Through the Eyes of Youth

My granddaughter, May, who is 13 years old, has always had a passion for creating stories and rhymes which she illustrated herself.   Last year, she began to take a serious interest in poetry and since then has produced some truly magnificent work (well, as her grandmother I would say that, wouldn’t  I?). This is why I am posting a selection of her poetry, so that you can judge for yourselves.  The first three poems are taken from May's summer collection. The fourth poem, Star Girl is her most recent work . The remaining poems, were written earlier this year.

If you like what you read, please accord her appropriate encouragement with a ‘tick’ or a ‘like’ (whatever is available).

May is 13 years of age and is a young carer for her brother, who is autistic.

MAY'S POEMS

Who hangs the stars from their delicate golden thread,

Why do our minds race like comets in an endless night sky,

What does the melancholy glow in the graveyard of stars need to shine,

When did the luminosity of the galaxies decide to create the beautiful incandescent emptiness,

Where did the heavenly bodies in a perpetual world decide to be,

How in the wonderful and desolate universe was I lucky enough to have you?

---

The music of silence haunts the corners of my mind,

The music of silence is so loud it beats like an eternal drum,

It beats throughout the galaxies and universes,

It is so loud that nobody can hear it,

But it is there,

Beating for itself and itself only. 

---

When worlds collide and the sky is filled with nebulas and clusters of angel dust,

When the heavens descend and make beauty on my lonely planet,

When everyone has flown to beyond and I have been left in a melancholy silence,

That is so stunning you can't close your eyes,

But is so inconsolable that you want to,

Will the emptiness in a full sky want to see a singular light,

Even when the world has no dark,

Yet it is so quiet and dim when the moon turns it back and slows time, even though it is only accelerating,

Faster than a comet flying to its destined end,

And the sun has gone out and left me in the brightest eternal darkness,

Left me in the coldest fire but I am alive,

So I ask the heavens if I am good,

So I ask the heavens if I am worthy,

So I fall and I soar to my wanting end.

---

STAR GIRL

Oh Star Girl

Seek your reply from far away lands,

You sent a message waiting,

Looking for a place you can see,

As beautiful as the empty sky

Which you gaze upon from night to day,

Oh Star Girl

You stare at the above like it is a god

As you claim it to be one,

Wishing you could fly like the comets and stars,

You try and fail to fly instead you fall,

Still you try to reach the stars,

Oh Star Girl

I admire the beauty you don't think you have,

I love the way you dance on Saturn's rings

Even if it is only in your dreams,

I know you are longing for more,

I see that you want to escape yourself,

Oh Star Girl,

It's louder in your head I can tell,

It's louder than the universe,

Which leans towards you alone

Because you are the universe and it is you,

Because not just the universe said I love you as you are...

---

The following poems, for which May holds the copyright,

were written by her in 2023, when she was 12

years old.

A hazy sensation in the mist,

If my mind could only envisage the dream, 

A heavenly view from up above,

I've spread my wings, how about you?

Some memories we hold, others we share,

Some are grey, some are bold,

Some of them are stories untold,

Some bring joy, others cause you to cry,

Over time they dim, start to die,

Alas, when some visages fade to black,

Hope that the love, may it stay intact. 

---

 When times get tough,

And our lives are rough,

Remember I'm here,

And I will wipe your tears,

So when the time comes,

And we spread our wings and fly,

You don't have to say goodbye.

---

Quick, come hide on the floor,

Come to haunt are things from before...

 The laughs, 

The love,

The long nights alone,

The times together,

The times that felt still as stone,

 A mist of colour in the sky,

Through  which, I'd love to fly... 

---

 Cinnamon Buns,

Cinnamon Rolls,

The recipe in the back of the book, 

The recipe you never get to cook.

Cinnamon Loaf,

Cinnamon Cake,

The smell of gingerbread when it bakes,

A small but large happy

And Cinnamon Smiles.

---

You say the stars we see are dead,

But that’s just nonsense in your head,

The stars we see may be gone,

But the sight and happiness will live on...

---

Time flies by,

Even if the days drag on,

A year has passed, then two then three,

And you're left dazed,

Wondering where half your childhood went...

---

Have the Guns Ever Fallen Silent?

On 11 November,1918, after four, grueling years of continuous warfare, the guns of the Western Front fell silent and negotiations commenced to forge an Armistice.

A WAR TO END WARS

A war to end wars,” said  David Lloyd George, Woodrow Wilson  and Georges Clemenceau, 

At the Treaty of Versailles, after much political  bickering and quid pro quo.

But who could seal those dreadful portals of hell,

Or block the road to Armageddon,  that  had been trodden so  well?

And could the weapons and trappings of war be eradicated.

Or its savagery and malevolence eliminated?

Sadly, the treaty diminished neither enmity nor strife,

And failed to  enhance  the common citizen’s  quality of life

It was a deeply flawed proposal and, before the ink was dry,

Mammoth  cracks were splitting the treaty of Versailles.

The imposition on Germany of swingeing reparations,

Resulted in a rebound by many other nations.

Meanwhile, universally, wars were unabated,

Uprisings and insurgencies were widely activated.

The scorching flames of genocide blazed across the globe

Fueled by the extremist, stoked by the xenophobe.

Hostilities unfolded as the swell of hatred rose,

But none possessed the savvy to bring conflicts to a close.

We’ve now addressed this problem using toothless organisations,

Who come under the aegis of the great United Nations

And are sworn to champion and defend the  innocent civilians

Whose deaths in recent conflicts now stand at many  millions.

Mankind it seems is bent upon a path to self destruction, 

And undoubtedly will  reach it without hindrance or obstruction..

Maggie Smart

Elegance, Charisma and Flair

MY SISTER-IN-LAW'S-SISTER

Carole’s not my sister-in-law; she is the sister of my sister-in-law (who was married to my late brother.)

If you are finding this at all confusing, I’ll explain further, it’s no bother.

Whilst she’s not exactly in the family circle, Carole is certainly on the periphery,

From where she is free to establish her own boundaries of proximity.

Being peripheral, she is exempt from having to buy expensive Christmas and birthday presents for the multitudinous relations.

But is welcomed with open arms when it comes to dinner parties and other such-like celebrations.

Furthermore, there’s no need for her to get involved in family squabbles and feuds,

Or wrestle with any other problematic interludes.

We were delighted to have Carole as quasi family, because she brought with her an air of elegance, charisma and flair,

And a successful career in acting, of which we were well aware.

She also brought Patrick:

Patrick was an ex-army officer, now retired.

Who was always immaculately groomed and impeccably attired.

One of nature’s gentlemen, although there is a minor thing to note,

He was no sort of gentleman whatsoever, when he was on his boat.

One sunny day in summer, a small family group of us had been invited by Carole, to lunch with them on board.

Then take a trip down river, from where the tributaries could be explored.

The men and boys were straightaway dragooned to help Patrick cast off the vessel,

This involved manipulating all kinds of complicated ropes and knots, with which they had to wrestle.

Suddenly, there was an almighty rumpus, consisting of barked orders, interspersed with streams of invective.

Which as a means of capturing ones attention, or scaring one half to death, was most effective.

Patrick, as Carole calmly explained, had transitioned into Captain Bligh of ‘Mutiny on The Bounty’ fame.

It appeared that whenever he took charge of a boat, it was always the same.

However, although at the time, admittedly, it did cause some alarm.

In general, it didn’t detract at all from Patrick’s natural charm.

To summarize, he’s not my brother-in-law, he’s the spouse of the sister of my sister-in-law.

I trust I’ve explained it succinctly and that there’s no need to provide further information or tell you more.

Maggie Smart