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and here is some poetry from David J. Berrie of Kent, UK

Helping  in  the  kitchen.  (September,   1998.)

               Well,   Mr.  Shrew,
(D.J.B.)
                What   are  we  going  to  do?
                You're   stuck  under  the  fridge,
                 And   the  cat's  after  you,  Mr.  Shrew.

                I'm   stuck  too,  Mr.  Shrew,
                In   the  kitchen,  feeling   safer
                Perhaps   than   you,
                 So   here's  what  we'll  do...........

                The    cat's  mother  too,  Mr.  Shrew,
                 Is   lurking  around   somewhere,
                 So   exit  quickly,  while  I  cover  for  you,
                 And   we  might  meet  later ,
                  For   a chat  or  two,  Mr.  Shrew!

A  Thank-You  Poem.        (30.10.1997)

(D.J.B.)
         Our  happy  holidays are   gone,
         Now  work  and  worries   carry  on;
         Cold  autumn  colours   have  begun,
         Reminding  us  of   Change's  rule

         But  the  passing  around   of  our  share,
         Of  nature's  good  and    generous   care,
         Will  surely   come   again  next  year,
         When  happy  holidays    return.

Frustration. (21st.  October,   1998.)

(D.J.B.)  ( This  is  my  own  particular  favourite.)
      Random  access  memory
      Or  read  only  memory,
      This  computer  gives  me  ache   of  the  brain,
       With  it's  floppy  screen
       And  colourful  disks,
       Giving  me   back   all    my   efforts  again.

       Clicking  buttons,   very   useful,  I'm  sure,
        Though  I'd  rather  watch   a  wind-swept  hedge,
         Listen  to  a  sparrow's   pledge
         Or  sit  and  bash   the  floor!

         There  must   be   something
         Good  in  all  this,
         If  it  really  is   true  what  the  experts  say.
         Aah!!     I   wonder  could  it   possibly  be
         That   this   machine   could   teach  me   Poesy?

         Never.
?

A  Glimmer  of   May  in   November.

(Written  in April,  1997, changed  in  October,   1997, and  happily  printed  locally  in November,    1997 )

(D.J.B.)

' Remember  the  clouds   scraping   over  cold,   wet  fields?
And   those  stark,  lonely,  barren  frozen  trees.
   The  dark ,  dismal,  dirty  and  forgotten
  Remains  of  last  summer's  warm  Joy ?

   That  sun  setting  in  murky  grey
   Has  no   thought,  it  seems,  of  bright   May,
   Or  humming,  clammy  June.
    And  between  You,  the  Earth  and  I
    Gives  the  season  it's  mood,  our   air.

    Only   from  the  solid  shapes  of   houses
    By  this  road,  in  the  dark,
    Shine  occassional,  promising  beams,
    God's  gift  of  hope and  hospitality-----
     -------- A  sign,  a  reminder  to  the   tired  traveller,
     On  his  muddy  way,
     That  all  things  change,
      Except   One.