Just One More Time
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Part one as we grow: Baby: I love to copy Grand-dad: I like to copy Granddad, He smiles with eyes wide open, He shakes his head, and nods it too It’s fun to copy Granddad. I like to copy Granddad We play hide your face behind a chair- Boo! Such a scare! It’s fun to copy Granddad I like to copy Granddad He likes toast and yoghurt, with more, Crumbs and dairy liquid on the floor! It’s fun to copy Granddad………. Child: Meadow time Have you ever told the time, using nature’s clock, A dandelion head full of parachuted seed stock, By gently blowing the seeds, to count the hour! 6 puffs later, it’s 6 o’clock, by flower power. I smiled, “daisies are white, buttercups yellow”, Wild orchids are mauve and blue. I’m a lucky fellow, To wander, meandering, in this meadow of beauty, And take in the atmosphere, free from toll, tax or duty. Teenager: The field orchid Eye catching, sophisticated bloom, growing wild in the meadow Hidden by grass, so, for you we need to look below, Among the rye for a ten inch stalk, on display, For all to see, both night and day! With your one hundred heads tightly bound On the tip of your stalk eight inches above the ground. A choice of petal colours to delight; Pinkish Mauve and white! The shape of your blooms, are exquisite. You’re the complete fashion model – you’re it! Part 2 Before it’s too late Young adult: The Caravan In a remote part of Britain, way out on a limb, Lived three bachelor lads; Dave, Taff and Jim. In hotels they lived as they worked away from base, The lads felt bored, they missed the challenge of the chase!....... …….. So that was the end of the mobile bachelor pad, Whose demise and parting was anything but sad. But they still remember smiling, the days that were fun; Like the time they were chased by the man with the shotgun! Mature adult: Out of Love I do not know what spoiled our Eden We were happy together, Could be forever? Then the roses grew no more. Love faded quietly Setting slowly Like the winter sun. My eyes wandered, Over the garden fence, And to the village allotment I caught a glimpse I re-focused, Un-discussed, Still I did as must!......... Part Three It’s too late:? The Elderly adult: The Lady who: The young lady who made a beautiful bride Welcomed, all, with arms opened wide. The young lady who was a devoted wife, Stayed with her partner the rest of his life! The young lady who liked to sing and dance, Was our Mum, so full of love and romance!.......................
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About the Book
Just one more time is an account of life in late 20th century rural Britain. It is presented as a collage of poetry, describing ordinary, every day events and images in a thoughtful, occasionally thought provoking and often humorous way. It is biographic in layout, written in three parts, so the reader can catch his breath! Part One: “As we grow”. Describes images and events of baby as he develops into, first through childhood and then through his teenage years. Watching, copying and mimicking is what baby does best. Actual events begin to play more of a role through childhood, and interactions with others become more important to the teenager. Part Two: “Before it’s too late”. Reveals the attitude of the adult, always rushing to get things done! The young adult is enthusiastic, rebellious finding fault in many aspects of local and national government policy, which in his view is found wanting. Such as in his view towards the control of the individual, environmental pollution, statesmanship and seeming war mongering and mankind’s inability to cope with helping the developing world and control the “News power barons” and bankers and financiers. The mature adult may continue on his various crusades, but mellows as he takes on the responsibility of raising a family, and sees that the way things are organized, still have their faults, but begins to accept the world for what it is. The older adult is free from family dependency, and develops a realistic if somewhat cynical view on life, but is opinionated amongst his peer group. Part Three: The older adult becomes elderly and more and more pre-occupied with preparations to pass into the next world, if it exists! Memories become more important than events and sometimes interactions. But don’t take it too seriously, enjoy the poetry and keep smiling!
About the Author
Jeffery Hayton, a retired Engineer Inspector, started to write poetry in 2010. His first book A Parkinson Experience in Poetry and Pastels was published in October 2011. His second book "Just one more time" is a look at living in late 20th century Britain as a child and adult. Based on the lives of people he knew. Educated in Science and Engineering at Universities of Kent at Canterbury,and University College Swansea. He embarked on a career of Non-destructive testing, welding inspection and engineering Inspection, starting with Pipework Engineering Division of British Steel 10 years, and finishing his career( 24 years) as a senior surveyor with Lloyd's Register of Shipping. He was diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease in 2002 and retired in 2007. He is married with 3 grown up children and a grand-daughter. He draws on his life experience to write the poems, which are descriptive, amusing and thought provoking.