Goodbye – Two Word Tale #12


Photo by Shawnna Donop from Pexels


At last
It’s here
Stand fast
No fear

Ship ahoy
Let rip
Your trip

Don’t dare
Take care
Play fair

Bon chance
Good luck
See you!

Pip pip
You’re off
God speed!



Two Word Tales: #4

photo of body of water with boulders

Photo by Inge Wallumrød on

Two words

‘Good Bye’

Were all

It took



My ‘Two Word’ Verses

Throughout this week, I shall publish each day one of a series of short verses which, together, by the end of the week, will have told a story. 



Forms Of Address

We never have just one name.  I have spent a while considering the number of different ways in which I had recently been addressed.  The realisation also came, that being older appears to give more licence for those we meet to be free and easy with the various forms of address which are available to them . . .

I am addressed in different ways,

If the cap fits, then I wear it.
I do not mind, I’ve learnt to accept,
So I just grin and bear it.

“Well, there you are,  my lovely”, the waitress warmly said.

I shrivelled in my seat  .  .  .  not feeling in the least bit lovely.

“Take your change, old fella”,  as the shopkeeper mouthed goodbye.
Honest, I suppose, but unkind  .  .  .  I let it pass with a sigh.

“Don’t forget your hat, young man”,
Came the cheeky reminder from a bumptious innkeeper –
Sarcastic enough to hurt my seniority.

“Cheerio ducks, enjoy your day”,
Such jollity from the buxom barmaid,
As if it wasn’t already past my sleep-time,
“Goodbye” was all it needed.

“On your way now , darling”,  the cheery matron muttered,
As if I was lingering languidly
And delaying her siesta.

Brusquely bustled aside with an
“Out o’ the way, mate, don’t hold up the British working man.”

My presence effectively disregarded.

“Hiya, Mister, got a quid for a fag?”
Mister, being generic,
My catch-all name … Bought for a pound.

“Can I help you, Sir?”
Kindly meant but formulaic,
Curt but kind
I think you’ll find.

“Come in, Honey … You’re very welcome.”
Warm reception from the receptionist,
No deception.

And so, my dear,
To make it clear,
How I address you
Fits how I assess you.




Waving Goodbye

at the end of a day

Photo by Monique Laats on

Waving Goodbye


Tomorrow threatens not to come

And so I grab at life Today

That ever was Man’s threnody

Through Doubt and Hope to make our way.

And when in truth all light has passed

And Darkness fills the Void with Fear

I realise with certainty

That then, at last, my God is near.

Those who remain to carry on

Carry the Labyrinth’s thread on high,

So human life is held in thrall

Forever set to wave Goodbye.




The Voice



It woke me from my sleep,
I heard it call my name.
Not plaintive nor appealing,
The gentle murmur came.

Not desperate nor demanding, 
Nor urgent nor imploring,
A voice I recognised
From the deep grave was calling.

As she had once addressed me,
Just quizzical, requesting
A warm word in response
Our lifetime’s love suggesting

Half awake I called out “Yes?” 
Expecting a reply
But no such came and then I knew
It had to be “Goodbye”. 

Four times I’ve heard in recent days 
my name called out on waking 
It can’t be real. It can’t be true,
It must be memory faking.

A voice that I had known
From the grave’s depth calling
A voice now lost to me
Lost memory forestalling.

A wake-up call to start my day 
My new life here without you 
I miss you so. But now I know 
You wish me life anew.