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Teresa
By David Ryan (Resident of Syrian House)
Teresa Ryan is my mother
A person I respond to unlike any other
Teresa Ryan is a person to rely on
She has a willpower made of iron
She is clearly a shoulder to cry on
She was born in Salford in 1930
Where the cobblestone street seemed rather murky
She does the cooking and the cleaning at home
She treats the house like home
Tidying the place with all her skin and bone
She was to marry a man called Terence
Easily a partner not for forbearance
The two of them moved to Flixton
Clearly a place to get fixed on
Terence had a job at Shell chemicals
As a quantity surveyor and draughtsman
With his knowledge of mathematics
He was really rather a craftsman
They had three children; David, Angela and
Kathryn in that order
With life from Teresa we do applaud her
They moved to Flixton around the years of 1950
To get to this area you have to be very thrifty
In this area the fog can be very misty
Cecil Drive was the first Cul De Sac
In which they were to arrive.
Kathryn now lives in Chorley
She has a job of being trained nurse
To look after the very poorly
Angela now lives in Spain
All day the family of two daughters
Can much around the terrain
David (myself) had a job as an assistant tax collector
He probably used the job for the money as his protector
He had an illness
which brought the family a little chillness.
Teresa Ryan has a BA University degree
She is lately researching her family tree
This woman is very clever everyone will agree
With Teresa we have been to Spain, Holand and France
We got to these holidays purely by chance.
We got to see the Island of St Michelle
Pervading the atmosphere of an erie romance
Teresa and Terence moved house again
To Milfort Avenue in Flixton
It was suitable for the jobs they had attained
Knowing that the mortgage would be retained
Because of the access to their jobs they could not be restrained.
The last time I paid a visit to Teresa’s house
She complained about her washer
She wanted to replace it with one posher
The family always get together at the house at Christmas
Where we would all discuss each others business
I remember when Teresa used to visit me
At Bridgewater Hospital
When I would discuss my plight
About an illness I had to fight
These days me and Teresa meet for a coffee in Sale
This is more convenient than sending each other mail.
We meet at the bus stop at 1pm without fail.
This is the woman I know
She helped me to grow
I only hope this poem will make her glow
Miriam
By David Ryan, resident of Syrian House
Miriam of Syrian, the girl that is worth a million
She comes to Syrian House two or tree times a week
Without her the atmosphere would seem quite bleak
In the past she has been a University student
That is probably why she is so prudent
In the house she Hoover the floors
Being careful to glide around all the doors
This is only one of her many chores
She finished the job with due cause
When she is helping the other staff in the office
They do realise she is no novice
She always does a very good job by her promise
To look at her face, it is one you wish to embrace
To many a man that has probably been the case
This is a type of girl to chase
If she ever leaves Syrian House
There is probably no one good enough to take her place
When she has finished her routine
She goes home to her own cuisine
The job has been done….
Now she can have some fun
The Church bell
by David Ryan, resident of Syrian House.
Right in the centre of a suburban district
Can be heard the church bell ringing
This is before the church choir start singing
The bell is situated in the whereabouts of the church steeple
Which looks down on its entire people?
Within the church sits the congregation
Setting aside its prayer for the whole nation
To beware of Satan guile inside the church
Inside the church goer must be free for a while
For searching for God’ grace brooks no denial
At the sound of the bell
Everything seems to be going well
For nobody really wants to end up in hell
When the meeting is over
The church goer goes for a cup of tea
Whatever happens in their life next?
They must wait and see…..
The Bee’s Nest
by David Ryan, resident of Syrian House.
To the knowledge of the bee’s nest
It is always the summer that sets the test
During the months ahead the whole procedure is to make honey
In the same way people ask for money
You have heart the phase, busy as a bee’’
It is in truth as everybody can see
As time moves on
There must be a conflict to bet on
Then suddenly four wasps invade the hive
For no reason anyone can divine
To save the Queen bee
The male knows these wasps should flee
Two hundreds bees die in the fight
To make any kind of future bright
After this affair is done
The bees begin again to work in the gleaming sun
When the summer months are ended
The bees say goodbye to all the flowers they have attended
Then the Queen bee moves out but is defended
