A PIECE OF HOLEY CHEESE
 
 
 
I’m a saint in waiting
Yearning to be good
Yet I’m flawed
Far more than holey cheese
 
They say I have no mercy
Oh, how true!
I can’t abide
The  flakey chocolate people.
 
Yet when teardrops fall
Like rain
From another’s eyes
I quickly lend my shoulder.
 
I have my pride
It’s like an oak tree strong.
As a soldier, ram rod stiff
It marches me along
Unbending.
 
Humility’s a stranger from afar
Another’s feet will never tread
Across my body or my soul
I’ll never be another’s lackey
 
That vision of a saintly me
Is mouldering  in the refuse can,
Because I’m just a piece holey of cheese.
However hard I try,
I can never plug the holes
 
Ó Gwen Leane
 
 
 
 


Ó
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 SPACE
Space to roam free
Where thoughts soar as an eagle
In a blue sunlight sky
Where depression finds no kin

Space where the outlook is broad
When self can expand and enlarge
Where attitude is unfettered, unbiased
When awareness of being grows and blooms

Space filled with virile ideas
Thought flowers in a broadened mind;
Success becomes the product of the soul
Enlightened by freedom of thought

Inner space of mind and soul
Cannot be imprisoned
It is a place where none can invade
The mind, an inner citadel



Gwenneth Leane  ©



 

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Like a river, time flows by
There to lie
In history’s lake

Like sediment it settles
Awaiting to be fished
From the depths of memory

To be revisited
And times recalled
Both sad and glad

Finally, to be let go
And left to rot and be forgot
By another generation.
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Gwenneth Leane

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