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Featured Poem

Poetry is very individual, in content, format and style, but all good poems evoke an emotion or retort of some kind. They are best when they reflect the free spirit of the writer.

 

On this page, I hope to illustrate a wide range of poetic licence, drawn from my own personal writings, from poems I admire, or from contributions sent in by anybody visiting this page. If you have a poem – the shorter the better - you would like to share, please send it to me via the contact page. If you’d like to give the context of the poem then please do that too. 

 

The Times newspaper reported an experimental research study under the headline 'Healthy dose of optimism could stop you feeling ill' on Tuesday 20 January 2025. This reminded me of a frivolous poem on a similar theme included in Everyday Tales of Older Women in their Prime. It is reproduced below.

Optimism

 

‘How you can live longer’ the headline read

She’d skip the dull news and peruse this instead

What would the latest bit of advice say

And would it be something that she could obey

Probably strategies for eating better and less

Sleeping more exercising and reducing stress

 

So it was with some surprise that she found

The requirement was actually more profound

It might lead to the same healthy conduct

But was based on a much broader construct

Optimism it heralded as the behavioural trait

That could often greater longevity create

 

The notion was attractive she was keen to try

To see if she could natural pessimism defy

She’d need to change the way she conceived

And see half empty cups as half full she believed

Recognizing too the silver linings behind clouds

And seeking out the smiling faces in crowds

 

She knew she would need to look the part

And continually smiling was a good start

Her vocabulary too she did transform

‘Wonderful’ and ‘fantastic’ becoming the norm

Her family remarked on her new found zeal

Secretly wondering what it might conceal

 

It went as well as could be hoped for a while

Even though she felt permanently on trial

And there was only so long she could pretend

That she could easily her behaviour amend

Black cats magpies and the number thirteen

Were constantly threatening to intervene

 

Much more comfortable with a measure of gloom

And a certain respect for the dangers that loom

She was used to these feelings in a strange sort of way

And they did her a modus vivendi convey

So at last she conceded with some dismay

She‘d need another option her demise to delay

 

She couldn’t handle optimism it was clear

Looking on the bright side wasn’t for her

Worrying however did her avidly engage

And would hopefully conserve her to a ripe old age

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