JUNE/JULY COMPETITION - POST ALL ENTRIES HERE

[Ric Raftis]

G'day all,

Well try this one on for a topic this time - "IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH"

Now that could provoke some very deep and meaningful poetry about, well, I'll let you work that one out to some light hearted stuff about being brought some Panadol in the midst of a hangover.

Get into it and it would be great to hear from some of our newer members.  Don't be shy!

Cheers,

[Bernard de Silva]

So I asked my ol' Mate, Robbo, "How are you travellin', China?"...
and he hit me with this....

 “IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH…”

Seems like yesterd’y…but again, it’s bloody hard to recall,
I was virile, bordering romantic, with no pain, or ills at all.
Sound in body and desire, mind retention like a steely trap,
youth, a virtual muscled reservoir, for testosterone and sap.

The body resilient…well it was, back then it stood the test,
 I guess foolishly I abused it, till that resilience went ‘west’.
Reckon it took a little while but booze gave decline a boost,
scant bloody comfort, when the chooks come home to roost.

Health is waning…of course, this body’s copped a floggin’…
I’ve synthetics in my kneecaps and ‘Al’ Zymer, in my noggin.
Sight is blurry, when I’m sober, and I stagger like a drunk…
Now my ego’s shot to ribbons, ’cause libido’s done a bunk,

Now, if health’s your wealth, I’m not worth a plugged razoo,
my drainage system's suspect and my blood quality’s R./S. too.
Cell count, is low to glory … I’ve got alcohol, not electrolyte...
my virility’s ancient history, and no solution looms in sight.

Flatulence another problem…’cause fatigue’s beset the 'freckle',
my undies are rated waterproof, in a colour match, anti-speckle,
I’m bloated, by retention, inflated…I can’t chance it for relief.
mate,  preserving pristine condition, takes resolve beyond belief.

Gone, all save the grand memories… confessions of a ‘ rager’,
all that past vim and vigour, is  scant comfort to this old stager.
I keep all movement restricted…’cause motion, requires stealth,
life’s a sad case, of before and after…“in sickness or in health”.

©. Copyright:  Bernard de Silva.     14-Jun-07.

[Bernard de Silva]

  “IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH…”

Fifty years now passed…at first, brief years of joy,
then those years of sacrifice, such as needs employ.
She tended this cripple, was one man’s true wealth,
her contract  honoured…‘in sickness and in health”.

Fate, our life dictates…when infirmity, one traps,
with a capability withdrawn, each to a role adapts.
Never did she complain when finer years were lost,
her manner, an acceptance…regardless of the cost.

Pity, never her reason, although I sought the same,
years forced the realization, ‘cripple’, is but a name.
She offered up compassion, taught this fool to adapt,
to compromise adversity, so never by it, to be trapped.

Fate is cruel however…it denies most just rewards,
she has become forgetful, a trend, dementia affords.
memory’s sinister nemesis, invades in patent stealth,
one vow, now I honour…‘in sickness and in health’.

©. Copyright: Bernard de Silva…Jun. 14, 07.

[Irene]

In Sickness and in Health

© Irene Conner 19/06/07

For sixty years our marriage has enriched my humble life.
You are the rock that links us all – as mother and as wife.
but now they’re telling me that you should leave our home to die;
they say that you’d be better off – my heart begins to cry.
I promised you in sickness and in health.

I see you in your glory as if only yesterday.
I feel the same undying love as on our wedding day.
We promised we would never part until the day we die –
our friends were witness to our pledge beneath that summer sky.
We made our vows before the eyes of God

When times were lean, I left you home alone with kids and farm.
You held it all together and you kept our kids from harm
while I was out a-droving over dusty desert plains
to try and earn some money as we waited for the rains.
You’d promised me for better or for worse.

And when that wild horse threw me, I was laid up past a year –
you struggled to support us but you never showed your fear.
You worked the farm, and raised the kids - at night time you would clean,
but still your loving, happy smile kept flashing in between.
You’d promised me in sickness and in health.

Then when the kids were adults, we could kick back and relax;
we spent our days out trav’lling over dusty outback tracks.
We travelled up the coastlines and enjoyed our time alone -
We knew our love would weather any obstacles we’re thrown.
We pledged to stay ‘till death tore us apart.

But slowly, like a thief at night, your mem’ry slipped away –
no longer from our little farm could I get you to stray.
You felt the safety that was there, and didn’t want to leave.
And as I saw you sinking down, my heart began to grieve.
I promised you for better or for worse.

And now your weary body is so frail, and you’re confined
to lie within our marriage bed – they tell me I’d be kind
to place you in a hospice where you’ll have the best of care,
but they don’t know our promises that both of us still share.
I promised you in sickness and in health.



Bernie,
I hesitated about posting this as, when I went to post it the other day, I found yours, and realised we had written along the same lines.
However, I've since thought about it and figured that the theme is a common enough interpretation of the subject, and our poems are different enough  for it not to make any difference, so have decided to post it. Great minds think alike, eh?!?  ( & fools never differ!! - Just Joking!  )
Catchya
Irene

[therese]

~ I remember ~

on a bright and sunny morning
in a quiet outback town
amidst the war talk and dire warnings
we pledged to settle down

the grey haired irish pastor
with his walking stick nearby
read through our nuptials, faster
as relatives sat quiet and cried

no honeymoon, scarce time to breathe
no chance for hesitating
the army trucks, about to leave
wouldn't waste too long, waiting

i left you there, at your front door
that last week of december
with vows so fresh, my heart was sore
'in sickness and in health' ... remember?

days turned into weeks, turned into months, turned into years
the relentless dogs of war, kept up the fight
till finally.... surrender!  how ecstatically we cheered
as we left our guns, and danced throughout the night

arriving home, i fled the crowds, and headed for the bus
just needed to to see your smiling face
forget the world, and find some peace, just the two of us
and slowly build together, our own place

weren't blessed with kiddies, of our own
not meant to be, no one to blame
adopted til, our family'd grown
our brood of six, my, weren't we game!

i taught in schools, and managed shops
called auctions, and sold used cars
had a go at varied crops
even ran some trendy bars

so we'll enjoy this celebration
of nostalgia, pleasant sounds
seven decades, four generations
all our family, gathered 'round

therese mitchell

[Spinifex]

              IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH

Now our wedding vows include the phrases `In sickness and in health`,
`For richer or for poorer` that means broke or swimming in Lotto wealth,
You promise to stick with your partner no matter how bad things get,
Even after a lifetime of marriage and there’s nothing in the net.

`In sickness and health` don’t have to be sworn before a preacher,
Remember going to school crook and getting in strife with the teacher,
How many times have you gone to work, sick and dying from the flue?
When you shoulda stayed home but didn’t, there was far too much to do?

You know farmers to; do things `In sickness and in health`,
And most farmers are battling; few are privileged with wealth,
They’ll stick to their land through thick but mostly thin,
Hoping for rain and good prices, then maybe they’ll have a win.

A married farmer, you could say is copping it both ways,
Trying to make a living through endless working days,
And those vows he swore in front of family and friends,
Just like his farm, he means to stick till the bitter end.

Because the missus helps him in the paddock and down in the yard,
A real good hand and never once complaining, always working hard,
Yeah, she’ll be doin’ manual labour, then cleaning up the house,
Most blokes won’t admit it, but they’re proud of their spouse.

`In sickness and in health` may seem too many now outdated,
With pre-nuptials being signed, and all agreements firmly stated,
Lawyers with their fine print saying what can and can’t be done,
One has custody of a daughter, the other, custody of the son.

`In sickness and in health and I do`, those vows are meant to be forever,
Not to be destroyed by some educated lawyer, being clever,
And forget about the sickness; let’s hope we’ve all got health,
With that we’re rich, and don’t need money to prove our wealth,

If you have a partner who loves you dearly and doesn’t wish you any harm,
Who will always be beside you, with one hand on your arm?
Then count yourself very lucky because you are rich in life,
And fella’s if you’re like me, then you have a damn good wife.

                                                         © Corin Linch 16/5/08

[Claire Maassen]

In Sickness and in Health

And then came the day the doctor said “it’s down to this old son ...
you’ve got at most 12 months to live and get those odd jobs done.”
I told him that I’d better things to do while I still could
like loving my son and being the one to do what I knew I should.

He’s 13 today and I told the Doc that while I had my health
I’d spend each day, in every way, sharing of myself.
I had no qualms that my wife in arms would ever leave my side
she’d be my strength and the core of our home, my dedicated bride.

We talked about the future and the welfare of our boy
explored pits of futility and rediscovered joy.
Some friends drifted closer whilst others couldn’t cope
as the pain the operations and the morphine clouded hope.

To learn to find the beauty in the cruellest blackest times
and realise that everything, in every way aligns
leaves us with higher knowledge, the most useful of all wealth
and leaves us with the memory  ... in sickness there is health.

CLAIRE MAASSEN
© 20 May 2008

[lazymc5]

Hi all,
This is Macca's Missus here, this months topic got my interest piqued.  Please don't judge too harshly as this is my first attempt at poetry!

Standing here by his side
Knowing that I'm to be his bride.
Thinking of the vows and what it all means,
I know there's more to it than first seems.

"In sickness and in health, till death do us part"
I know is one I can live without.
To lose him again, I cannot bare
So take me with you, if you dare.

A few months later and I'm huffin' and puffin'
Two days and she arrives to hear me cussin'.
When at last she's laid on my chest
That's when we both get our rest.

A gem I call her - a precious find so rare,
A Princess is the only one that can compare.
So that's how she's known
Around town and at home.

Then one tearful night the midwife came,
To help me through this "mummy" game.
The nurse picks her up with care
And into each others eyes they did stare.

"Don't worry yourself, she knows what to do,
An old soul she has - she's not so new.
Trust her to guide you and you'll pull through."
Then left me to enjoy my daughter so new.

With baby now asleep and safe in my arms,
I feel relief and at peace now there's calm.
Now I've time to think, to remember those vows I said with care.
To the man I love, I pledged my life, but now it's time for us to share.

I realise now those vows weren't meant just for him and me,
But for our little mob of three.

So "in sickness and in health, till death do us part",
I can still do without.
But don't take us both - DON'T YOU DARE
For we've got another, another to care.

That nurse was right,
My Princess does know.
I just close my eyes and follow
Alot of stumbling as I go.

Now our Princess has an Angel close by,
Sent down from heaven to be by our side.
Our mob of three has grown by one to four,
Another on the way? Well Maybe...... not sure?!?!

Just keep sickness and death at bay,
For health and happiness I want each day.
Love and laughter is all I wish for my little mob,
So living life to the fullest in our new job.



Nicki
June 2008

[zondrae]

Welcome Nicki,

Glad to have you on the site. I, too, write some of my poems "through a mothers eyes", so I get where you wrote this from. We watch over our families, in both sickness and health and hope for only good things. There is some old saying about the measure of a man shows in adversity, but I think the meaning is person. Only problems can uncover the true strength of a persons character.

You will have to get your own 'sign on' so we can tell who it is we are talking to. Regardless of that I hope to see more of your poems in the members poetry section. I hope you are inspired to try the weekly 'homework'. This is an extension of a writers group I attend. We call ourselves Illawarra Breakfast Poets and we meet every Wednesday. We draw a suggestion each week for a topic and I post it on this site for anyone who would like to participate. This week we had 6 emailed poems.

[Whisper]

Zondrae,

Where do I find the homework tpoic of the week?

Greg.

[zondrae]

G'day Greg,

This homework 'thing' was started when I mentioned that the writers group, to which I belong, (Illawarra Breakfast Poets) give ourselves a homework topic each week. Then someone asked if they could join in. I usually post each new topic in the 'have a yarn' section on either Wednesday pm or Thursday am.
I then print them out and take them along. We vote on the emailed poems, and the chosen one receives a DPA (Distinguished Poets Award) which is an engraved Paddle pop stick.  It began as a virtual award but then Tony Stoddart, our convener, started mailing the recipient an actual stick.  Tony is not his usual self at the moment and I'm not sure if his stand in is following through. I'll enquire tomorrow.
You are very welcome to join in but your poem should be posted by no later than 9pm on Tuesdays.

I must take the opportunity to thank Ric for providing (all at his own expense) this site for us to play on. It has been a great source of developement for me and I am sure many others. Thank you Ric. There would be a big hole in my life if the site were to go off the air.