Team Hope Posties celebrating in the sunshine

Team Hope Posties celebrating in the sunshine

Team Hope Posties celebrating in the sunshine 

Poems written by Eileen Ward Birch

 photo of Eileen Ward Birch

One day

One day
I'll hold you in my arms
One day
I'll gaze into your eyes
One day
I'll tell you of my love
One day
When we meet
One day
You'll have me in your arms
One day
You'll look into my eyes
One day
You'll tell me how you feel
One day
When we meet 


Wednesbury 28/04/20

A dog’s life

Oh, I do love to sit here in the sun half asleep; this is the life.
There’s Tammy from next door with one of her offspring; I’m surprised she manages to keep going after so many pregnancies. All skin and grief she is. Time something was done to help her.
Ah the kiddies are off to school, so I can settle in for a nice peaceful day, no teasing, no chasing.
Mmm, so warm. I think I’ll have a little doze under the tree. I can remember when I used to climb that tree, no problem, but I was a lot younger then and Flo was around to play alongside me.
I’ll just close my eyes for a minute and imagine I’m catching fish in that pond down the road.
What’s that noise?
Sounds like the guy who killed our Flo with his motorbike. Poor lass, she was just trotting across the road to meet me and wham!
She was a mess and I couldn’t get anybody to listen at first, not till it was too late.
My twin sister; we’d been together all our lives; being together is what kept us young, that and a loving family. Now she’s gone, buried; I can hardly remember what she looked like.
He never even stopped, him on the bike, but stopping wouldn’t bring her back, would it?
That's a pretty butterfly, I wonder if I can catch it.  Missed again, never mind, there'll be another along soon, if I can keep awake.
A police car, you don’t see many of those around here these days, he must be on overtime.
There’s that skinny woman from up the street, with her bawling sprog.
Time to fetch the kids from school already, my how an afternoon in the garden flies, especially when you spend most of it asleep. There they go, mothers walking along, taking no notice of their kids, even when they run all over other people’s gardens.
I think I’ll go get something to eat; no rest for the wicked, as mom says.
It’s a dog’s life, being a cat.


Little poem about the benches in the centre of Bilston.

The sunrise bench 

On the sunrise bench, Josh waits.
Opening time an hour away.
So, he sits quietly waiting,
Watching the world go by.
Old Toby is there talking.
Nobody listens, not even Josh,
But still Toby talks and Josh nods.
Next along is baggy Maggie
Shopping bags full of bargains.
Market goods, not Morrisons.
She is not a young woman
Sits grateful for midday rest.

Under the risen sun, a youth,
Who should be in school,
Stuffs a pasty into his maw
And dreams of football glory.
Liz, a mate of Maggies,
Stops to give the latest news.
A friend has died, another’s sick
Nothing new under the sun,
Even a yellow painted one.

People come and go
And so does time.
Toby and Josh spot the open pub
And silently, move in harmony
Towards the first pint of the day.

The Spider

I am a little spider
I sit above the door
You always try to stamp on me
As I run across the floor

I watch you when you’re dressing
When you brush and comb your hair
I look when you are bathing
The overflow’s my lair

And when you sit upon the loo
From beneath the seat I come
I reach out with my tiny feet
And tickle your bare bum.

I’m a Celebrity, get me out of here.

I’m famous for being famous, you know.
I won on Big Brother a year ago
The crowds applauded when I dropped my towel,
Showed off my assets to one and all.
I don’t sing great love songs, or even a rap.
I’m not a great actress, my acting’s crap.
As for my dancing, well that’s a joke.
Maybe I’m famous for being broke.
I don’t have a talent, well not one you see.
Famous for being famous, that’s me.
I’m a celebrity, get me out of here.

My husband’s other love

She came to him deflowered and prepared
Behind the school bike shed.
From the moment she touched his lips
He fell in love and has remained
Faithfull to this other love.

Time went on and though we married
Created home and family
He stayed the poor bewitched addict
Of his constant other love

When he told me that he wanted
To let her go at last, I believed
But she was stronger than I could ever be
She dominates his life and always will,
Lady tobacco.

Selly Oak NNS
Heart of England Foundation Trust
Brum Recovery Fund