The Sharp End

The Sharp End

Jayne told me to write a poem,

So I held my pen like a precious gem.

"On what?" I said. "Give me a topic",

"Whatever you like" She said, "except on picnic".

"I'll do it on The Sharp End" I said to Jane,

Where the over fifties come again and again.

So I started scribbling then.

Holding my dribbling fountain pen.

"Don't make a meal out of it," She said

" And as short as possible it should be",

"Space is limited," said the sweet maid,

What else on earth could it be.

I'll carry on with the poem next time,

So I'll start it onother page,

And make sure it will all rhyme

And short and sweet as goes the adage.

The poem that I wrote was tough

I hope you'll like this one too,

I noticed you gave a hearty laugh

While reading line one and two.

This encouraged me to carry on writing

The critics will play a great role in this game,

As they read and keep on criticising

Unknowingly they push me forward just the same.

I'll tell you how I came to the sharp end

You might be willing to know my dear,

It was the old people's activities in the den

That attracted me especially the friendly atmosphere.

I got addicted first to the computers

As noticed by Jon our big Daddy,

Then got fascinated by the scanners

And sat there all day with my tea caddy.

Engrossed so much in it, they remind me to go home

Not even ask me whether I've got one,

They tell me to drag my bed and come

And click all night till the job is done.

Then I could play with the mouse till I'm bored

And tired holding it in my hand

Falling asleep on the complicated keyboard

As an exhausted and confused man in a band.

I thought computers were only made

For office use for young brains to mess about

But if you can run after a mouse comrade

You'll fight this battle and win no doubt.

I thought also computers bite like mad

That's why I stayed away and wondered

Then realised the only byte is the Giga they had

A built in soft ware device that measured.

The computer is my best friend now

I can live with it and have fun and so much to gain

I know more of its know how now,

By the help of Jackie Juliette and Jayne.

The ladies and the big daddy toil very hard

Leaving their loved ones behind

They need a holiday abroad as a reward

To unwind the stress of their tired mind.

I wonder what I'll do without them

If they all take a leave at the same time

Their sweet nature pleasing like a gem

Will haunt me if they don't come back in time.

They are all experts in their own way

Jackie, Juliette Jon and Jayne

Help is always at hand at any time any day

Before one is about to get the cane.

I approached to the sweet lady Jackie

"Tell me about moving images pray"

She happily taught me, I was lucky

Click on format, picture, and layout, tight and ok.

Since then every time I use this device

To be precise of what I'm doing

I just think of her and follow her advice

And the job is done without any time wasting.

Juliet taught me how to save

In the computer for the rainy day

I clicked on "save as" and gave

A name to the file and clicked on ok.

When Jayne is about, I feel confident

As everybody else does by her presence

Busy as a bee yet looking elegant

Admired for her courage and perseverance.

What can I say about our Big Daddy?

He is the king pin of The Sharp End

Without him the place would be empty

He is patient, and flexible in the end.

Everyone likes his sweet nature

He is the only one without a second

He is wise strong above all mature

Knows how to make the computers respond.

I love each one of them they are my wealth

They are all my good friends very dear

May god bless them with good health !

With long lives and a freedom from fear.

Xxxxxxxxxx

On Thursdays I attend to the Art Class

At ten in the morning rush hour I start

Our great teacher is a charming young lass

Pleased to be in her class, she is very smart.

Come you all folks, tis free to join

With Eva, on a canvas learn to paint

She is as beautiful as a newly minted coin

She is helpful and cheerful as a saint.

It's amazing to see the old folks

While working, gossiping and blushing

Equally pleasing to listen to their talks

and struggling ,painting and brushing.

We come to this class to have a good time

Meet each other and exchange our views

Going home happy with the job half done

And expecting a hot drink in the mews.

Life is short Eva says Art is long

That's why tis hard to finish a painting

The first step is difficult but plod along

Either frowning, staring or even fainting.

Carry on folks you are almost there

To meet the great Artist in heaven

You'll be rewarded there do not despair

He'll be proud of you or put you in the Divine prison.

Man is a replica of God they say

So be like Him great and fearless

He needs us for His divine play

For we have a form and He is formless.

He sent us here with form not by chance

To use us as His puppets in the string

We have no choice but to obey Him and dance

To His tune as He wishes to sing

Xxxxxxxxxx

The third activity for me in this busy place

Is to take part in the creative writing

Conducted by an angel who is full of grace

And love and affection in story narrating.

Her name is Frances never cared for name and fame

Is lovingly called Fran for a change

Always overloaded with work tis herself to blame

Not the bosses who know too much in the range.

I always admire an educated person

Especially if it is a sweet lady

Fran no doubt is the one for that reason

To obey her orders we students are forever ready.

To achieve to such an extent and acquire

She must have burnt the midnight oil

Almost setting the whole house on fire

With the austerity she went to toil.

The reason to join the writing group

Was to learn to restart writing

It was as difficult as going to scoop

A million pound in lottery winning.

The first step is always hard

But I was given a helping hand

That brought me no doubt a great reward

That only now I come to understand.

There are two ways to write I mean

The first one is to storm the brain

Keep going till you run out of steam

Or ask the teacher who is eager to train.

When I'm in the class waiting and ready

For the teacher to give me a task

Fascinated by the subjects I know already

Writing becomes easy if you ask

It's necessary to know your vocabulary

Or it will all be a mere dog waffle

When narrating a long and funny story

Which will only sound just like a snake rattle.

Grammar in formal writings plays a great role

Where story telling is going to make sense

Punctuation is necessary on the whole

Or the meaning changes in a long sentence.

One's own effort should be tremendous

If one wants to progress in study

The reward is absolutely miraculous

Then to face the exam you're forever ready.

Fran! You’re not only the mother of your two children

But undoubtedly our great mother too

You care for us when we are ready with our pen

For a tutorial or similar help from you.

After the writing class we go home tired

Often with a seized up brain

Fran gave us courage and always admired

Our homework that never went in vain.

I start cobweb clearance like mad and just go wild

Because nobody will read it not even Fran

It is brainstorming or scribbling like a child

As the first writing has no flash in the pan.

Much can be said about this great lady

Not because she is our revered teacher

She is as busy as the hard toiling bee

Needless to say about her sweet nature.

She says Lekhram! This is an epic of a poem

Don't you have anything else to do as an occupation?

I say Fran! You started the theorem

And I'm only trying to solve the equation.

Xxxxxxxxxx

And now folks last but not the least,

This is the one and only George Burk.

An important man in the list,

A British Who delights like a Turk.

He is an ex-service man nearing ninety

And still drives like a young man

Without wearing glasses, Oh Lord Almighty

Behind the wheel with a beer can.

Six foot tall, well built body like steel,

Best time of his life, as an honest soldier.

Was never afraid to die, but hated to kill,

Came face to face to the enemy a brigadier.

After all a soldier has a heart he is not a slave,

Just like any other human beings that crave.

Why then destroy just to be called brave,

If we are all going one day to the same grave.

George comes to The Sharp End regularly,

As he is a well respected volunteer.

He checks his e-mails and composes scholarly,

Then pays a visit to the local pub for his daily beer.

May God bless you George,

May you live long to your heart's desire.

In our hearts you will always lodge,

Our best friend whom we all admire.

We all came to this world interesting,

For a purpose to realise our Creator.

He dwells within our hearts a light scintillating,

Only a handful believe in this Great Actor.

Cycle of birth and death will remain intact,

Till He stops the great revolving wheel.

We'll all have to accept one day the fact,

That only His will be done never mind our will.

Lekhram