Yes, simple as that, anything.

Pithy rhyme:

In this world in which we live, we either take or give, our motives selfish and inward, or selfless and outward, and we, full of loving concern, not demanding in return, for it’s all about others, one’s fellow sisters and brothers, and hence how happiness is found, and a life that is well and sound.

Here's another way of putting things:

Push LOVE and TRUTH out the door and in skips
coldness, darkness, falsehood, deception, treachery and hopelessness.
Push LAW and BOUNDARIES out the door and in skips
anarchy, evil, corruption, villainy, insolence and contempt.
Push MORALS and PRINCIPLES out the door and in skips
depravity, degeneracy, thoughtlessness, dishonourableness, scandal and shame.
Push COMPASSION and MERCY out the door and in skips
insensitivity, callousness, unfairness, abuse, cruelty and injustice.
Push WISDOM and THOUGHT out the door and in skips
folly, error, misfortune, hurt, injury and regret.
Push ETIQUETTE and MANNERS out the door and in skips
rudeness, cheek, disrespect, offence, unsophistication and embarrassment.
Push CHARITY and KINDNESS out the door and in skips
selfishness, miserliness, greed, indifference, hardheartedness and meanness.
Push TRANSPARENCY and HONESTY out the door and in skips
crookedness, skulduggery, deceit, pretence, lies and fraudulence.

What to say when the blues come knocking:

I'm busy.
I'm just on my way out for a walk.
I'm caught up helping someone.
I'm in the middle of an inspirational book.

How to leave this world:

With a clear conscience;
A clean record;
A short memory-cum-forgiving heart;
A pair of well used helping hands, loving arms, visiting legs and supportive shoulders;
And with a firm hope.

Regarding plans:

Plans can only create a different world, not a better world, for only changed hearts and minds can achieve the latter — a turning from wrong to right, from selfishness to selflessness, and from falsehood to truth. So mind any plans, for who knows whose plans they might really be, and for what disguised end, as there are always those behind the scene.

Can you better this?

A long sensible sentance using words that all start with the same letter.

any mature married men midst mindless, moronic, mystifying mental moments make monumental mistakes maritally, maddeningly.

Too true:

It's nice to say, "I love you," but it will really only mean something when it's more than just words.


1.  Open The Door

Open the door to love, seat it at the head of your table, place it on a throne,
And let it reign unhindered, steal the show, call the shots, save the day and set the tone.
Yes, let love direct your heart, take the wheel, circle each day on your calendar too,
That it may pave the way, heal some wound, bridge some gulf, and pursue the right avenue.

Oh yes, let love stalk the wayward, scale any wall, pull back the curtains, scent the air,
Surround each crib and farewell each casket, hover tenderly where there’s any tear.
Yes, let love choose the right time and place, even words, arrange the notes in every tune,
Thus taking you and I to greater heights via an all-embracing hot air balloon.

By Lance Landall

2.  Off With The Cover

Off with the cover and let love glow, let love bask, its beauty clear for all to see,
For it's not meant to be hidden or withheld, but displayed and shared generously.
So place love at the forefront, hit it with the spotlight, applaud with vigour and verve,
Allowing it to leave its autograph, energise sinew, tissue, bone and nerve.

Yes, pop the corks, raise the trumpets, announce love’s arrival with gusto and fanfare,
Let it waltz amongst the throng leaving its passion and lasting fragrance everywhere.
Yes, give love the floor, roll out the podium, don love with a kingly crown and robe,
That it may govern every heart, capture each day, and ceaselessly circle the globe.

By Lance Landall

3.  Let It! Let It! Let It! 

Yes, let love sneak through open windows and doors, duck and dive down any chimney,
And waffle its warming way from room to room blessing the entire family.
Let it breeze its way ’round the garden, let it tickle each flower in its bed,
Rustle each leaf with enthusiastic intention, and then, paint the town red.

Yes, let love throw itself about with gay abandon, prance down each street and lane,
Saunter in and out of every dwelling, and glide across every field and plain.
Let it tug at the heart of every living soul, smile at any creature too,
And forever and ever leave its calling card, or at least a little clue.

By Lance Landall

4.  Wherever You Might Go

When you pass another person, leave behind a little cheer, a hug or smile,
And where there’s some hurting soul, or Nature’s amusing antics, linger awhile.
For we were born to love and care, to embrace the joys and hope of life and share,
And all made sweeter where our heart is clean and another’s load we help to bear.

So live like a child and skip through life, swinging on lamp posts, stomping in puddles,
Laughing and singing, painting, writing or sculpturing, and enjoying cuddles.
Yes, treasure that innocence, adventure, any moment that promises fun,
So that wherever you might go there’s a chirpy chorus and a beaming sun.

By Lance Landall

5.  Take A Jar

Take a jar and fill it full of loose change for those buskers and beggars one sees,
Or fill it full of homemade jam and give it to a neighbour, for such will please.
Or maybe you could fill it full of cookies for when a visitor turns up,
Who some chilled fruit juice in a glass would also love, or a hot drink in a cup.

Yes, take a jar and fill it with others in mind, and call it "The Kindness Jar,"
One that can take a sizable quantity so that its goodies will go far.
And then fill it again and again so that it won’t run out of what will please,
And that kindness jar will always reward you, truly bless whenever you sneeze.

By Lance Landall

6.  Nothing More Sure

Love’s a key, a tool, the best of expressions, the better way to get things done,
A path that’s more successful when it comes to waking up the bleary eyed sun.
A way of saying and doing things that leaves sweet buds bursting out everywhere,
And that has chirpy birds flitting from branch to branch filling each tree top with cheer.

Yes, love’s a plaster, a bandage, a tonic, a sorter-outer, a soother,
A magic wand, if you like, something that’s certain to have things running smoother.
And why love is the first thing to turn to, and best used from beginning to end,
For there’s nothing like it when it comes to others, and nothing more sure to mend.

By Lance Landall

7.  That's Love For You

Oh, the power of love, it catching folk by surprise — anytime, anywhere —
They moved by its passion and daring, clever things that it’s seen to engineer.
All why it’s so irresistible — so very successful, I have to say,
Folk succumbing to its charm, its cheery manner, even mischievous way.

Yes, it’s not long before love has hooked someone, got them with its spicy arrow,
Knocked them off their feet and raced them along in its seductive little barrow.
And why love is oft around the corner, either waiting or lying in wait,
For it simply can’t help itself, is always seeking new ways to captivate.

By Lance Landall

8.  In Your Heart

Wherever you decide to go, take love with you, carrying it in your heart,
For there’s no warmer place for love to be, it always ready to play its part.
And oh, how it will bless you and others, have your heart beating effortlessly,
For love can only but serve you well, energise with its positivity.

Yes, love’s known for its therapeutic properties, its ability to cheer,
Its speediness where there’s some plaintive cry, hence its very sympathetic ear.
And love oft provides the answer, and many a burden is seen to help bear,
Hence why you should take love with you
and when not going out, still keep love in there.

By Lance Landall

9.  Ladies And Gentlemen!

Pull back the curtains, flood the stage with lights, and let the orchestra gaily play,
For love should be the centre of attention, a star in its own cabaret.
So on with the performance, that masterly touch — yes, that talented display,
For nothing outshines love, and may each one of us be love’s protégé.

Yes, we joining love on stage, dancing in harmony, and applauded loudly,
For who isn’t a fan of love, a fanatical follower, devotee?
And thus we all joining hands in some grand finale, though one that never ends,
Others rising to their feet in appreciation, love bucking all the trends.

By Lance Landall

10.  Love's Little Messengers

Grab a warm fuzzy, put it in an envelope and seal it with a kiss, or,
Put it behind a cushion, under a pillow, even tape it to a door.
Yes, let it surprise, cause a smile or squeal of delight, thus making someone’s day,
For warm fuzzies are love’s little messengers that certain things succinctly say.

Oh, how they please folk with their irresistible tidings and warm fuzzy ways,
Appearing out of nowhere, leaving a little footprint that “Guess who?” conveys.
And why I’d grab one and place it here or there, deliver it personally,
For warm fuzzies are love’s little messengers that think and act creatively.

By Lance Landall

11.  A Special Kind Of Suitcase

I wish I had a suitcase full of answers for every problem, any cry,
One that I could open when any troubled, hurting or weary soul passed by.
And into that case I would quickly reach with a willing heart and seeking hand,
Thereby removing their worry, pain or fatigue, enter joy refreshed and tanned.

Oh yes, how I wish I had such a suitcase, I always waiting visibly,
Or taking it wherever I had cause to wander; it never far from me.
But rather, it just an arm’s length away, or within my very grip, and I
Not letting that suitcase run out of answers that anyone’s need would supply.

By Lance Landall

12.  A Teeny Weeny Poem 

May love keep our heart tender,
Choose our every word and act,
Fill our mind with loving thoughts,
And wherever we go, impact.

May love rise with us each morn,
Accompany us each day,
Form our dreams when we retire,
And while we sleep, ricochet.

By Lance Landall

13.  I'm Sure You'll Agree

When the smiling sun pokes its nose through the surly clouds and warms one’s heart and face,
This oft depressing old world seems not as bad, even the fickle human race.
But what an extra blessing when those stuffy old clouds decide to disappear,
And a sky of blue takes their place with that friendly sun beaming from ear to ear.

And oh, how sweet it is when blossoms peek out from their buds and cheerily bloom,
Joining in the sun and sky’s welcomed attempts to disperse any frost and gloom.
And what another blessing when it seems as if every bird has thought to sing,
And when every kind of multi-coloured fury butterfly is on the wing.

And to top it all off, frisky and boisterous fountains sharing their liquid joy,
Or sedately captivating any loitering man, woman, girl or boy.
And yes, a duck or two, and a nearby river that beckons oars and swimmers,
Who, after all those strokes and splashes, head toward that picnic lunch that simmers.

By Lance Landall

14.  Like Sun And Rain

It’s very sad that people come and go,
They here today and gone tomorrow.
Well, so it seems to me, life so fleeting,
And thus "rest in peace" folk oft repeating.

Yes, it’s so sad that people come and go,
And their special place isn’t filled, you know.
For there’s only one you, only one I,
And thus cause to celebrate, cause to cry.

By Lance Landall

15.  Doctor's Advice

Kisses and cuddles are good for the heart,
And should always be a daily affair,
First thing in the morning, last thing at night,
And in-between: Anytime, anywhere.

In other words, there’s no time that’s not right,
A healthy heart top of the agenda,
And thus any excuse excusable,
For kisses and cuddles keep hearts tender

By Lance Landall

16.  Love Buds

The only pistol that one should carry is one that fires love buds,
Each bud bursting on impact with intoxicating little thuds.
Yes, people stopped in their tracks by a bullet made of warm fuzzies,
Each little fuzzy designed to delightfully tickle and please.

And there you have it, for no other pistol will do but this one,
It firing off rounds that pepper folk with happiness, joy and fun.
And they in turn reaching for a love packin' pistol of their own,
Its chamber filled with love buds too, each made to shatter hearts of stone.

By Lance Landall

17.  What Is Life But...

What is life but a gentle breeze blowing on one’s face and then fanning out and around one’s ears,
The Earth seemingly alive and saying so; and the warming rays of a summer sun that cheers.
And with such, a beautiful clear blue sky, blossoms decking trees and flowers lining flowerbeds,
Yes, Nature abuzz with excitement and happy cries coming from playful, bobbing younger heads.

Oh, what is life but those sights and sounds that gladden the heart, those strolls down a welcome country lane,
Or that easygoing bike ride through Nature’s finery and 'neath a chirpy treetop refrain.
And yes, in the delightful company of a friend, a full picnic hamper at the ready,
Nothing like partaking of Nature whilst enjoying Nature, such innocent and yet heady...

And healing, for there’s nothing like natural therapy, Nature’s therapeutic skill renown,
And such the answer to that stress and pressure that’s found within every city or busy town.
Hence that exodus come each weekend, the country or seaside teeming with tired bodies and minds,
For such is where restorative benefits come in abundance, and where peace and calm one finds.

Yes, be it the country or seaside, rolling hills, heaving swells, inland dew or salty sea spray,
Such teasing the senses, filling one with awe, and seemingly more so when it’s out-of-the-way.
And that meaning, those quiet, cosy, romantic hideaways where three's a crowd and two company,
Be they a honeymoon couple or pair of aging lovebirds, for what's life but such chemistry.

By Lance Landall

18.  Public Libraries

Behind each library wall, that quiet that’s full of mystery, those furtive glances periodically,
There’s a world of its own, one that’s enjoyed there or on loan, and found within books of every category.
Yes, a world that awaits the lifting of each cover, where there’s so much to discover, come those turned pages,
Which sees shelves assisting elbows, seats supporting the odd bottom down orderly rows, and oft for ages.

Yes, folk in their own little world, their novel or textbook attentively held, their minds often far away,
They lost in some adventure, (distractions worthy of censure, for libraries aren’t some place to talk and play).
Or perhaps they're engrossed in something academically — history, mathematics or philosophy —
But whatever it be, they're head down and somewhat focussed hypnotically, each word holding them firmly.

Yes, their minds full of various pictures, they seriously reflective or in stitches, even tale bound,
And thus not there but elsewhere, perhaps another hemisphere, or on some planet, no one making a sound.
Some minds full of equations and theories, others full of pirates, soldiers, princes and fairies, who knows what,
Each in their own little world — yes, a preferred book resting or held, they lost in deep ponderings or some plot.

Oh, the pulling power of words, such captivating romantics and nerds, light and serious readers, who,
Those thousands of books at each library, charged for or free, peruse accordingly, be they old or new.
And thereby are lost in each sentence and paragraph, hence those furrowed brows, that sigh or laugh, or busy pen,
Or, should those books be loaned, temporarily owned, that glowing bed lamp that's still burning come something a.m.

By Lance Landall

19.  On A Roll

Morning world! — and hey, get out of my way, for I’m about to seize another day,
Haven’t got time for negative introspection, would rather love, laugh, sing and play.
So look out worry, for I’ve had enough of your old spoil sport ways, am on a roll,
Have a basket full of promise, a new zest for life burning deep within my soul.

Yea, can’t keep me down, for I’ve a spring in my step, am like a bud about to bloom,
A fountain about to gush, or a chandelier that’ll brighten up any room.
Won’t take no for an answer, couldn’t care less if I come across a cloud or two,
’Cause I’ve got a brush that’ll take any moody sky and soon cheer it up with blue.

By Lance Landall

20.  Seize The Day

Yes, death is very certain and can catch one by surprise,
So, seize the day when from your fitful slumber you arise.
Make the most of every moment, each opportunity,
Not dwelling on what might have been, but rather, what could be.

Wisely waste no time on hate, for such devours from within,
And put the past behind you so a new life can begin.
Tap into the positive, shake off negativity,
Embrace a new perspective that will have you better see.

Take the time to meditate on what elevates the mind,
On that which changes the heart and will benefit mankind.
Lose yourself in others, seek to give rather than receive,
And an atmosphere of hope and healing calm deftly weave.

Let love be the motivation for all you do and say,
Scatter rays of sunshine, seeds of kindness, along the way.
Where there’s wrong, seek to right such, where there’s heartache, seek to mend,
Show mercy to everyone, treat each stranger as a friend.

By Lance Landall

21.  Catch On?

Even when life has dealt us blows, left us with hurt and pain, it’s better to remain loving,
And midst the fog of broken dreams, heartache and loss, to seek out others with whom we can sing.
By that I mean, to lose ourselves in selfless acts and gentle ways, and words that warm and heal,
For responding any differently, even more joy, peace, hope and happiness will steal.

Yes, such is how we make our heart smile again, how we still move forward, and find our way through,
Searching for any little thing that will brighten, found in those things that for others we do.
For as we lift another’s spirit, ease their lot, and via those loving acts of kindness share,
Our own load is lightened, our season soothed, and possibilities are oft seen to appear.

We shouldn’t dwell on what we’re missing, on what might’ve been, or even on what should’ve been,
But rather, make the most of the present and what we have, for things will always intervene.
Hence why life’s really in the living, the being, our sight, our hearing, even our sense of smell,
And not so much in grandiose plans, nor romantic dreams, for many betray, kiss and tell.

Better to thrive on little, for little disappoints less, given expectations are low,
And given that acceptance and contentment are the two greatest friends that any can know.
For we all arrived with nothing, and will leave with nothing, given living is in the being,
And why we’ll never experience true peace until this little gem of truth we’re seeing.

By Lance Landall

22.  If Love Came In A Spray Can

If love came in a spray can I would purchase it immediately,
Spraying it wherever I went with unbridled generosity.
Oh, how liberal I’d be, enter repetitive strain injury,
My finger always on that button pressing unconditionally.

Oh, what fun I’d have, what joy, I going through can after loving can,
Cries of happiness coming from every babe, girl, boy, woman and man.
And thus my graffiti artistry seen and felt everywhere on Earth,
The best use of a spray can and innovation having given birth.

By Lance Landall

23.  A Mental Hug

A smile’s like a bud that bursts forth in spring, a cheery bloom that brightens,
And that on its way, the load of some struggling soul adjusts and lightens.
Oh, the power of a smile, its beautiful bloom a refreshing sight,
Something that midst a gloomy old day spreads a welcoming ray of light.

A smile’s akin to a mental hug, it registering in ones brain,
And just like a relaxing massage, it having an affect on strain.
Yes, it providing a little boost, one that something else can build on,
And why whenever we venture out, a genial smile we should don.

By Lance Landall

24.  May It Be So

As you go through life, may your heart always be moved by another’s plight,
And it very quick to respond, motivated by goodness and right.
It ever on the lookout, tuned to notice, ready to lend a hand,
It tender, loving, faithful and generous, seeking to understand.

And may it always beat with hope and beauty, always thinking the best,
That those it comes across may be encouraged, uplifted, warmed and blessed.
And may it also be that its beating is lengthened and not cut short,
That it may continue to gladden, its example desired and sought. 

By Lance Landall

25.  Singing In The Rain

When the sky packs a sad, covers itself in cloud and turns its tap on hard,
And thereby, the dark and gloomy landscape is seen to angrily bombard,
Out with the umbrella, raincoat and gumboots, thus one singing in the rain,
For though the heavens have opened, we can smile and that lost sunshine reclaim.

Yes, too bad what the moody sky may say, too bad what the weather might do,
Let’s splash in those puddles, enjoy the watering, laugh at the rumbles too,
We shrugging off that grouchy storm, making our own blue sky, warmth that’ll shine,
Ignoring that ill-tempered wind that has nothing better to do than whine.
By Lance Landall

26.  Joy

Joy’s a clear blue sky and a summer sun that warms one like a heater,
A picnic in a park after a cosy ride on a two-seater.
Or a squiggly piece of handwriting that says, “I rather fancy you,”
And he or she smiling at that photograph where you once gushed, “I do!”

Yes, joy’s a hand in hand stroll down a quiet country lane where no one’s seen,
A pretty bouquet and a table for two where many times you’ve been.
Or a snuggle and cuddle in a comfy chair by a toasty fire,
A mature marriage that’s still full of loving affection and desire.

By Lance Landall

27.  Coming Ready Or Not!

Wouldn’t it be great if love was hiding behind everything,
And when anyone walked past it was seen to up, out and spring.
All at its mercy but willingly succumbing to its spell,
Love wrapping itself around folk in a way that'd kiss and tell.

Yes, it sparing no one, all bitten and smitten on their way,
Love never leaving off but hard at work come night or come day.
And soon the whole of Earth covered in a glorious mantle,
Love having captured each heart and brought any out of their shell.

By Lance Landall

28.  Can't, So Don't

Put love in a box, secure it with locks, and love will still get out, get around,
For love simply can’t be contained, restrained, and hence why it will always be found.
Yes, shove it in a bag and tape it shut, pour it in a bottle and cork it,
And love will burst forth full of vigour and verve, it championing at the bit.

No, you can’t keep love down, and it will not be bound — it too big a force, you see,
It somewhat like the wind, unable to be subdued, and thus destined to be free.
So let love have its way, its say, embrace it with open arms, enjoy its charm,
And make it your closest and dearest friend, for love will do anything but harm.

By Lance Landall

29.  Smiles

A smile can disarm a guarded face, crack a granite-like look, lessen a frown,
Hence why it can come in handy whenever one’s out and about, around town.
Yes, a flash of teeth here, a flash of teeth there, dimples having appeared as well,
And as to whether a smile has worked or not, is so very easy to tell.

Smiles cost nothing and beautify ones face, even brush up other faces too,
For smiles sent are often mirrored in other folk, and sometimes as if on cue.
Yes, some a little slower in coming, but appearing eventually,
For a lovely smile is pretty irresistible, such a nice thing to see.

By Lance Landall

30.  Midst

Midst the depth of loss, that pain and loneliness that your loved ones death left behind,
Someone says, “I’ll take their place, that once again, peace and happiness you may find.”
Midst the depth of depression or anxiety, when you truly need a friend,
Someone steps up, gives encouragement and hope that peace may return and fear end.

Midst the depth of  sizable financial need, ill looming for lack of money,
Someone goes without in order to help you, responds very generously.
Midst the depth of wrongful accusations, and your reputation in tatters,
Someone takes your side, shares the cost of doing so, knowing such really matters.

Midst the depth of health robbing age and lessening beauty, though still young inside,
Someone makes you feel good, shows respect and appreciation, returns your pride.
Midst the depth of hurt, those wounds that far too often are caused by  humanity,
Someone puts their arm around your shoulder, responds caringly and tenderly,

And there, is love; there in deed is love.

By Lance Landall

31.  When Just Enough Must Do

Not everyone will tell you everything, some things being too personal to share,
So mind those questions, show a little understanding, and long with others bear.
For life is oft about easing, not solving, nor learning all there is to know,
Another’s woe sufficient reason for kindness, that “Yes” rather than that “No.”

Best we err on the side of believing, some things not easily understood,
And why there’s often only so much said — though much more, folk wishing that they could.
All why some answers may seem muddled, further probing aiding and abetting,
And hence why that help that so many sufferers need, they’re not fully getting.

By Lance Landall

32.  Stronger Than A Summers's Sun

Love says a lot without saying a word, though it’s not beyond using words too,
But hey, where it excels is in doing, for actions speak louder than words do.
And thus love busy where it’s at, scratching where it itches, rubbing where it’s sore,
Words only used where necessary — yes, love more a silent ambassador.

But it the greatest example of all, hence why love’s welcomed everywhere,
It pulling back the curtains, opening the window, changing the atmosphere.
Oh yes, how it waxes lyrical without saying a single word, not one,
And why wherever it’s present there’s a warmth that’s stronger than a summer’s sun.

By Lance Landall

33.  A Precious Thing

Too many of us pluck the petals off a rose, hurt and damage those we love,
We seemingly descending like a sharp clawed eagle rather than a cooing dove.
And thus the ground full of petals, even trampled underfoot, squashed, crushed and scuffed,
Flowers that we should’ve gently breathed upon, but over which we huffed and puffed.

Yes, it’s sad but true, blooms shortened by hands far too callous for a pretty rose,
One meant to be savoured, its beauty beheld, its sweet scent delighting the nose.
And when chosen from the garden, it placed in a vase, nurtured until its end,
For every rose is a precious thing, something we should thoughtfully mind and tend.

By Lance Landall

34.  My Feathered Friend

Let me ask again, little sparrow, what did you see today when on the wing,
Was it cruelty or kindness, was there reason to wail or more reason to sing?
Oh, how you must notice it all, the lame and the fit, the well-off and the poor,
The free and the imprisoned, those with less burdens to carry and those with more.

And what about yourself, little sparrow, were you fed by that which humans shared,
Was your thirst quenched by water left, was your tiny little heart saddened or cheered?
And how’s your nest? Is it undisturbed and your wee ones safe, and you resting too?
For midst my concern for others, I also take the time to think about you.

By Lance Landall

35.  Memories Are Made Of This

Mum at home, the smell of baking, ironed washing, and “Honey” prettied up and clean,
Cherished children home from school, and a happy hubby soon appearing on the scene.
A white picket fence, a pretty garden, homemade curtains and a wide open door,
And “Honey” waiting there with a hug and kiss, a favourite meal, and more in store…


Yes, memories are made of this, home sweet home, Mummy always there to call upon,
And “Honey” there to snuggle up on the sofa with when finished with her apron.
Delightful music, shelves full of books, pencils and paper, a seldom-watched TV,
And there is seen a very blessed, wholesome, close and any century family.
By Lance Landall

36.  When Childhood Returns

A child is born dependant on others, it so vulnerable and fragile,
In need of special care — and naturally, it prone to acting infantile.
And so it is when childhood returns in the form of old age, and why we see
That very same dependency, vulnerability and fragility.

All why tender care and understanding is called for, vitality waning,
Tiredness engulfing, ones body breaking down, once easy things now paining.
And with it all, a certain anxiety, frustrating helplessness, and why
When childhood returns,
Those older folk should be lovingly cocooned ’till off they fly, no more concerns,

Each of us a precious butterfly.

By Lance Landall

37.  Station Earworm

Within everyone’s brain there’s a little radio and busy disc jockey,
Random tunes and songs coming from a station that’s player jams repeatedly.
All why certain melodies keep running around in ones head on any given day,
Ones subscription automatic at birth and lifelong, from black or brown to grey.

Yes, that disc jockey big on his or her favourites, sometimes annoyingly,
But all in all, the music entertaining and usually cheery.
And to be honest, one having a certain say in the matter, tune or song wise,
But hardly so when it comes to that radio that’s battery never dies.

By Lance Landall

"Earworm" is what scientists call that tune that seems to be stuck in our head.

38.  Live And Love

Don’t be too busy to live and love, for life’s short and loved ones aren’t immortal,
Hence why every single moment counts, and lest death far too early chortle.
Yes, cleaning, washing, mowing and pruning can wait, but not kisses and cuddles,
Hence why one should even make snowmen out of snow and boldly stomp in puddles.


Don’t be too busy to live and love, for life’s for living and folk for loving,
Hence why midst the cares of life and all our daily duties we should dance and sing.
And we always doting on our loved ones, for others move in when we move out,
Houses houses but people people who should be treasured while they’re still about.

By Lance Landall

39.  Peek-a-boo

Do you remember when love tickled your tummy, played with your tootsies,
Held your tiny fingers, bounced you up and down, gave you a little squeeze,
When love fed you, patted you on the back and wiped your chinny chin chin,
Changed that soggy, soiled botheration, rubbed talc all over your skin?

Do you remember when love made those funny faces and pinched your cheek,
Repeatedly said, “Boo!” Smiled. Sniffed the air. Grimaced. Had another peek?
Of course you don’t, and you staring blankly at love’s face, until one day,
You couldn’t help but smile back, and your own intriguing things do and say!

By Lance Landall

40.  Sorry Is The Saddest Of Words

Yes, sorry is the saddest of words, wrong having preceded it, or some pain,
And hence that need of it, some picture having been blighted by some thoughtless stain.
And why no matter how sincere that, “Sorry,” it can’t erase what has been done,
For surly clouds or acid rain have appeared where there was once blue skies and sun.

All why sorry is the saddest of words, and it oft said too casually,
Given that behind its utterance there’s always another casualty.
Someone who’s been hurt, wronged, betrayed, neglected or slandered, unfortunately,
When such could’ve been avoided, and thus there no need for that frequent, “Sorry.”

By Lance Landall

41.  Begin Each Day Anew

Within any day, some things are said and done that shouldn’t have been said or done,
And as a result, clouds move in that partly or completely cover the sun.
And such being a very sad thing, and this why we should start each day anew,
Thereby consciously minding what we say and consciously minding what we do.

So always view every day as another chance, yesterday put behind,
And where possible, nothing said about those wrong things that will sadly remind.
Though “Sorry” never goes amiss, but better no need be created for it,
And why beginning each day anew proves to be to everyone's benefit.

By Lance Landall

42.  A Wholesome Recipe

Take a man and woman and join them together in Holy matrimony,
Add a child or two or three or four until you have a bonny family.
Fill that home with love, hugs and happiness, protect it with rules and boundaries,
And in its backyard place a garden, a lawn, swing, kennel and beckoning trees.

Yes, take a man and woman, both of them committed, determined and selfless,
And add a mum and dad fusion, an element that will rightly guide and bless.
Fill that home with fun, love for others too, noble plans and a sense of duty,
And you’ll have a picture in a frame that’s full of hope, promise, joy and beauty.

By Lance Landall

43.  Affection

There’s just nothing like affection, those cuddles, kisses and hugs, that holding hands,
Those tender anytime caresses, those cosy ’neath the stars and moonlight plans.
Two people in love, a selfless marriage, a got-it-together family,
Everyone full of affection, and all responding reciprocally.

Yes, can’t beat it, can’t top it, loving affection earning silver, bronze and gold,
Worthily and deservingly taking any prize-winning cup in its hold.
Yes, affection’s a sure winner, a beautiful expression of love and life,
Wherever there’s another soul, some romance, a family, husband and wife.

By Lance Landall

44.  Still Hold Hands

Even if you’ve disagreed, still hold hands when out walking, still act civilly,
Keeping the door open, lessening rather than enlarging being the key.
Otherwise, danger may well take advantage of any distance or upset,
And greater damage or a dismantled relationship is what you might get.

And best you not turn your backs come bedtime, for such too, hampers any, “Sorry,”
And as a further consequence, a good nights sleep not coming as easily.
All why disagreements should only go so far, wisdom being ones best friend,
And a heart that is quick to reconcile and any friction shorten or end.

By Lance Landall

45.  A Love Drone

I wish I had a love drone that could drop love bombs, and then busy I would be,
I spying out those targets in need of bombing, the hard of heart or teary.
And, “Bombs away, bull's-eye!” Folk momentarily staggering under love’s spell,
And then skipping and dancing with loving passion and a feeling that all’s well.

Oh, how my expertise would grow, no person beyond my reach, my spying eye,
Love bombs bursting wherever someone was grumpy, angry, seen to sniff and sigh.
Yes, my battery always charged, my drone always ready for action, and, “Fire!”
Heat seeking love bombs raining day and night, and I hardly about to retire.

By Lance Landall

46.  The Greatest Thing

The greatest thing that we can do is love one another, and until we do,
We’ll hardly get off the ground, will never arrive, no matter whatever we pursue.
So we can go on about love as much as we like, but such won’t do a thing,
’Till love’s beating in our heart, blossoming like those promising buds of Spring.

Otherwise, it’s all just cosmetic — a farce, really — hollow like vanity,
An outward makeup hiding an inner truth, an inner contrariety.
One that will always be a fly, it soiling the ointment one needs to apply,
Because anything other than love won’t do the job, won’t ever qualify.

By Lance Landall

47.  Out And About

It’s good to roam the countryside for pleasure, health, education and chance meetings,
The air pregnant with the scent of Nature’s bounties and those passing friendly greetings.
And then to return to a meal that replenishes, a favoured chair by the fire,
And a sound and comfortable sleep in a cosy bed that was heated prior.

One soon lost in dreams after a day well spent, blessed by the exercise, sun and air,
And those momentary stops for purifying water that’s needed here and there.
Yes, it’s so good to roam the countryside, to lose oneself midst heather, brooks and trees,
Those chirpy birds, grazing beasts, butterflies, dragonflies, ducklings and watchful bunnies.

By Lance Landall

48.  I Could, But No

I could captain a ship, pilot a plane, guide a rocket into outer space,
Conduct a famous orchestra, become a judge, even win some kind of race.
But the truth is, I’d rather stroll around town as a deliverer of joy,
Be that via word or deed, my presence cheering any man, women, girl or boy.

Yes, I no brain surgeon, no president or king, but a man of different means,
My chest not sporting a row of badges, my wallet not bulging at its seams.
No, my skills or talents used in other ways, my worn pockets lean from giving,
And my back stiff from stooping to serve, for such is what I call really living.

By Lance Landall

49.  Sweet Pea

Just had to say good luck at the flower show, but don’t fancy your chances though,
Because they’re bound to spot you a mile away without any petals, you know.
I could pop you in a vase but you’re a tad too big, wouldn’t like getting wet,
And I have to say that hanging around on some ledge wouldn't be a safe bet.

I suppose you could call yourself Rose or Iris, but it wouldn’t get you far,
And why you might as well discard all that foliage and just go as you are.
Sure you could do with the money, but I consider you a prize anyway,
So just stand around where I can gaze at you, ’cause you beat flowers any day.

By Lance Landall

50.  Go For It

There’ll never be too much love in the world, so pop it in letters and emails,
And ensure it’s delivered by speedy cheetahs and not time consuming snails.
Spare no expense on the wrapping, tie it with the biggest most colourful bow,
So that unbridled extravagance and a passionate energy will show.

In other words, tuck it everything, and take it wherever you go,
Leaving plenty behind for others, little heart shaped impressions that will grow.
Spread it around like graffiti, leave its tap running and unravel its hose,
Toss it just like snowballs, bounce it just like basketballs, and let it boldly pose,

And if you dare, rub its little feather under noses, let it tickle toes.

By Lance Landall

51.  Course You Have

You’ve forgotten me, ay, but I’ve always been there, just kind of hidden away,
Though perhaps it’s those glasses, that grey hair, or those wrinkles that something else say.
Yes, I guess that I’ve sort of metamorphosed, shed that earlier looking me,
Nothing like a change, you know, and I also looking at things differently.

But I’m still that person you knew, my name not having changed, but simply my age,
Hence those things that fooled you, you still caught up in an earlier chapter and page.
It just the same book, but the story having moved on and nearing its ending,
The scene changing, the spotlight shifting, I bowing and the curtain descending.

By Lance Landall

52.  The Flower

It’s a beautiful flower — yes, a belle in a flowerbed,
It’s cradled in pink petals and has a fetching lilac head.
It brightens up the garden, it cheers the hearts of passers-by,
Who stop to view its beauty, and also, its type identify.

It stands tall amidst the others that adorn the garden too,
The Queen of all the flowers that were planted and quickly grew.
Yes, it surveys the scenery with such dignity and style,
For it’s truly a lady, one that will have you pause awhile.

It relishes the sunshine, and it’s seen waltzing to the breeze,
It jostles with the raindrops, even causes some folk to sneeze.
It brings joy to the observer, it plays host to busy bees,
And delights the gardener too, who each day this monarch sees.

Yes, it is lovingly tendered and watched over faithfully,
It’s a classic, a prize-winner — all the judges would agree.
It’s the pick of the bunch, it’s out on its own, royalty born 'n' bred,
But in a vase inside a home this charmer will go instead.

By Lance Landall

53.  Sad Begining, Happy Ending

A pretty little flower wanted to be itself, but such wasn’t to be,
’Cause no one was taken with its colour, nor how it expressed itself, sadly.
So it just stood there until it drooped, dropped all its petals and wasted away,
Never having been appreciated, nor considered fit for a bouquet.

But midst its sad departing, it left behind other free-thinking seeds that grew,
Each one another pretty little flower with its own expression and hue.
They surely not destined to suffer the same fate, each head erect and pleading,
But sad to say, and come each day, their bid for attention no one was heeding.

Until, of course, an innocent child appeared, her face expressing joy and awe,
And each one was lovingly gathered and sniffed at, which made their tiny hearts soar.
Oh to be noticed, wanted, partiality not the hallmark of childhood,
And why in the heart and room of a little child those flowers soon basked and stood.

By Lance Landall

54.  Traces Of Love

Traces of love, traces of love, conveying where love’s gown brushed past on its way,
It touching enough to leave an impression that only love’s manner could say.
It soft on the cheek, light on the arm, warm in the heart, and easy on the mind,
A butterfly with slippers on, a Summer day that a gentle breeze has signed.

Yes, traces of love, traces of love, their sweet perfume lingering here and there,
Kind messages that remain in the memory ready and waiting to share.
Silky caresses, cotton wool dabs, powder puff strokes, feather duster swishes,
All leaving behind their own cute little something, and conveying best wishes.

By Lance Landall

55.  That's Love For You

You can see love coming, no cloak and dagger stuff, except when it’s surprising,
Cooking up something that well cause a squeal of delight, without ’em realising.
Yes, they walking into a room and there it is, or somewhere else, and, “Surprise!”
And if they’re not dancing and whooping, there’s tears of joy welling up in their eyes.

But otherwise love just being its self, openly expressing its feelings,
Full of thought and care, loving concern, and always honest about its dealings.
It nodding its head, winking knowingly, even smiling mischievously,
Or it looking for opportunities to act extraordinarily.

By Lance Landall

56.  May Love

May love draw us together, fill our hearts, our minds and our lives,
A love that our thoughts, our words, and even each action drives.
A love that is strong and enduring, passionate and deep,
A love that shines where there’s darkness, is found where any weep.

Yes, may love grace every country, every city and home too,
May it guide each government, all that those in power do.
May love sit enthroned on earth ’midst liberty and free speech,
And may each race and faith, love always practice and preach.

By Lance Landall

57.  Mind Those Years

The truth is, we don’t live long, thought it mightn’t seem so initially, but in time
Up the ladder of age towards that day of departure we invariably climb.
Yes, very slowly at first, until that time when the years seem to gallop, and then
We looking back over that nearly used up quota that’s the sorry lot of men.

And oh, how we often waste those years, one way or another, and enter regret,
But when we indulge in folly, or go light on love and care, that’s just what we get.
And so, we learning too late, having approached that closing gate, it soon to be locked,
And thus we having good reason to mull over that sound advice that we once knocked.

By Lance Landall

58.  Make Life Count

Make life count, skin those potatoes, peel that banana, skip with your nose in the air,
Show troubles that you couldn’t care less, that you’re going to sing and dance while you’re here.
No hanging around in the shadows, but you as large as life in the old sunshine,
And swinging from tree to tree like Tarzan, clinging to an imaginary vine.

Yes, make life count, let people know that you’re coming, and that you won’t be sitting still,
But making the most of everything, thus electrifying every cell.
No, no flies on you, but mental wings, your creativeness running riot, on fire,
Your flames of passion sneering at any negative, your heart singing like a choir.

By Lance Landall

59.  Dreamsville

Some of us seem to spend time in Dreamsville, a hiding place of sorts where we go,
Leaving the world and all its disappointments behind, and where ill winds don’t blow.
Our imagination creating a brighter scene, a much happier place,
One where dreams come true, one where we’re successful, a kind of therapeutic space.

And there in Dreamsville we smile and sigh until we return to reality,
That place where things don’t happen the same because we’re not dealing with fantasy.
Yes, a place where we mostly live, we doing our best and hoping that one day
Those pleasant things that we create in our imagination will come our way.

By Lance Landall