Tim Kitchen, 12 grudnia 2013
Living in another world
singing a different song.
Keeps me away from you
it’s been for far too long.
So I’ll take the early plane
to get back home tonight.
I can’t get to sleep anymore
if I can’t kiss you goodnight.
Never wanted to go away
but I just thought I should.
Doing things, the best I can
to bring about some good.
I need to be home again
singing a familiar song.
Knowing I am with you
back where I belong.
I’m taking the early plane
to be home with you tonight.
Knowing we’ll be together
and I can kiss you goodnight.
Tim Kitchen, 12 grudnia 2013
Snow hadn’t fallen overnight, but a heavy frost had covered the ground
and in the morning, a little boy ran downstairs in his dressing gown.
He could see the lights from the tree, as he skipped his way down the hall
it was Christmas day, many years ago and Father Christmas had made his call.
And there under the Christmas tree, was a rather large cardboard box
it was full of carefully wrapped presents of toys, sweets and new football socks!
The biggest present waiting for him was a Hornby Electric Train
and an Airfix kit for him to build a Lancaster aeroplane.
Also there to his delight, was a holster with a toy silver gun
and some favourite Dinky Toys, for him to have some fun.
It was definitely going to be a time, to play and play all day,
and later, when the Queen’s speech came on, he just had to sneak away.
He went into another room and saw the large cardboard box
he took off his shoes and climbed into it, wearing his new football socks.
In his mind he was in a boat, sailing the southern seas
looking at the stars in a foreign sky, sails flapping in the breeze.
He played for hours in his boat; it brought him so much joy
a cardboard box had turned out to be, his favourite Christmas toy!
( Christmas time, when I was a boy)
Tim Kitchen, 14 listopada 2012
Is my Mother with the angels
in her heavenly seat.
And does she watch over me
with angels at her feet.
When I think of how she lived
I feel like I’m with her again
Does she know of all my faults
and love me just the same.
I wonder where my Father is
does he stand at heaven’s door.
And does he know, I write poetry
just like he did before.
When my heart is in my poetry
it feels like I’m with him too.
Does his spirit help me to write
the way he’d want me to do.
Are they together in a heavenly place
with the Lord they wanted to see.
And do they think I live my life
how they’d want me to be.
Tim Kitchen, 14 listopada 2012
When I awake from my dreams
on each new day morn
I turn and find you near to me
your body soft and warm.
I take you in my loving arms
and hold you close to me
for I can only face the day
knowing your love for me.
As I go about my days
life’s pressures all around
my thoughts drift back to you
and the love that we have found
I think of when you’re close to me
and all those things you do
till I just want the time to come
when I’m back home with you.
When the day is over
and I’m lying there with you
I take you in my arms again
feeling love for you
our hearts, entwined as one
two lovers in the night
and I will hold you close to me
until the morning light.
Tim Kitchen, 14 listopada 2012
He goes to work each morning often before it’s light
careful to remember the things he must get right.
The traffic is often heavy the sky is often grey
but he has to make the best of things to get him through the day.
He goes back home each evening sometimes after dark
too late to see those he loves and take them to the park.
He feels a little weary with nothing much to say
and slowly drifts off to sleep too tired to save his day.
But deep in the heart of the man you see
lives the man he wants to be
free to live life, his own way
true to himself, every single day.
A man who can make dreams come true
a man like me, a man like you.
A man who can set his spirit free
to be the man he wants to be.
He goes to work each morning the sky is often grey
and it’s, just another day, just another day………….
Tim Kitchen, 14 listopada 2012
Decorations are in shop windows
yuletide music is all we can hear.
Pretty lights shine in the town centre
making it feel like Christmas is here.
Plans are made for friends to meet
to celebrate with food and beer.
Neighbours are putting up trees
making it feel like Christmas is here.
Soldiers have come home on leave
kissing loved ones, shedding a tear.
People travel to be with families
making it feel like Christmas is here.
Children practice the nativity plays
we love so much this time of year.
Choirs can be heard singing carols
making it feel like Christmas is here.
Very soon the turkey will be cooking
for the family meal we hold so dear.
Excited children will open presents
then we’ll be saying ‘Christmas is here!’
Tim Kitchen, 14 listopada 2012
He remembers their first time, in the evening chill
near to the cornfield behind the house on the hill.
Where the old folks live who are lost behind its door
and don’t know where, or who they are any more.
He visits her most days, she often doesn’t know who he is
at the house on the hill, where she now needs to live.
Sometimes she looks at him with a certain look in her eye
and he knows that look and he tries hard not to cry.
He wonders if somewhere behind those troubled eyes
the woman he loved so much somehow still survives.
And just occasionally in a moment of lucid thought
she remembers the times when her life was less fraught.
The time they were young lovers, passionate and free
and so happy to be married in the spring of fifty three.
The children they raised and all their cute little ways
and the sounds of Sinatra and Minnelli, on the airwaves.
He sits in his chair gazing through the window each night
up to the house on the hill, until the last moment of light.
Wondering if she looks down at the place she called home
and if she really knows he still lives there, all alone.
Tim Kitchen, 28 grudnia 2011
Someone has left you there all alone
doesn't even bother to pick up the phone.
No more cosy evenings in any more
and no one to welcome you at your door.
But you can find a way to get through
so don't let love's candle burn out on you.
It's hard to face the future with a broken heart
but you'll move on when you're ready to start.
Life will slowly get better as time goes by
and you can get through this, you just have to try.
You can find love again you know that it's true
so don't let love's candle burn out on you.
I know sometimes you just want to sit down and cry
thinking no one understands how you feel and why.
We all know you have a lot of love to share
and there will be someone for you out there.
So we'll all just keep on loving you like we do
but don't let love's candle burn out on you.
Tim Kitchen, 28 grudnia 2011
I missed my wife today
while she had to be away.
Realised how lonely I'd be
if she wasn't here with me.
Without her love and smile
life wouldn't be worthwhile.
I missed my wife today.
I missed my children today
seeing them happily at play.
Sunny days and ice creams
bedtime stories before dreams.
The've grown up and moved on
now my little ones are gone.
I missed my children today.
I missed my father today
working Monday to Friday.
Taking us out on Saturday
preaching in church on Sunday.
Taken from us far too young
long before his life was done.
I missed my father today.
I missed my mother today
busily getting through the day.
Dinner cooking, smelling good
afternoon read when she could.
Never a moan, often a smile
looking after us, all the while.
I missed my mother today.
I missed them all today.
Tim Kitchen, 28 grudnia 2011
Little girl, trying to sleep in your bed
don't listen to the sounds of bombs nearby.
Just close your eyes and try not to cry
and let your brother sing you a lullaby.
And don't listen to the noise of the guns
as the bullets flash by your door, don't cry.
Just think of the peace found in sleep
while your brother sings you a lullaby.
Little girl, as you sleep in your bed
when you dream, try not dream of the day
When the soldiers came with their guns
and took your father away.
And when you wake up to a new day
looking for the sun, through dust and smoke.
Try to find some hope in that terrible place
as you and your brother strive to cope.
Little girl, war is the world of grown ups
and there is nothing you can do.
Even if you tell them of your fear and sorrow
no one will listen to you.
But when the war is over and done
and you no longer here an exploding shell.
Maybe your young life will be a better place
more like heaven and less like hell.
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