er had been,  Their problems, they did soothe. Myself and mine, I often tell,  For us ,  'twas a  -  "blind date"   Now, NOT two strangers meeting 'cold',   I'll tell you of OUR fate. She worked in a Convention  Hall,  While I helped with a group, Who, visual problems did endure,   My now wife, made the swoop. I hadn't even noticed her,  As service she did give, We all have gifts that we do use,  Us, to survive and live. As our small group, convention o'er, Di d wait for taxicab, To train station deliver us; A chance she'd quickly grab. She came real close and stuck her lips,  On my surprised left cheek, Then scarpered off, still

T here are folk who come your way w H ose presence is well felt will st A y and help where’er the need dear frie N d, when rough times, dealt. our  than K s alone are not enough; for all that Y ou, have done, your  gener O us kind offer we thank yo U , for use of car.

“There’s too much love that’s shown here” No one has ever said, Though better THAT than have neglect,  A lack of love, is dead. Our country church, once more has shown Loves GUSHES through its veins, It comes as second nature there, To show love, they’re at pains. A ‘mention’ of a problem,  “To help, what can we do?” Before solution offered, They’ve given one to you. At that, it’s not just praying, Though that is ALWAYS good, But ‘ssistance beneficial,  Which puts one in GREAT mood.  I cannot give them thanks, enough,  Though ONE thing I MUST do,  That’s thank the ONE who THEM made,  To show their love to you.

Just outside Belfast city, A’ heading northwards bound With young enthusiasm, My friends and I were found.    Th’istoric feature towering  O’er city and surrounds Did beckon us with challenge, To conquer all their grounds.    Of course, this meant the feature, Which prominently shows From all surrounding acres, Known well “Napoleon’s Nose”    Heading up the Cave Hill, Enthusiasm rife, Sandwich, water, ‘fizz bombs’  All needed, for good life.   Treking through the forest With vibrant coloured hues, Yellow primrose calling With small flowers, velvet blues.    Sitting in the distance With proud renaissance call, That iconic building Known well as Floral Hall.   Heading on and upwards The first cave beckoned us Two of us did venture  Inside, with mighty fuss.   Did e’er humans or animals In here make home to dwell? No signs to say they HAD done So we can never tell.   Sandwiches all eaten Our Fizzy drinks washed down, Some ‘bluebells’ picked for mother, Her smile - our radiant crown.

Car is in repair shop Front fender plus jobs small, While waiting for the right parts Mechanic, did me, call. 'Twill be a few days to replace, The work that's needing done, So I have FORCED vacation Car ownership - not fun. Of course, look on the BRIGHT side, This forced 'rest', I'll survive, And I was still close 'nough to home, To my mechanic, drive. Had I arrived in Fergus When things had gone awry, I MAY have had to stay the night, Would NOT be happy guy.

       My mother was a worrier Mostly, about her sons, And with me having ep'lepsy Whenever I was young,      She feared the worst would happen Whene'er I was alone, She MUST have been quite FRANTIC, w hen ,  I was out of her zone.     Though HAD to cut the coattails In late teens and beyond, Especially on holidays When travelling 'o'er the pond'       I needed independance, Alone I had to thrive, And that is what good parents do, To teach us to survive.      The first time was the hardest, Her 'baby' - 'all growed up' Had only gone to England, though, No longer, little pup.       As years passed on, more confidence, That I'd survive alone, Eventually would HAVE to When not in parents' zone.         I'm pretty sure, though, through the years, Realising how time flies, That 'ventually I'd HAVE to strive,         So   HAD to cut the ties.

It must be the era of Language and Lit  When both were taught in school  Which gave both of us the yearning for it  And made us two so cool It sure would be great to meet up and fight  And on friendly terms then, we'd leave,  With hopes of another, a friendship of might,  And memories to share and cleave. Alas, with the distance, it doesn't look great  The border, a hindrance, for sure,  But bodily contact, a loving to 'hate'  Is really the only true cure. For yearnings experienced all of the time  When scantly clad bodies entwine,  When pinning opponents, upon them do climb  To make YOUR body MINE. Then as we get closer, in body, as friend,  More comfortable we'd feel  The bout which we started would come to an end  Who'd win? - the jobber or heel?.

                         I had a dream, I was in Heaven,                With all my loved ones, from years gone by.                A choir of angels, proclaimed my entrance,               The greeting, heart’ning from one and all.               Heard my Creator, give a welcoming,               ‘’To the JOY of my dear Lord,’’               No worldly cares, trials, temptations,               Angelic choristers, sang in accord.                I gazed with wonder at all the splendour,                The glorious jewels adorned around,                The streets, they glimmered with many gemstones,                Two dozen elders on radiant thrones.                That Great White Throne, it stood before me,                Earth and Sky did flee away,                It was the Judgement  and thanks to Jesus,                I had escap'ed, that flaming fire.  chorus music                 Now I'm in His Will, and He keeps me steadfast,                 Walks beside me every day,      

                          C ruis ing up the Belfast lough,                                     A   landmark stands so proud,                           R ecognised by all, world wide,                                      R eputed in song, aloud.                                      I   t dates back to  the ‘Norman’ years,                                     C astles then, meant  strength,                                     K eeping watch, both eyes and ears                                     F oreigners, - kept at length:                                     E xtinguished frightful fears.                                     R ugged archetecture,                                     G  randiose, has lasted, long,                                     U  pstanding, is,  that such a fort                                     S alutes this town, so strong.

I read the title of this ode And MOST would think "How true" However, I have ALWAYS felt, Applies NOT, to me and you. For when you see some roses, From 'far, they look so fine, Everything is radiant, This rose garden of mine. BUT, . . . .  for that garden t'flourish well, The 'Gardener' MUST work hard, Pruning deadened leaves and blooms Their bountiousness to guard. His work, not JUST the pruning, The deadened twigs, remove, But also their surroundings, So roots, their Source, can prove. There also are those prickly thorns To tear your skin apart, If e'er (or WHEN) you barge right in And don't think with the heart. HE is the constant 'pruner' So WE will look our best, Give 'Gardener' HIS glory,  'til we gain, eternal rest.