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.