Tim Kitchen, 17 august 2022
Little Man.
There was joy, there was sorrow
there was darkness, there was light.
And then you came to be among us
on a cold and winter’s night.
The little miracle, we had hoped for
a gift to a father, of a son.
For this Grandad, a little playmate
And time together, full of fun.
For your Mother, what she hoped for
and it seemed would never come.
A little bundle of hope and joy
her very precious baby son.
With your smile you make us happy
if you’re sad we feel it too.
And our lives are so much better
when we spend our time with you.
You and me, we play together
football, cars, Spider-Man too.
In a world of fun and fantasy
that’s created by me and you.
When you grow to be older
and I can no longer be.
Hold me tight in your heart
and just remember me.
Tim Kitchen, 17 february 2020
Even though it rises every day
somewhere, someplace in time.
On a day in the life of Jacob
the sun doesn’t often shine.
A shopping centre is bright and loud
and Jacob is sitting on the ground.
With his head buried in his hands
sensory overload of sight and sound.
People notice as he begins to shout
his Mother scared he’ll run away.
Some think he’s badly behaved
but for him it’s just an Autism day.
Later he escapes to his room
stressed and needing time alone.
A meltdown at dinner hasn’t helped
but he’s calmer now, on his own.
Playing at length on his old guitar
takes his mind to another place.
Where the demons in his head
for a while are not in his face.
Eventually he takes to his bed
and will rise, as soon as it’s light.
Probably won’t have much to eat
appetite dulled by a restless night.
People around him struggle to help
he tries to cope in his own way.
On a day in the life of Jacob
it’s always an Autism day.
But he deserves a chance in life
and we must strive to find a way.
For children like him, with future fears
to be able to seize the day.
Tim Kitchen, 12 october 2017
When I woke up this morning and I saw you lying there
with the sunlight through the curtains shining in your hair.
I looked at you lovingly, while you lay asleep
then leaned over to kiss you, gently on your cheek.
And I do believe it's true to say,
I think I have kissed an Angel today.
We sat together at the breakfast table, with talk of the day ahead
as always you had something to say, to help me clear my head.
The phone rang, one of the children, needing you again
you patiently talked and listened to her, taking away her pain.
And I do believe it's true to say,
I think I have spoken to an Angel today.
When I came home in the evening, at the end of a busy day
you were there at the door to meet me, in your usual way.
I’d never seen you more beautiful, in the clothes you wear
I held you close to kiss you, while my hand ran through your hair.
And I do believe it's true to say,
I think I have seen an Angel today.
Now as I lay beside you, as you sleep, in the dark of the night
I think how you always bring to my life, so much love and light.
Without your love I would be, like a candle without a flame
for the close ones, who share our love, it would be the same.
And I do believe it's true to say,
I think I have loved an Angel today.
Tim Kitchen, 12 october 2017
The poet still writes, the singer still sings
of love, romance and passionate things.
Yet intimate strangers you are today
standing close but seeming far away.
No longer lovers, just husband and wife
but it’s not too late to change your life.
Togetherness can be a lonely place
if it’s just memories you embrace.
Just you two, the kids have grown
flown the nest for loves of their own.
Seems you’ve forgotten how to be
two hearts living in harmony.
But you can still be lovers too
it might just take a smile from you.
Some soft music, the lights down low
doesn’t matter how far you want to go.
Loving is not reserved for the young
it doesn’t have to be a song unsung.
Tim Kitchen, 12 october 2017
As Alice arrives at the Hospital door
a couple smile and say hello.
The girl who is heavy with child
asks which way they should go.
Alice leans over to reach him
to kiss him for one last goodbye.
A silent tear rolls down her face
as with sadness she begins to cry.
They’d been together a very long time
thinking they had more years to come.
But illness came and frailty ensued
now their life together is done.
After some time by his bed, she left
and on hearing a noise she smiled.
Coming from a nearby maternity suite
it was the cry of a new born child.
She sees the same couple as before
next morning when collecting his things.
And smiles, as she sees their baby boy
as one life ends, and a new one begins.
Tim Kitchen, 12 october 2017
My faith was never a beacon of light
more of a flickering candle at night.
My Father’s beliefs were always strong
perhaps somehow I got it all wrong.
In spite of those hymns I love to sing
for me it’s more a borderline thing.
But I see things in a different way
I don’t spend time praying each day.
For me God’s love is practical too
shared with others in the things we do.
Through help we give to those in need
whoever they are, whatever their creed.
A man lies bleeding in the dark of night
prayer won’t save him and make him alright.
A helping hand will, so that’s what I’ll do
and he may feel God’s love there too.
Maybe I’m right or maybe I’m wrong
but this is how me and faith get along.
Tim Kitchen, 12 october 2017
Children playing in the evening sun
running around, just having fun.
Dogs chasing balls happy to play
rolling in the grass late in the day.
A couple sitting on the ground
trying not to make a sound.
Where so much happened, long ago
on the field where wild flowers grow.
This was a place long before
where men shed blood in a war.
A place of such horror and pain
where men fought and men were slain.
Living in trenches with blood stained pools
with weapons of war, their only tools.
It’s hard to imagine, long ago
on the field where wild flowers grow.
Fledgling birds are trying to fly
into the bright evening sky.
Someone there is trying to pray
children think it’s a place for play.
But you can still clearly see
where the trenches used to be.
Life is so different, than long ago
on the field where wild flowers grow.
An old man stands on his own
he seems content to be alone.
With tears rolling down his face
haunted by memories of this place.
He was here when he was young
cold and scared carrying his gun.
When life was harsh, long ago
on the field where wild flowers grow.
Tim Kitchen, 18 december 2013
Door bells ringing, children singing
Christmas songs, just for you.
Joy they bring, with smiling faces
hoping for a coin or two.
Church bells ringing, choirs singing
Christmas carols by candlelight.
As the faithful come to worship
on this special holy night.
Lights are on the Christmas tree
pretty colours reflect on the wall.
Excited little ones, trying to sleep
hoping Santa, will come to call.
In the church they speak of shepherds
and angels coming from above.
Of how Christ was born of Mary
the prince of peace and love.
There are parties, with happy people
who are full of Christmas cheer.
Dancing, singing and laughing
and enjoying their food and beer.
At the church, the mass is over
so the congregation drift away.
Night becomes a new tomorrow.
and at last, it’s Christmas day.
Tim Kitchen, 12 december 2013
Winter has its sparkle, but not for me today
my thoughts have turned to summer, not so far away.
With mild and lighter evenings and days so warm and long
I think of all the things I can do, when summer comes along.
But I’ll just want to be with you and feel you close to me
walking hand in hand with you, strolling by the sea.
So I will take some time away, to be alone with you
and we will find a rocky cove, where the sea is blue.
As we watch the children play, we’ll wonder at it all
then I’ll steal a kiss from you, as the waves caress the shore.
And I’ll just want to be with you and feel you close to me
walking hand in hand with you strolling by the sea.
We’ll take a walk across the cliffs, up where the seagulls fly
and watch the sea crash on the rocks, as the clouds drift by.
Then we’ll stroll down to the beach, to find a shell or two
and watch the surf ride on the tide, just glad it’s me and you.
The winter has us in its grip, now snow has fallen too
but my thoughts are of summer days, just being alone with you.
Tim Kitchen, 12 december 2013
Maybe, just one child is all it would take
born into this world of conflict and hate.
To grow up with a voice all men would hear
who would speak of peace, not war and fear.
Someone who would bring the world peace
and encourage all wars and cruelty to cease.
A man, or woman, the world would listen to
I’m just a man with a simple point of view.
But could it be, it’s already happened before
and no one will listen to anyone anymore.
Perhaps we just need it all to happen again
but would we just listen and carry on the same.
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