Friday, September 1, 2017




Everyone looks forward to making memories together
Come rain, come shine, whatever the weather
But sometimes, it doesn’t work out as we’ve planned
And the cards we’ve been dealt, are not the hand
We’ve assumed the path, our lives will take
And all our ideas, we may have to forsake

And we walk to road, that none would chose
When delivered a diagnosis, with the news
That one has a condition, that will change everything
With the pain and heartache and the tears it will bring

For this courageous man, I write these words
Whose love for his family, flies as high as the birds
With determination to never give in
And against all odds, he’s resolved to win

He’s a man from Yorkshire, who’s fighting a disease
That’s robbing his movement and his voice, it will seize
But with his strength of purpose, he remains steadfast
To fight this condition, he did not forecast

He knows he is already, losing his voice
So using technology, has become his choice
To preserve, how he sounds, for his girls and his wife
To remember him by, when he no longer has life

As one’s voice is as unique, as one’s face
He’s decided to record and to embrace
The help of thirty voices, that sound like his own
With its modulation, its rhythm and its tone

By moving his eyes and the use of infrared
He can spell out his words, which the computer speaks instead
But the beauty of this ability, is he keeps his identity
And doesn’t sound like a synthesized, generic non-entity

A preprogrammed voice, would just not be him
It would confuse his girls, which would be grim
So this machine makes all the difference in the world
For himself and his wife, but especially his girls

Diagnosed with MND, the cruelest disease
However much one prays, however much one pleas
It relentlessly progresses, as it steals one’s health
And carries on robbing, with its insidious stealth

But this concentrated man, has focused his mind
To not be its victim and has not resigned
Himself to be stopped in doing all the things
That makes him happy, that life brings

From zip wire and to driving, a Formula One
And flying a microlight, just had to be done
And tackling the terrain of the Yorkshire Moor
In his electric wheelchair, 4 x 4

He wants to make others more aware
Of this disorder, that’s so unfair
Six people in the UK, are diagnosed each day
And a third of these, in a year it will slay

So my thoughts and praise are with this man
Who against all odds, does what he can
Whilst he battles with this beast, he can’t control
But to enjoy every moment, now is his goal

I speak because I witnessed my father fight
This dreadful disease, with all his might
More money must be found, for a cure
So we all can be really sure
That this beast can be controlled
Before more stories like this, will be told.


He said,

Mankind will survive their disappearance for no more than five years
and our continuity depends on the health of our planet and its species,
there are no second chances and when they’re extinct, we’ll watch through tears
when it’s their end and no amount of our empty words and pleas
will bring them back.

Our world will be a very different place.

When the last one dies, will we open our eyes and no longer see
the species that played such a significant role, has left no trace
and within no time, our diet will be so bland, without the industrious bee.

We swallow the fruits of their labour, greedily, without much thought
that every third bite of food we eat, comes as a result of their productivity.
Foolishly, is honey the only gift they give, were we taught,
not that over 4000 vegetables depend on these pollinators activity?

This diligent group, so under threat, should be top of our list,
as without their earnestness we risk, losing all of our plants
that with their chivalrous stripes, they have gently kissed
and we run the danger of silencing their humming chants
in our gardens and flower meadows.

But it doesn’t just stop here.

With no flora to consume with their sustenance, all the beasts that rely
on this food will be affected and will also disappear
and without our intervention, they will also suffer and die.

So up the food chain this will have a knock on effect.
Our cattle used for meat and milk, eat lupins and alfalfa,
both of which depend on the pollination of this flying insect,
so when the last one buzzes its end, will we well up with nostalgia?

Instead we spray our crops freely with neonic pesticides
that are toxic to these creatures, in their coats of blacks and yellows,
as roaming they collect this lethal nectar, to then provide,
honey for their larvae, these foraging little fellows
transport it back to the colony to cause widespread death,
or when exposed to these chemicals, they forget their way back home
and become disoriented and insane and take that one last breath,
whilst their larvae wait for nourishment in the hexagonal honeycomb.

Neonicotinoids increases the effect of the varroa mite,
just 2,000 of them can kill a 30,000 colony
with viruses and disease, then this crab like parasite
is detrimental to the health of the helpful honeybee.

‘Well,’one asks ‘what can be done to help them in their plight?’
We should support our local farmers who grow organic,
do not use pesticides or chemicals in our gardens to fight
the weeds, leave them and make a colourful border that’s botanic.

Plant through the seasons to provide a year round bee habitat,
keep our lawns longer for shelter, don’t just cut our grass
in parts.  These steps are small but will help us all combat
the decline of this, our allies. let’s face it, it’s not a lot to ask.


You’ve finished your meal, the food was fantastic
With fish in its sauce, along with the plastic
Your plate is now empty, which you move to one side
It was catch of the day, just in with the tide.

Marine animals often mistake plastic for food
As they swim in the water, it could be viewed
As plankton, or weeds, or shoals of small fish
But its micro-beads and bags, a real toxic dish

Over 400 years, these plastics can last
How short our wasteful lives in contrast
This poisonous waste taints the sea floor
And can rise on the currents and come home ashore

From shampoos and shower gels and whitening toothpaste
And cleansers and makeup, contribute to waste
In this throwaway world of ours, the list just goes on
Won’t we take notice, until our sea life has gone

Less than five percent of plastics, are recycled worldwide
This is the reality, of which we can’t hide
Our single use bottles and packaging litter
Should disgrace us completely and make us feel bitter

Whilst we watch it all, spiral out of control
Do none of think that mankind has a role
To stop this pollution, before it reaches the sea
Recycling and re-using, just could be a key

And now we are finding it’s in our food chain
Will it affect our organs, our health and our brain
Toxicity comes from mercury, cadmium and lead
Causing birth defects, cancers, it’s got to be said

So as individuals, what part can we play
As we reportedly use a half pound every day
We have to be willing, to look past our denial
And for our environment, we need to stand trial

We could use our bottles, more than one time
Which in itself, is a disgrace and a crime
So let’s be responsible and not make a fuss
Otherwise our negligence, will come back to haunt us.


COHL WARREN  HOWLES : She lives in Stratford upon Avon, England and has a blog called Currently in Rhyme, where she covers events across the world, in rhyme. She has written a book entitled The Silent Scream, which is about ALS/MND. Her mother language is English.

Present happenings, in the nations of our time
Realist, idealist, she puts her thoughts in rhyme.
In this world of changes, that moves so very fast
She tries and capture things before they have passed.

Her interests are varied, but just to name a few
Her words in her posts, will also give a clue.
She’s a fan of Eckhart Tolle and the words of Mervyn Peake
And current world affairs, of which she will speak.

She loves stone circles and places in history
The Law of Attraction and things of mystery.
She’s a lover of images, especially black and white
But it’s the current world affairs, of which she writes.

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