These are works of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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The meaning of sadness.
By W.T.Armstrong

Why does my heart still skip a beat at the very thought of you?
Then sink again when I realize just what I put us through.
It was a long long time ago, I know that`s no excuse.
I wish I could make it all right, an everlasting truce.

Throughout my life I`ve made mistakes, that cannot be undone,
I thought i`d done the best I could with every single one.
But wisdom comes with age you know and now, although in vein,
I curse that night I said those words that caused us so much pain.

So all this time I`ve paid the price of youthful foolish pride,
I live my life in darkness here, where fools, just like me, hide.
I hope you found a love, so true, with someone straight and strong,
as it would make me feel so bad if you had got it wrong.

Life is but an existence, on a mental, stressful plain,
good fleeting moments, kept in mind, to drive away the pain.
I`ve had such moments, spent with you, we held each other tight,
when nothing mattered, just us two, in darkness, through the night.

And so I say goodnight my love,a whisper from my heart,
with tears held back, i`ve dreams to come, we wont be long apart.
Yes nightly for a thousand years I`ll dream the dreams so true,
You see, my darling, darling girl, in dreams I walk with you.



The meaning of one love.
By W.T. Armstrong.

Love, has a different meaning, to every living thing.
To some, love pains, to others, pleasures bring.
But none can hide within,from, loves passion pangs.
That are denied externally,for fear of brutal fangs.

Love was declared, between the pair, yet still concealed from view.
But I declared my never dying, timeless love to you.
My heart, my mind, my very soul, was yours, but, no return.
Your innocence of youth, my unforgiving code,caused our hearts to burn.

Your in my mind when I awake, and just before I sleep.
Because of other loved ones,this secret I must keep.
So crying in the rain or shower, serves my purpose well.
It would not do if others new, these things I can not tell.

I truly hope your life`s complete, my darling little girl.
I wonder if you think of me?, we did give it a whirl.
Today i`m old and wasted, but the passion burns within.
I love my wife and children, and other offspring kin.

Yet still I can`t forget, those early days with you.
The years we spent together,we had a different view.
I know now that it`s over, never more to be, but,
hope you have a small place, in your heart for me.

I will not try to find you, no contact will be made.
It can not be the same for you, my memories will not fade.
I loved you then, I love you now, my life I can not fill.
I told you when I left, I loved you, and I always will.



The meaning of a wife.
By W.T.Armstrong

When we were young we found each other, really just by chance.
I knew that you were meant for me, before the closing dance.
I played the game, I knew so well,and won your close affection.
As time went by we fell in love, our lives became perfection.

Through good and bad you stood by me, and in turn I for you.
Stand ready to defend or die, as all good men should do.
I know not what may be ahead,but know that I will be,
forever right there by your side, and you`l be there for me.

And so my love, my darling wife, I pledge my life to you
To love and cherish was the word, and nothing else will do.
No doubt in time we have to part, as do all living things,
We lived and loved and had our time,this, satisfaction brings.

We`ve done it all, we`ve raised the kids, we worked and did our best.
Grandchildren thrive in family homes, is it now time to rest?
So if, one day you see this poem, written just for you.
It will remind you, when I`m gone, I loved you straight and true.




The meaning of friends.
By W.T.Armstrong

Where are you now, I ask myself, why have I been left out.
Was it something that I said, or just a mind in doubt.
I know I was a thoughtless boy, well youngsters often are.
But must I suffer loneliness, without friends, near or far.

The goals of youth are hard to win, and friends will sometimes suffer.
Would that we were wise when young, that words we might then buffer.
But time has passed,I waited long for contact to be made,
A sign, a note, a text, a call,that loneliness might fade.

However nothing will transpire,I know the feeling well.
Another day another dollar, and a night of hell.
Tormented thoughts of days gone by, what did I do so wrong?
Are friends all that important, no I must be strong.

I`ve managed until now to live, a life that`s been complete.
I`ve not been compartmentalized although I`ve kept it neat.
Just carry on and do your best, life's weary way you wend
The devil doesn't know your here, let alone, a friend!



The meaning of childhood in 1940
By W.T.Armstrong

The back streets of a station town, the council house estate.
The miners on their way to work, I watch them from the gate.
In ragged dirty clothes they go, the hob nail boots they clatter.
Talking bold and laughing loud, as though it didn`t matter.

Returning in the evening, the tin bath by the fire.
Hung up when used for all to see, outside on walls of mire.
The scratches on their backs are tended, seams are very low.
But danger money has been paid,and so on they must go.

Some joined the forces to be free, from dirty stinking coal.
They paid the price in human life, it is a soldiers roll.
Loved ones left behind are saddened, pushing lonely prams.
When all they got from Winston, was a load of telegrams.

It`s all done now, no more mines left, when Margaret lost the plot,
No war to take the brave young men, we won`t miss that a lot.
So when it`s done and life moves on, what was it all about.
The coal, the bombs, the idle rich, I really have my doubts.

Through childhood in the wasted streets, we laughed and played in glee.
We knew not what was going on, or what was yet to be.
I guess I will just have to live, the life that is presented.
If someone could make sense of it, well...........I might die contented.



The meaning of Tina Turner.
By W.T.Armstrong.

The lights in the casino flashed, the games were in full swing.
But players gathered round the stage, when she began to sing.
Late 64 I saw here there, she looked at me and smiled,
Her head tossed back, provoking pose, feminine and wild.

The years went by til 94 I saw her once again.
A wiser and more subtle girl, now rid of her life`s pain.
She held my hand and looked again, but did not recognize.
The man standing before her now had also become wise.

We stared into each others eyes, for me there was no hope.
I longed to hold her in my arms, but that was just a joke.
Her, fame, her money, life and style, made nonsense of my game.
She`d played before, so many times, during and before fame.

I let her go, she slipped away, back stage, she gave a glance
What was it in her mind that night, that gave me one more chance.
A night of bliss with Tina, the dreams of many men.
How many came as close as me, should I try again?

guitar player available


The meaning of drudgery.
By W.T. Armstrong.

Out of bed, eyes are bleary, into bathroom,trudge feet weary.
No shave today, no time, clearly, on computer query query.
Work to do, to earn a dollar tax man vat man feeling collar.
Roundabout of life to play, lets get through another day.

Life is not a dammed rehearsal, why can I see no reversal.
Of the treadmill, trapped upon, no doubt soon I will be gone.
To a better place, they say, no choice really, nought to say.
Keep the world outside at bay, hoping for a better day.

From my window now I see, sun is shining down on me.
Lets be glad for what we`ve got, wife and children mean a lot.
So many people do depend, upon my actions, so defend.
The family home the business too, everything depends on you.

One more day, to do my best, better than the struggling rest.
One more challenge, one more fight, work and work until the night.
Keep the wheels of fortune turning, even though my heart is yearning.
For those summer days gone by, when I was a different guy.



The meaning of the pit.
By W.T.Armstrong.

Down and down the shaft we go, creaking groaning cage, so slow.
Crowded in the rusty space, other men are in my face.
Water dripping, air so bad, darkness growing, I`ll be glad.
To rush out of this cage so small, even though I`ll have to crawl.

Along the face of coal so black, always knowing, I`ll be back.
On the surface soon I hope, as through the darkness now I grope.
Through the airlock doors at last, feel the rush of air go past.
Now at least a breath of air, from the downcast shaft, is there.

Better face the dust and grime,than to suffocate, in time.
On the face with other workers, getting coal no room for shirkers.
Drilling, blasting, see us run, to the refuge holes, what fun.
Back we go with pick and shovel, through the dust, the stones and rubble.

In go props with wedges too, hold the roof up good and true.
Now the coal comes to the top, up the shaft, black diamond crop.
Hard won relics of the past, get it now it can not last.
Trees it was, way back then, now hewn out by iron men.

Black as coal ourselves by now, straining, sweating,what a row.
Then up we come, safe at last, through the rain or wind blown blast.
In the showers with the lads, friends and uncles even dads.
Like new pins we all emerge, wait for mates on grassy verge.

Then off home the shift is done, 15 tons by everyone.
Other men now take the cage, there turn now to feel the rage.
Of the demons in the mine, I don`t worry they`l be fine.
Hard as nails they make their way, I`ll be back another day.



The meaning of a blacksmith.
By W.T.Armstrong.

Ivy round the anville grows, tongs are also in repose.
Swages, fullers, rusting too, no more need for me or you.
Modern times, bring modern things, moves along like birds on wings.
Speeding on the micro chip, brings an end to human grip.

No need now for men of skill, working with a thinking will.
Machines are here, computers rule, craftsman looks just like a fool.
Heat it, bend it, use the last, don`t need you now, your time is past.
Foolish words, from foolish boys, playing with computer toys.

What`s to do when oil is gone, nothing to rely upon.
No energy to turbines turn, no one left so you can`t learn.
What is needed to survive, skill-less people never thrive.
Press the switch, it will not work,do you now run to the kirk?

You let the skills of life decline, just bought a new one every time.
Don`t try and fix it, throw it out, you don`t have time to mess about.
No tools, no kit, no manly trait, maybe you deserve your fate.
But don`t give up, or twist your face, on you depends the human race.




The meaning of memories and thought.
By W.T.Armstrong.

The corners of a broken heart, hold days of happiness.
When life was sweet and summers long, with no such thing as stress.
I walked the fields and lonely places, rain and windswept too.
A mongrel dog, my only friend, steadfast, straight and true.

As time went by the dog grew old, I moved to other things.
Prioritizing, incorrectly, other offerings.
But looking back, I had no choice, we are what we are bred.
Genetics can not be denied, the`r with us till we`r dead.

Do not believe surroundings changed, the way you are today.
They play a part there is no doubt, but genes will have their way.
Think about it long enough, enlightenment may come.
Behavioural changes, may arise, set you apart from some.

Misunderstood, don`t waste your time, do not try to explain.
No one cares or understands your constant nagging pain.
Your council keep unto yourself, why make another wise.
The pictures of your inner mind are for no others eyes.

Who cares what fools and others think, the human race is doomed.
The world now sanctions dolts to breed, extinction really looms.
No longer is survival made the way that was intended.
That only fit and healthy breed, are you now offended.

Have you thought why this is so, do you take my word.
The steady human race decline, started with the sword.
Now any man can arm himself, continuing the sequel.
Propagated even more, when Colt made all men equal.

The government protects the louts with officers of law.
No man can now defend himself, it`s really quite a bore.
So move away, to country life, where common-sense still reigns.
The lonely places are the best, for sanity regained.



The meaning of family.
By W.T.Armstrong.

My sister visited today, she lives a little far away.
To visit every other day, but such is life, come what may.
No time to talk, no points of view, it`s time to go, be seeing you.
The distance grows, it`s more than miles, I can not see behind the smiles.

I know not what is going on, with blood so close, relations gone.
My fault I know, I should have tried, much harder, to my feelings hide.
Age upon us both is creeping, no time left for family weeping.
Live what`s left, ther`s no tomorrow, no time now for bygone sorrow.

Parents that were less than clever, did their best, forget them never.
Dragged up on the village streets, off to war, life incomplete.
Teenage wedding, far to young, incompatible, but strong.
If time could be for once rewound, we might now stand on different ground.



The meaning of bills.
By W.T.Armstrong

I paid my bills by cheque today, the only way I know.
I posted them, across the road, just watch the money go.
No sooner is the cash received than out it goes again.
None left for me, no life to live, it really is a pain.

Electric, Gas, council tax, rates and others too.
All require payment, before the`r overdue.
The threatening letter, debt collector, all will have there say.
It means the same, no matter what, it`s you that has to pay.

You work all day and half the night, no rest for you just yet.
You have to make some money, on that, your life you`l bet.
The credit card, the mortgage payment round the corner wait.
The tax man sent his henchmen out, the`r standing at the gate.

It`s` just like in the days gone by, the noble lord came round.
He poked about, looked here and there until your hens he found.
Then off he goes with half your stock, your taxes you have paid.
He even took out half the eggs, your preciouses hens had laid.

The same applies today you know and lyrical may you wax.
No difference will you make at all, they once had window tax.
You now pay when you take your pay, again then, when you buy.
How long must you put up with this, until the day you die.

There`s one thing certain in this life you come you live you go.
But government is always here, the idle rich you know.
They make out laws that you must heed, it is for your own good.
I don`t believe a word of it and nor did Robin Hood.

A time will come when men will stand, and some will say, no more.
Reduce these taxes that we pay, even up the score.
We`r sick of paying through the nose for you to waste and lose.
Get your act together now, we see well through your roués.

Reduce your wages, take out less, bring work, for the people.
Why is it that good churchmen true, don`t shout it from their steeple.
No backbone left, industry gone, nothing left to make.
Your on your own mate, no one cares, let them all eat cake.



The meaning of weather.
By W.T.Armstrong

How are you doing, world today.
Will the sun come out to play.
Or is rain back on the cards.
Washing down the old back yards.

Good for plants and ducks with wings.
I like the rain it`s growing things.
Too much sun will parch the ground.
Dry the soil, this I have found.

Anyway, I don`t care, I never go out anywhere.
Just a stay at home am I, drinking bear, eating pie.
Watching telly, on the couch, I really am an awful grouch.
No mates to call no friends to see, nothing ever pleases me.

The wind is blowing quite a gale, pedestrians looking very pale.
Collars high against the wind, brollies flying, the`l be binned.
Then again it`s looking bright, is that the sun I see in sight.
Out she comes the wet is dry, what a day, my oh my.



The meaning of a wedding anniversary.
By W.T.Armstrong

What treasures can we find today?
To help us on our lifelong way.
No matter what we have to do,
I know I can rely on you.

Your there beside me thick or thin,
We do our best all day to win.
As we have done so in the past,
There never was a doubt we`d last.

Through the tests of time, we stand,
Side by side, hand in hand.
Pyramids and mountains crumble,
Windswept seas with thunder rumble.

But our love goes on forever,
Flame eternal, die out never.
White and pure, just like a dove.
Never ending life of love.



The meaning of a TT rider.
By W.T.Armstrong

The way you spent your youth will tell, when older you become.
You lived your life upon the edge, no stay at home, like some.
And now it`s time to pay the price, of teenage days gone by.
When minds were set on unwise games, that sometimes let men die.

Those days are gone and so are they that played the games with you.
They dwindled down as time went on and now there`s very few.
The bold went first, the timid last, but some got by, by chance.
The fateful finger did not point, and life you did enhance.

Your borrowed time is still as sweet, and inside your still young.
You think you`l have a second chance, before the bell is rung.
But really, that time`s over now, lets leave it for the kids.
They lap much faster than you could and don`t get into skids.

The bike will still be here, when you are down the road.
The young will laugh at your machine and will each other goad.
But can they ride it like you did, in leathers worn and torn.
When Castrol R blew in the wind, and mark eights then were worn.

You raced from flag to flag to beet, the time the others set.
You laughed and joked about the ride, when once again you met.
The chance you took, the slide you had, the flat out quarry bend.
A section where you rode it blind, the place you lost a friend.

Was it worth it,? I don`t know, It seemed so at the time.
You gave up friends, your job, your life, some said it was a crime.
What`s done is done, the finger writes and having writ moves on.
And nothing now can bring it back, those days have long since gone.

So goodnight all of you that live, inside you head like me.
No good dwelling here too long, your still alive and free.
Let`s have another go at life, in normal lanes, I know.
At least you lived life to the full, a long long time ago.




The meaning of time.
By W.T.Armstrong.

Another bloody year gone by, another bloody line.
Another bloody hair gone grey, well on your head not mine.
Why is youth wasted on the young, I cry in bloody rage?
Why can we not more agile be, in our advancing age?

The years go by, as they should do, no reason and no rhyme.
Advancing, moving pointers turn, not only to tell time.
The turning earth runs round the sun, the moon and stars do too.
In turn they age, a trillion years, so what`s a year to you?

It`s just another measurement, provided by creation.
Another pointless exercise, arranged for recreation.
So worry not that time goes by,and age upon you creeps.
At least your still alive and well, but life is not for keeps.

Your time will come as sure as sure, for no man is immortal.
Unless you find the secret door, the timeless moving portal.
Da vinci`s code is what you need, you might then find the way.
Il`l see you on the other side, maybe, some fine day.



The meaning of past affairs of the heart.
By W.T.Armstrong.

I rummage through the cupboards dust, to find the object is a must.
Then in the corned I do spy, a paper bundle piled quite high.
The letters are all from the past, expounding of a love to last.
All new to me I must admit, withheld from view for quite a bit.

I have seen some in days gone by, but some are new I do not lie.
Concealed from me for some deception, never got the right reception.
Never mind I have them now, I read them and at once I vow.
To right the wrong that was once done, you poor girl you should have won.

If letters had been with me then, I would have answered, using pen.
Of course by now it is too late, I should have met them at the gate.
What`s done is done and time has past, I read them now, with love at last.
They were withheld I think by peers, in the dark for fifty years.

I read again with fond regard, the ink the paper and the card.
So many words not read before , no longer wasted in locked drawer.
I am so sorry, no one wins, please forgive me for my sins.
Your letters here are safe with me, no one else will have the key.

Only you and I will know, what you wrote so long ago.
And if you see this poem by chance and recognize with fleeting glance.
The letters in the picture shown, you can of course these letters own.
Just contact me, address above, I will return them all, with love.

These letter bring back to my heart, a time before we had to part.
I can not read them any more, they now lay scattered on the floor.
Around my feet in disarray, if only there had been a way.
To keep you, when you once were mine, for now, I kiss the name you sign.







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