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Best Poems Written by Janette Fisher

Below are the all-time best Janette Fisher poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Janette Fisher Poem

The 'star of Education'

Like many precious diamonds,
Good teachers are hard to find
Yet sometimes one can discover
A rare and priceless kind,
It’s not like all the others
For it out-shines the rest
You know as soon as you see it 
That this stone is the best,
A good teacher is that special gem
They do far more than teach
They make you feel, through learning,
There’s no star you cannot reach
In Art, they help you see differently
From new angles, not straight up and down
They make Geography an adventure
As the world you travel around
In History, they make you feel 
You’ve lived and breathed the times
And Math is not sums, but puzzles
To stretch and tone your mind
In English they encourage you
To not just write, but feel
So that each one of your stories
Will read as if it were real,
If you ever have a question
You call and they are there
With patience and understanding
Your problems are theirs, they care
There’s usually one in every school
Superior to the rest
For they’re the ‘Star of Education’
And as such are totally priceless!

Details | Janette Fisher Poem

All Change

This year I turned the big ‘5-0’
And my body is acting strange
So I went to see the doctor who said
Not to worry, as I was going through ‘the change.’

“Is there anything I can take?” I asked
He replied, “There’s HRT
But I don’t believe in prescribing it,
Let’s try to deal with this naturally!”

You could have knocked me backwards
And I thought, all well and good for him
It wasn’t his raging hormones 
Making him feel like a stranger within

He doesn’t get narked, by the little things
That before would go over his head
Or wake up at night, in a lather of sweat
And have to get up to change his bed

It isn’t him having palpitations
Which make you feel like you’re going to die
It’s not him, who feels angry one moment
And the next as if he could cry

He’s not lapsing in concentration
Or feels like he’s his losing his mind,
Because he put the milk in the washing machine
And it took him an hour to find!

It isn’t he who keeps feeling so crap
When a ‘monthly’ is missed or comes late
And I bet he never just has to look at food
In order for him to gain weight!

He’s not always taking medicine for thrush
Or constantly needing to pee
So I bet he’d be first to pop the pills
If it was him going through this, not me

So I looked at him and said “I’ll give it a go
But I don’t really hold much hope”
And walked out of his surgery, feeling as though
I could have hung him with some rope!

But off I went and months have gone past
Of getting worse doing - ‘naturally,’
So I’ve made an appointment with a lady doc
Who might take pity, and prescribe ‘HRT.’

Details | Janette Fisher Poem

A Memorable Person

On a train going south on business
For what seemed an eternity,
I chanced upon a memorable man
Who changed the path of my destiny

He was itinerant to look at
With tatty coat and shabby shoes,
An unshaven face, his hair unkempt
And string, as a belt on his ‘trews’

He boarded the train, peoples heads dropped
For fear that his gaze they’d meet
He walked down the aisle, disappointed,
As no-one would give up a seat

I offered the seat beside me
He thanked me for making the space
I replied with a sincere ‘you’re welcome’
And a smile warmed his weathered face

He asked me about my journey
And I asked of his in return
I felt in my heart, that by talking to him
There was much about life I could learn

I bought us both refreshments
As he told of his life’s history,
Once in a while I would interject
With a small anecdote about me

Behind the shabby persona,
Was a man of intelligent mind
He’d lived on the edge in finance,
Made his fortune, left it behind

As his bank account grew he’d lost everything
His family, his friends, his wife
He’d found out, too late, and at great cost
That there was so much more to life

‘You have to stop and smell the roses,
Make some time for those you hold dear’
And as he spoke, down his rugged cheek
I saw the track of a small, salty tear
As we reached the end of our journey
He clasped my hand at our time to part,
He thanked me for my company
And told me I had a good heart

When I got to my lonely hotel room,
I called my daughters on the phone
And told them ‘we’ll be together soon
I’m taking some time off when I get home.’

Sometimes it takes a chance meeting
To give your whole life a shake
I felt I had met my ‘Hermes’
And now had decisions to make

When I got home, I made a decision
The missed years with my girls I’d amend,
My life took a different direction
All down to my indigent friend

You can’t judge a man on appearance
But if you look in their eyes you can,
I knew in the instant I gave up the seat
I had met a remarkable man.

Details | Janette Fisher Poem

I Will Be Strong

Today, I lie in the stillness of the night
Listening for you breathing
The silence hard to bear,
Without you here beside me
The emptiness, the loneliness 
Is more than I can endure
I am but an empty shell,
Living, yet not alive,
It was you and you alone
That made me whole
But, tomorrow is another day
And although my future now is unclear,
Second by second
Minute by minute
Hour by hour
The memories we shared
Will make me stronger.

Details | Janette Fisher Poem

Through the Looking Glass

The mirror reflected her face, pained with
Hate and self-loathing
Rueing her actions from the night before
On waking to find herself naked, lying beside him
Under the influence of alcohol, she had
Given in and made love to him, now, she chastised 
Herself for letting him make his move

There had once been a time, when
His touch was all she desired, but that fire had been
Extinguished many years ago

Love had disappeared in an instant
Once he had started playing his game and his
Omnipotence had came to the fore,
King had taken Queen
In his opening play and he’d taken control
Now he was on the offensive again and
Giving herself to him, had gained him the upper hand

Gathering her resolve, she put aside her
Lamentations and regrets, closing her door silently
As he lay quietly, still deep in sleep; 
She stepped into the shower, the water removing all trace of him as
She contemplated her next strategic, defensive move.

Details | Janette Fisher Poem

The Uninvited Guest

2009 and the expenses scandal
Made Gordon Brown, the Prime Minister, lament
So John Bercow, was appointed new ‘Speaker’
To be ‘The Commons’ new broom, was his intent

But he was faced, with an unlikely challenge
In his efforts to clean up ‘the house’
For running loose, in his official residence
Was a small, grey, furry, wily mouse

‘The Speaker’s’ efforts to entrap his visitor
All failed, with equal measure 
So Sally, his wife, used her ‘Twitter’ account
To seek help on catching the creature

“Eeek, we have a mouse!” she did post
“And under the dish washer it’s run,
It’s Sunday, and the ‘mouse-catcher’s’ day off
Can someone tell me – what can be done?”

“My husband’s been ever so manly
But all of his efforts have failed,
Please can someone come up with a plan
To put this small rodent in jail?”

Suggestions came from near and far,
But all of them failed to succeed
The mouse still evaded the Bercow’s grasp
This led Labour MP, Gordon Prentice, to plead

To ‘The Commons’, “Why not have a resident cat
To rid ‘The House’ of the mouse population?”
But the members said, “No – that’s inhumane
We prefer control over eradication 

This ‘House’ has stood for centuries, and,
There’s always been a problem with mice
But to bring in a cat, to kill them all
Well, the voters wouldn’t consider that, nice!

That’s why Parliament employs the ‘mouse-catcher’
To monitor and control the pests
So, until he can catch the Bercow’s mouse,
They’ll just have to live with their uninvited guest!”

Details | Janette Fisher Poem

I'D Love To Be.....But!

I’d love to be a model
Tall and thin like Jerry Hall
But I like fish and chips too much
And I’m only five feet tall

I’d love to be a dancer
With poise, and style, and grace
But I was born with two left feet
And would end up flat on my face

I’d love to be a climber
Scaling mountains in one single bound
But I get dizzy in high heels
So I’d best keep my feet on the ground

I’d love to be an athlete
With medals of gold on my chest
But it takes all my breath, to run a bath
So relaxing at home is best

I’d love to be a painter
And have works of art hanged in great halls,
But the only paint that I can use
Is emulsion you slop onto walls

I’d love to be an actress
Starring on the silver screen
But with my memory, I’d forget the script
“What was I saying?” – see what I mean

I’d love to be an explorer
Through untamed jungles I’d caper
But I love the luxuries of life
Like hot baths, and toilet paper!

I’d love to be a poet
And write my own anthology
But that’s just another pipe dream
So I’ll have to be, just me.

Details | Janette Fisher Poem

A Mothers Love

From the very first time, you hold your child
Their first gift is your heart forever,
The love you give and they return
Is the bond that will hold you together
Throughout their life, your love will be
A light that guides their way
The beacon aglow in the darkness
Should they ever go astray,
Your love will give them courage
When the way ahead is unclear
And will give them strength, when needed
To help overcome their fear,
Your love will accept them for who they are
Whatever they say or do
Your love will forgive unreservedly
Because they are a part of you,
It’s a love that will know no barriers
Have no bounds, no expectations
Your love will be unconditional,
Pure, with no complications
A love that remains as constant
As the stars in the heaven above
A gift no money on earth can buy,
The gift of a mother’s love.

Details | Janette Fisher Poem

Achristmas Story

Christmas Eve in the Gardner household
With mum’s prep for next day going well,
When her two boys, 9 and 7, began to fight
And Mike, her oldest, decided to tell

His brother Kenny, that there was no Santa
“Yes there is,” yelled Kenny, “that’s a lie!”
“No it’s not,” said Mike, “it’s just dad dressed up.”
Mike went quiet, and then started to cry

Mum came through when she heard the commotion
And asked Kenny, why he was so sad
“Mike told me that there is no Santa.”
She turned to Mike and told him, “That’s bad.”

“Well there isn’t,” said Mike, “it’s you and dad
Who put our presents under the tree,
At least, that’s what they’re all saying at school
And what Jimmy Jones told me.”

“And you believe everything Jimmy Jones says?”
Mum asked Mike taking charge of the situation,
Knowing that Jimmy was known for his lies
Perhaps she could use him, as damage limitation

Mike thought for a while; then he quietly said
“No I don’t, because he sometimes tells lies.”
Then he went over, and gave his brother a hug
Saying, “I’m sorry I made you cry,

It’s Christmas Eve, you shouldn’t be sad
Santa’s coming to bring us new toys.”
And with peace restored, they ran up to their rooms
Mum went back to work, thinking, ‘Boys!’

Details | Janette Fisher Poem

The Gift

My family had always told me
About ‘our gift’ since I was a small girl
That allowed us to feel the spiritual,
And see things not of this world

I ignored them until, at the age of sixteen
I’d gone out with a friend for the night,
We were being walked home by her father
When we encountered an unusual sight

As we giddily ambled along a dark road
A cloaked woman came into view
She drew closer, until we met face to face 
Then she spookily walked straight through

My friend’s father, who seemed oblivious to this
And continued to walk on home
As he said nothing, and nor did my friend
I was sure the sighting had been mine alone

But I asked them both if they’d seen her
They said that I’d had too much drink,
‘She sees spirits as well as drinks them’
My friend’s father said, with a wink

We never spoke of that night again
But that sighting wasn’t my last
I’ve had more ‘paranormal’ experiences
As I’ve grown and years have gone past

I just have to step into old buildings
To feel a ‘vibe’ and become aware
Of the energy held within its walls, 
And tell if ‘spirits’ walk there

When I visit an ancient monument 
That is surrounded by fields of war,
I can hear the sounds of the battles
And cries of those who have gone before

Sometimes it can be disconcerting
As bad energy can be a pain
But I wouldn’t be without my special ‘gift’
Or change my life with the unexplained.

This poem has been written for Danielle Whites 'Time Warp' contest