2016/17 | 2015 | 2014 | 2013 | Very old stuff


Dear Santa

© Louisa Reid, 23/11/2015

Dear Santa, I'm writing a letter to you, I'm thinking about what I need
I'm told I need to let you know and you'll get it here with some speed!

This month is January, I'm giving notice so you can make it arrive
If it's too too soon I really don't care... I'm sure you'll really strive!

It's February now, I'm writing again, I don't want you to forget
'Cos it's getting nearer, you can come here - I'll see you real close, I bet!

Today is now the start of March... this seems to take very long
But I am a waiter, pretty real good and I know that I don't get you wrong

Dear Santa, it's April, this time is too slow - do you read whatever I write?
I'm feeling depressed - you're still in my mind, I'd always thought that you might

Hey Santa, it's May, I've got to tell you that I want to change what I'll get...
I think it's late but I know you're quick, and I know I'll get it without fret

Dear Santa, do you know this date? It's June, I don't think you know!
Please, dear Santa, stop messing round! And stop being just so slow!

Santa, it's July, it's far too wrong since you've messed me right around
This might be a letter, Santa, my man, but I have never heard a sound!

Santa, August here is cold, I'm shut in the house but keep watch
I know that I'll see you very soon - and I don't expect you will botch.

Christmas tree

Now it's September, I've never had a response and I think it's far too late
I'm feeling real sad if I never see you - I used to think you're great

Santa, it's October, it's far too long, I don't think I need to write again
I told you I really wanted to see you but I'm capping up my pen

Dear Santa, I just need to say goodbye - it's November and I had a bet
But I've never seen you ever at all - I think I'll be in debt.

Oh Santa! Now it's December! You've put my gift under the tree!
You heard all what I said to you and gave me the thing just for me!

Thank you, Dear Santa - I truly love you!!! I'm sure I can go out to play!
Merry Christmas Santa, with all my love - you've really made my day!

Back to menu

If I Were a Rich Man

From my long years as a volunteer at Drury Lane Theatre where I grew up, I had heard the music so many times from the show "Fiddler on the Roof". The song "If I Were a Rich Man" always got me singing with it. I recently heard it again - so this time it lead into a warble of being rich, whether men or women.


If I were a rich man... I'd think I'm lucky
Just turn off thoughts of this
I'm not a man
I'm not ever rich
I'd like, though, to live on in bliss!

My name's not Fiddler (though sometimes I wish)
I've never been on a roof
Except when I built
My own first home...
The sale was a burden of proof!

If I was a woman... that's gender correct...
Do I turn this saying off too?
I've got female breasts
And other women stuff
But I'm treated like I said "I do"

I used my brain many years ago
I'd tested okay most times
If I was thoughtful
Thinking ahead
I'm not sure I'd still use these rhymes!


My name's not May or Jane or Kate
I changed what I was called long ago
Except not a bitch
And not radical
(But definitely feminist though!)

I walk every day - at least, I should...
My present memory's just passed!
I sometimes read
And often I write
I think I've done more than was asked!

My weeks fly on, I've got much to do
I'm living my life still quite bold
Just scars on my head
My feet are flat
And my body feels like fool's gold!

Back to menu

Living Alone

In February last year I had written a poem about an elderly woman. This month I wrote a similar thing - maybe it's about me!

I'm living alone, just stuck inside
I feel betrayed - I've lost my pride
I've got no cash, my car is old
Inside I get hot - but outside is cold
Nowhere to go, no-one to see
Whose here in my world? It's really just me...
I'm an old woman, I'm living alone
My life is near end... I'm just on my own
But think with me, what's life ahead?
Do I need anyone who'll disavow death?
I'm living alone - my pride does exist!
It's inside of me - I didn't desist!
How you treat me shouldn't box me in
My life is short, no deadly sin
When I'm due to die hear me say
I always loved you - I'll be there in your day

Back to menu

I Understand

I discovered Shelagh Brennand's launch of her poetry book called "A Stroke of Poetry" ©, which is written about her own language problem following her stroke. That is so much like my problem! "I Understand" was published on Facebook when she advertised the launch.

Please don't talk to me in "baby talk"
It really isn't good.
Even though the words may not come out right
Be clear... I understood

Please don't finish all my sentences
When you talk to me this way.
I know you wish I'd hurry up
So we can get on with the day.

Even though my words are jumbled
And I slur to get them out
Inside, I know what I want to say
Give me time and please don't shout.

It's important for me to process
What I think I want to tell
Even though when the words are spoken
They may not come out too well.

Buckets of patience I know you'll need
To help me through this time
But please, oh please be mindful
They are not your words but mine.

I know my brain will get better
But you have to give me space.
Having a conversation
Does not need to be a race.

Sometimes I may not want to join in
What anyone has to say
But that's OK, I do not mind
As my brain needs a rest today.

Back to menu

Have you...?

Scarborough beach
Just over one year ago, after getting out of hospital, I moved to Redcliffe area. I like it. The poem written today explores many of the feelings that I have. Have you?

Have you seen the sun shining out on the beach?
Have you felt the water drifting round your feet?
Have you sailed the harbour, rowed the waves?
Have you sat outside in rain, knew it came to save?
Have you walked the beach path, been round to the head?
Have you watched the marina boats, tied up instead?
Have you been out when tide's drifted out to sea?
Have you stood out there looking, no fish to flee?
Have you sat in a cafe with a group or alone?
Have you stared past the harbour, watched seagulls flown?
Have you looked across and seen Glass mounts?
Have you looked out to Moreton, seen boats to count?
Have you swum in summer, felt water so warm?
Have you fished off the wharf with jellyfish in swarm?
Have you played on the beach - maybe kids and a ball?
Have you sat under trees, really loved it all?
Here's my answer to all questions I've asked -
Don't wait, don't miss it, don't let it get past.
Enjoy this town, it's yours to share ...
LIVE your future ... just get out there!

Back to menu

Naming of Cats

T S Elliot Way, way back, in 1988, my kids and I came over to Aus to see the show "Cats" in Melbourne. I absolutely loved it. This show was based on T S Elliot's poems from Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats. This one is my favourite, and was sung in "Cats".

The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
It isn't just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I'm as mad as a hatter
When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.
First of all, there's the name that the family use daily,
Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James,
Such as Victor or Jonathan, or George or Bill Bailey -
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames:
Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter -
But all of them sensible everyday names.
But I tell you, a cat needs a name that's particular,
A name that's peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?
Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,
Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum -
Names that never belong to more than one cat.
But above and beyond there's still one name left over,
And that is the name that you never will guess;
The name that no human research can discover -
But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.
When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name.

Back to menu


20 August 2015 - For quite a time, when I had my V-Star motorbike, I was riding around the north Brisbane area where mountains, streams and bush lived. I loved it. This is a small poem to remind myself of the stuff I have seen.


Back to menu

Real Love

10 July 2015 - This month I met up with Peninsula Poets group and I love it! Ready for the August meeting we had three different poetry sunjects we could do. I have chosen the "Why was the bride late" and, next up, the "Media Manner". Enjoy!

May and Fred were dating one time, they fell in love together
They met every day, they ate and played and ignored any cold weather
When Fred proposed she was so most happy, they set up an excellent date
They planned and saved and booked all they'd need - just a short time to wait

The day arrived - they'd separated 'cos he couldn't see her just yet
She'd dress up and make up, she'd go in a car, they'd marry when she'd there get
She woke on the morning, real early, she thought, now she needed to dress
She climbed in the shower, turned it on... no water! She felt like a mess!

She damped her flannel in her jug of water, she wiped it over her bod
She got - just a little - around her legs; not too bad, she thought, not too odd
Back to her bedroom she tried to get dressed, she threw on deo and scent
Her hair bobbed around, it couldn't be done! She sighed and groaned and mad went

Still, she got ready, she rang to the car - she knew that it wasn't her own
"Don't worry," they said, "we're on our way." And she was left alone
She waited and looked and looked and waited, her patience had no deal
When the car drove in, the driver got out and swore and kicked the wheel!

"It's flat!" he said, "I need to change it!" He took off his jacket to begin...
The mud from the wheel spat back at him, hit his face, and he yelled his curses at heaven
He turned it and rolled it and grumped every time, but he got it off with his bar
And he put on the new tyre - also white, it was - replaced and looked a new car

Finally he'd finished it - she was definitely late - she just wanted to get out to Fred
He'd asked her to marry him, she had agreed, but this day was turning her head
She told the driver he couldn't clean up, her house was out of all water
Herself, she didn't even feel very clean, the shower had seemed like her oughta

She was a mess, the driver wasn't clean - in fact he looked like a dirt gem
She felt her laughter bubbling up her throat... uncontrolled it burst out at him
He looked pretty mad, then he started to laugh, they giggled and rolled everywhere
And when they stopped they climbed into the car and drove to her wedding, not near

This story, my listeners, just finished like this: Fred was horrified, he could see her
But when he knew how she'd ended up like that, he threw his clothes onto the floor
"Oh May, just marry me! I want us together," he whispered, "I love you."
And when May saw how great her hubbie would be... "I do," she said... "I do!"

Back to menu

Tremor Weather

1 July 2015 - 10 years ago the climate in this country seemed to be great. It didn't seem to take too long before the rain started. 2009, 2011, 2013 and this year, 2015. Every two years? Maybe. This year the summer was so hot, but I do know that it was hot a few years ago. Trouble is, the world temperatures are getting up. And up and up. Climate Change is a group in Australia which could - should - be supported. I do.

A few years ago I came over here, I'd never been to Bris SEQ...
I wanted to live here - I bought a house, and I had a wonderful view.

I rode my bike and lead large groups round suburbs and past the beach;
Nothing was too various, it was so easy, and everything we could reach!

Barbecues, take aways, summer food was just so wonderfully devine!
We clicked our glasses in our large group, to celebrate our lovely red wine.

The sun was warm, there was no cold, summer seemed to go on each day...
Maybe just a little rain to water the garden before it returned to rays.

But it started to change, the rain got heavy, I sat in my house and felt sad.
I couldn't ride out, I couldn't play games, I knew I'd become almost mad!

The sun would come and shine again, I'd think it was great to go out,
But as soon as I went out the rain clouds came back; I began to doubt.

I changed my fun, I stayed back inside, most new things kept me engrossed...
I painted, I read, I played chess, but everything became pre- to post-.

My friends slowly vanished, never called on me, they stayed inside their homes,
They hated the rain, it had become too heavy, there was nowhere now to roam.

The rain finally stopped, but it was now very cold - a winter in SEQ.
I turned on my heater, stood in front of it, wore socks to keep my feet not blue.

But later the year it warmed up a tad, became so lovely dry days
And the flowers budded, just drew me outside, to look at anything out my way!

I had no idea how hot it would get... but weather decided to fool me
And the summer just scorched, got up to 40, we stayed inside airing arm and knee.

Two months of this, it drove me around, I just wanted to ride my bike!
But it was far too hot, rarely enjoying this, nothing I remembered just like.

In New Zealand I used to ride a bit, it was far too cold in the winter
Yet Aus, when I came, seemed to be very different - I had loved it, so much better.

I looked on Google and found something real - Climate Change, it was really called.
I checked it out, they spoke the truth, this weather was changing, I was appalled!

It took some research to find out truth about the weather all around
Wikipaedia had lot of information, but I had to read it without any sound.

"Climate change may refer to average weather conditions, or in the time variation of weather"
I read it, passed it on, found out more, read that, shared it on altogether.

So what happened a couple of years ago? Is it still raining in this land?
Has it changed this year, is it getting hot and cold? Well, there is just a band!

In April this year there was an Earth Day, and a band played on to help
If this works, if people believe, climate might turn around, you can no longer yelp.

What do you believe in? What do you trust? The weather? The hot? The cold?
Pick the group up in front who knows about it - they're showing they're really bold.

Just trust in Climate Change, believe it people... it's really giving some future guides.
I plan, in the future, to get me a bike - a V-Star, I love how this rides!

Back to menu

Keep Going (Don't Quit)

27 June 2015 - Looking through some very old papers yesterday I found a copy of "Don't Quit". My copy did not include the third verse off this one, possibly because it came from a feminist group. There was no author named on this, so I decided to try Googling to see who had written it. It seems that it had become a real fight in at least one webpage, which I found very interesting. One person claimed to have written it in the late 1990s, someone else said they had written it in 1989, others said that Alice Zimmerman had written it in the 1940s, and the best argument said that Edgar A. Guest had written it in 1921, with copies of the newspaper posted in the public domain because of the age. Personally, I accept most of what this last person had written, as well as a copy of what he said was "Breakfast Table Chat" in the local papers. Could it have been earlier than that? Yes, it could have, but this one, regardless of who actually is the author, means so much to me. Please read it - and don't wonder who other than Edgar A. Guest wrote it!

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
And the road you're trudging seems all up hill.
When the funds are low and the debts are high
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh;
When care is pressing you down a bit,
Rest if you must - but don't you quit.

Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As every one of us sometimes learns.
And many a failure turns about
When he might have won had he stuck it out.
Don't give up, though the pace seems slow,
You may succeed with another blow.

Often the goal is nearer than
It seems to a faint and faltering man.
Often the struggler has given up
When he might have captured the victor's cup,
And he learned too late when the night slipped down
How close he was to the golden crown.

Success is failure turned inside out,
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt,
And you never can tell how close you are.
It may be near when it seems afar,
So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit
It's when things seem worst that you mustn't quit.

Back to menu

Brain Aneurysms SUX!

19 June 2015 - Some times when I am not really thinking of a poem, I will remember a song which happened many years ago in my own youth. This particular song, "Do Your Ears Hang Low", seemed perfect for a blast against aneurysms - it should be fun! Try singing this to that music (look at the You Tube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pCvtGSO59oI, not quite long but just go on!) and I think it will work you up just like it did to me!

Did you feel like your head was really bad in pain?
Did you feel like you had a thunderclap up there?
Do you lose your sight, did you faint to the floor?
Oh your brain aneurysm SUX!

Did you end up lying in a hospital
In a theatre where a crew worked on you?
Did they cut you open and fiddled round your brain?
Oh your brain aneurysm SUX!

Did they sew you up, did they staple your head?
Were you black and blue in an ICU?
Did you come around and see your carer?
Oh your brain aneurysm SUX!

And did you go on home when this was all over?
Did you recover or did you stay behind?
Did you end up in a BIRU for long?
Oh your brain aneurysm SUX!

Now have you recovered, finished and back to work?
Are you living on and your scar has all fixed up?
Or are you behind where you were, not recovered properly?
Oh your brain aneurysm SUX!

In the future we need to find out how we need to live
We need some strength in our brain and within our thoughts
In the future, if neuro hasn't beat on this
Then your brain aneurysm SUX!

Back to menu

Sleep Came

27 May 2015 - Throughout my after-operation period I have often felt covered and chased by my stroke. I sometimes feel so bad and all alone. I need anyone, but I don't feel that I have anyone. This is not written in rhyming ballad, it is me telling my thoughts. This is fairly deep for most people who have never had these sort of thoughts. How do you feel?

I need to sleep.
Do you believe me?
Have you ever listened when I talk about me?
Or them? Or him? Or her?
I don't think you know what is wrong
with me, or them, or him or her.
I remember Uncle Brian dying from epileptic seizure
but I never believed in it.
I didn't listen.
Killed, I thought. Had to be.
Like them, him, her killed.
So many years ago, what was known about his epilepsy?
What do doctors know about my aneurysm?
Do they care?
Do you?
Would you rather I died? Am killed? By whom?
Them? Him? Her?
Or me?
So much peace, in death, no-one has to stay awake
or alive, never in a coma.
Sleep is forever. Do you ever think of that?
Aneurysm. Brain. Size. Ruptured. Haemorrhage.
Stroke stroke stroke.
Brain or language or physical stuff. Or shut down completely.
Different life. Who is different?
Oh geez, I so need to sleep, to stay asleep, to die.
Really. Please, don't believe me. Or do believe me.
Or listen to me.
Or them or him or her.
I don't think you know what is wrong
with me, or them, or him or her.

Back to menu

The Web Report

25 May 2015 - Most days I would post new information to our BASA Facebook page, and this time I found something which was not exactly about aneurysms, but it talked about "funny" stuff and called them "Funny Aneurysm Moments" How do you see this?

I recently saw a web-site report which covered all about me
I was - apparently - amused at stuff; I'd giggle and laugh in glee.

If it wasn't too funny I'd giggle anyway, I didn't see it was bad...
Or unreal or unintentional or just plain stupid, or what others saw as sad.

Having a laugh wasn't obvious to me - I'd had a rupture and stroke...
6.5 weeks in BIRU would certainly turn my funny side right off.

Was it because I'd got out of there, was I laughing to keep me sane?
Did I even know I wasn't all okay? Was laughing not in my brain?

How had my aneurysm worked? Was it clipped, coiled, right or left?
Had it bled? Was it fixed? If I'd had a stroke was it meant to be part of my death?

When had I started laughing, really? When did I giggle at weird stuff?
I certainly remember not even talking, perhaps thinking I'd known enough!

This web-site report, which looked us all over, could never had known my brain
Yet the whole article here, after I'd actually read it, told me I was insane...

Well, insane because most other people would never have had their ABI -
They were well, not bad, just not unhappy, but not laughing at anything okay.

But anyways, I think this is pretty good, that I laugh most days rather than cry
And I really hope that people are on my sense of humour - rather than asking me WHY?

Back to menu


30 March 2015 - I wrote quite a bit on Facebook, but often people wouldn't 'like' my post so I had no idea if anyone was reading them. This poem is for them!

Hello? Hello? Are you out there today?
I listened, I watched, but didn't see what you'd say.
On Facebook? Just a tick? Do you 'like' it or walk?
On Twitter, perhaps, which allows you to talk!
Do you answer with words? Do you speak your own mind?
Have an argument? That'd be fine unless you're in a bind.
Or perhaps with your language - do you speak with your friends?
Are you on Instagram? Do you 'postit' to send?
What are your favourites? Do you follow other folks?
Do you tick what they put up or find out they're gone, broke?
Hello? Hello? Are you out there today?
*Sigh*... I'm tired of trying to read just what you will say.

Back to menu

What do you know?

3 January 2015 - I started to write a bit more this year, getting back into my "thing". I did a lot of searching throughout Google mostly for my admin volunteering for the Brain Aneurysm Support Australia (BASA) group. This one is another about my aneurysm, and Google I used to find information on it.

Does your aneurysm lie in your brain or need surgery? Is it very slow or does it seem tough?
Have you had it repaired with a neurosurgeon? Does it break you down and seems pretty rough?

Are you keeping yourself fit? Are you forgetting your words? Are you looking out for it day to day?
Do you know how it's gone? Is it pulling you down? Do you lie in a hospital or stay away?

What's the history about this little brain thing? What size is it? Is your brain living in bliss?
Are you too old - or are you too young? Do you know anything about this?

Did this come in your body when you were born? Or did it happen many years on?
Were you thirty, or forty? Maybe fifty or sixty? Are you here or are you truly gone?

This aneurysm tries to be out of our knowledge. It seems only neuros are aware.
They keep their info in a "secret folder" where they can hide it from us and our stare.

We have to Google any brain foundation to see who collects so much advice.
And, if we are ready, if our brain is still working, we hope all our facts are concise.

For me, this aneurysm is a really bad deal. Who knows when it will come to you?
How will you handle yourself with it? Will you know what to do through and through?

This is coming to us, this is a loner aneurysm which comes into one's own head.
Just learn about it if you can Google every day, and being alive is so much better than dead.

Back to menu