Larry Gardiner

© Larry Gardiner 2005

The Open Gate

Broken, but open, the gatehouse stands

Where privilege once was hidden

A letter here has summoned me

And through this gate I’m bidden

Broken, but open, here I stand

No privilege in my past

A life filled with opportunity

Is mine to claim at last

Sero sed

Serio

Late but in earnest

Here I go

To Kiss a Dead Hand

My boy was noisy

Always loudly laughing

Sometimes he crawled into our bed

Now he’s dead

He ran off to school today

Shouting back at me smiling

Now I kiss his dead hand

And I don’t understand

The Beauty You See

She's lost her breast

It's for the best

She's lost her hair

It's just not there

She isn't mad

'Doesn't feel too bad

It's not a ploy

She just feels joy!

She can still thrive

She's still alive

To celebrate

She would like to state

I can still pose

Like a Black Rose

The beauty you see

Is inside of me!

Life can be Hell Sometimes

The noise in my head won’t stop

It runs on and on and on

I lie there awake and I long for sleep

My body just cannot relax

It twitches and sometimes I shake

I long to cry and I wish to die

The alarm sounds as soon as I doze

I reluctantly crawl out of bed

I take a deep breath and get on with my life

"This story started as a writing exercise about feelings and emotions. All I did was change some names and here you have it.....My very first 'Mills and Boon!' I hope you like it. If you would like to read my first romance just click the title to download the story as a Word document which you can print and read."

© Larry Gardiner 2005

Ode to Autumn

Ode to Autumn

Not for me

I’m left pushing this pram you see

With shopping bags

And screaming kids

The wind is bowling the dustbin lids

The bus is full

It just sweeps by

I’m so fed up I could cry

And now the children fall asleep

Just in time

For stairs too steep

The lift is broke

The landing stinks

But the caretaker smiles and winks

He helps me in

And welcomes me

I welcome him

I make him tea

His Autumn leaves him glowing red

With broken veins his face is thread

I’ve found a man who understands

An older man with no demands

Gentlemanly grace with a lived-in face

Wet feet and dripping nose

I’m hardly looking like a Rose

He beams at me

And I beam back

He looks long

And I long too

It’s a surprise when I notice his eyes

He looks in

I look him over

I like what I see

Does he see me?

The whipping wind

And dribbling damp

Have left me looking like a tramp

But delivered me a friend

The moment moves on

He makes to move

I want him to stay

But can’t think what to say

An ‘Icon’ Evermore!

Deaux Chevaux

Deaux Chevaux

Ready everywhere I go

People wave

Some folk rave

A friendly little car

Little tin snail

Little tin snail

I have never known you fail

‘Round each bend

Without end

Just sticking to the road

Pretty poppy

Pretty poppy

Your spings and seats are really floppy

With lolloping gait

You proceed in state

Slowly getting there

2CV

2CV

You are very good to me

Brave and bold

But very old

You take me everywhere

Ugly Duck

Ugly Duck

A car that doesn’t give a f*ck

With unique style

Mile after mile

An ‘icon’ evermore!

Heart on my Sleeve

She has not dressed too loudly

Wears her femininity proudly

I notice her pudenda

God! I’d love to spend her

She turns walks away and I grieve

A bulge in my trousers my heart on my sleeve

I stop and ask myself why?

This urge to objectify

Is it possible to choose

I’ve really got nothing to lose

I let the tumescence subside

I decide to recover my pride

"I spent a very long time listening to somebody who I love and respect. This is a 'talking heads' exercise in lending somebody else my voice or giving a voice to their story. All the events are true but names have been changed to protect the innocent. Just click the title to download the story as a Word document which you can print and read."

© Larry Gardiner 2005

"This is a more or less true story with all names changed to protect the innocent. Yes I was there although not directly involved in the main drama. I still have my old passport which bears a stamp ordering me to be expelled from Franco's Spain for my suspected involvement in the events described in this story. Just click on the title to download the story as a Word document which you can print and read."

© Larry Gardiner 2006