Key Piece

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a piece of the puzzle is missing

a piece of the puzzle is lost

a piece of the puzzle has gone awol

a piece we needed the most

the edge is missing its anchor

                                                   the border is shaky at best

                                                 and all the bits in the middle

                                                     feel insecure at this test

some hands have gone on a recce

fingering through lost and found

eyes are darting in panic

a madness is doing the rounds

all because one wedge is missing

missing, I said, not spare

essential, maybe gone for a burton

we’ve searched about everywhere

some guys claimed to have found it

and we tried but they had just lied

cut off the edges and filed them

no fit unless you’re cross-eyed

others brought in a new one

we sampled but there on the desk

lay the puzzle with one portion absent

 some folk, like me, couldn’t rest

neglected, we couldn’t abide it

what waste for the want of a piece

determined we hunted and foraged

unaccounted gave us no peace

puzzles they come in aplenty

perfectly carved from the first

boxed with the prettiest pictures

enigmas inside of a curse

for all of the boxes are missing

a fragment that fits and completes

but still we build, keep on trying

never admitting defeat

scores of them lying on tables

more of them housed on some shelf

 tatty are some, unused, faded

  jigsaws a lot like ourselves

waiting for hands that are loving

determine construction from bits

hoping and praying that this time

with effort, and luck, it all fits

                                                     if lost is seen mount a rescue

catch it and guard it for free

clip it and keep it for ransom

due reward for finding the key


On The Case



Will you please send it back if you find it,

I don’t know where it’s gone but I suspect,

And Cluedo-like I’m searching in distinct rooms,

Miss Marples on the case to it detect.

I thought I might have left it in the kitchen,

I leave a lot of loving there in pots,

Utensils all at hand, they proved quite useless,

One trace of it, there simply, though deliciously, was not.

I moved through hall, stairs hidden, into games room,

Checking in all pockets on the way,

Found some bits of value but all wrong shaped

And no one who was playing there could say,

Too busy with controllers and fast action,

I wouldn’t leave it there so I just left,

Into lounge and dining via study,

My hopeful start was growing more bereft.

A flash of inspiration, to the ballroom,

I love to dance so chance was on my side,

Huge but empty, not a tick to guide me,

I turned around and French doors flung them wide

To glass house where a million hearts were beating,

Rhythmic to the tune of silent stir,

Under leaves, in soil, I checked the gamut,

Even looked in books in library there.

I wandered on outside because, frustrating,

Where could it be and why oh, had it gone

Then I caught the scent of you upon homecoming,

I expect you took it with you at first dawn.

So close the board and off the case, detectives,

Suspect is a rogue that cannot guess

How many times I’ve feared my heart was missing

Then remembered just in time that it was blessed.

But, if seeking lacking is your secret hobby,

I have another case that you can pinch,

Someone stole two marks from metric measure,

Imperially, I am shorter by near inch.

Now, there’s a case that gives me cause for concern,

If hearts get lost and inches dwindle fast

I’ll disappear and then you’ll have to find me,

Like hide and seek with magnifying glass!

Child’s Day

No tears on waking,

one to keep

from words of love still running deep,

Two or more shall still be shed 

upon this day and those ahead

for mum-shaped love departed.

Daughter still,

though only name,

when both have gone, it’s not the same

Love shaped, parent-hearted.

I’ll never be an adult till

I forget, don’t miss them still,

Child-shaped, broken-hearted.

A rose or two I’ll lay today,

My children with me as I say

Goodbye, again,

Love and miss you always,

tears now started.

Funny how

the years betray

the child inside us, come what may,

 Children all, though parted.

Some tears I’ll spread for kids around,

some for others lost but bound

to heaven’s home where still they be

parents always to childlike me.

As children, how we started.

Today is Mother’s Day in the UK. To all children and parents, children still, for the love you have and give, be blessed.