CELIA'S POEMS
No 315 January 24
I know you
won’t believe me,
But I’ve
lost the power of speech,
I seem to
say things all in rhyme,
To speak
normal someone will have to teach.
I sit and
say things to myself,
And think
oh that sounds right,
By the time
I get my writing pad,
The words
have gone from sight.
I may have
sent a lot of poems,
But believe
me when I say,
There’s lots of little bits of ones,
That I just throw away.
But I just feel it’s easy,
Just like I’m talking to you,
When we’re locked up and can’t go out,
What else am I to do.
Don’t worry, I’m still baking,
At stupid hours of the day,
It’s just something that I love to do,
Then give it all away.
I often try new recipes,
To see if they’ll please you,
Some of them you may get to try,
The others just won’t do.
I don’t know why I bother,
We’ve been away so long,
Whatever I bring you’ll love it,
How nice, I can’t go wrong.