Odes to a Time


Written by Susan Stubbings

An Alternative View of 1963

Oh dear what can the matter be?
There’s a tear in my heart
Where once love just stood for Me
It’s been here well since ….1963
Begun at the age of 4 …. months of deep freeze an
The flying Scotsman havin his last 
Rush before going to Sir… Pegler’s
Something to look back on…. all wanna make a memory
1963 for some the age of freedom, love is in the air and flower power ….
Gone in the bends I say, inspiring no…. a world gone weak at the knees 
In the year wee Jimmy Osmond and Brad Pits life begun
 Some of us was made invisible, tainted, kept small
The age of disrespect blowing in the wind on many a mind
Well we can’t call them equals since we were innocence its self ….re-jigged  
Whilst they were just pure living breathing evil …. Encapsulating   
Incongruously they have been given hearings of one kind or another 
So don’t call Me by my name since I was, am known by
Number 4 or is that 5 in 1963...  I was never really sure
Could never do math’s, nothing adds up you see

Rendered dirty, dark, cold, soiled and so
began the age of my moon shadows, my life of discontent.
 But Wow where you one of the lucky ones
who clocked that large cloud appearing that some say
resembled the face of ‘Jesus’ on the Sunset Mountain in Arizona?
No …. nor me because I was the fortunate one sat on His knee
In the birth of the age of my castles up in the Isle of Sky
The Sun shone on me that February day in 1963
I’ve been trying to catch those very same sunbeams ever since
Mount Agung erupts on the Island of Bali. Killing oh so many
Whilst I became a deserted Island in someone else’s own right
because of someone else’s behaving ….. Aww err
Morning had broken like the first morning but I’m not singing
The age of the Beatles first album release
Please Please Me with Love Me Do
So it made me do just what the songs suggest
Imagine John, Paul, Ringo and George singing those songs
In the year whilst a Child was getting used, abused, killed….

Imagine that in the age of the family of man when love is all around us
and all we need.  so there’s no need to fret, though cos this was the year which was ….
long gone, they’re spinning a web just for you an Me.  In 1963
Saw the death of the Birdman and the close of Alcatraz.
  Replaced with the clever age of emergence…. no one saw or heard.  Shhh…
One little sweet beautiful girl who first flew without wings ….
somewhere over the rainbow, feeling like the wind its self… , cool, don’t you think?
Whilst I was getting my Mind and Body 
over taken by the ugly of the ugly and those mighty stings
My Soul was bathing in pure white golden, multi coloured lights ….
Perfect liaisons with radiation, electrifying …. can you believe that?  I can
So is it right or fair I compare my life in the year of the dear departed
John F Kennedy president of the United States of America
And his alleged assassin Lee Harvey Oswald.  This was the biggest shock
… upset for the world, for many in 1963… yet not for some.  Indiscriminate
blood flows for one and all shot down into the dark unknown
without a by or a leave …ing present.   Who could we say was the coldest?
In the age of the Red Cross …. who was winning?
 the Noble Peace Prize.  Well I guess we all have a cross to bare
So some say.  Why?  is what I asked.   And what a too do
Martin Luther King, Jr.  Issues his letter from
Birmingham Jail.  What is the world coming too? 
Tis all wrong if anyone were to ask …. they don’t, they hear me not

The Coca-Cola Company debuts its first diet drink
I must get me Self some stock of that.  
Cos this is the beginning age of stuffing down life’s bulky conundrums
Whilst a fellow traveller ‘Thich Quang Durc‘, inspired by fire
Commits Self-immolation to protest at the oppression of Buddhists
Now that’s what I call true calling, true courage of one’s convictions
 The Roman Catholic Church chooses Cremation as a funeral practice
This little life is just a giant scary enigma to a Child who
Was once full of curiosity, playing, baking mud pies and peace….
Seeking adventure, all she got was a living inferno, snatched, erupting volcanoes,
Shot up just too fast.   Pauline God bless her was abducted by the moors
murdering  …. beautiful innocence, one has to ask where oh where
is this god if he allows freedom to peak but only for the few…how’s that I ask
So let’s just cut to the chase this could have been Me
If I wasn’t in another place over the hills not too far away;
as luck would have it for Me that was …. 
When I asked repeatedly to be taken home, end my hurt, end my pain
So just why did He spare me instead of ….?

Tis very sad whilst some met paedophiles who squeeze out their last breath
 I got to dance with men who draw their own line on that…. my map …. Strange that
They not one of them it’s have the courage of their own convictions,
Just inflictions for and on the young and wide eyed innocence.
But we live in a beautiful world don’t we? 
The adults have the power, the freedoms, the choice, little people don’t
  Cowards hurt the most ferociously it appears, believe it’s true, it’s real 
In a world which is so terrifying to us Children there’s no escaping. 
The other side is never greener little girls learn very quickly
Because this is the age of no returning … one way or another
But let’s not forget the swinging sixties tis the age of freedom after all 
But only for some does not include those of us forced to swallow
the insensate bitter pill of others desires in life, embedded in their young hearts
Martin Luther King, Jr delivers his “I have a Dream”
speech whilst he had an audience of 250,000 to hear him at the Lincoln Memorial
Little girls only had the space to be heard which resides inside
Their own heads, in mankind’s family living in the Yorkshire dales that is 

An audience with one …. The Self.  In the age of stiff upper lips
We had no one to hear our pleas, our dreams
Even though we dreamed, cried out loud for freedom on our respective pulpits
 John is abducted too by the evil murders of life’s sweet young innocence
There’s just no escaping for boy or girls no matter how we plead, cry 
Our perpetrators don’t know about morals, compassion, others freedoms,
only their own it seems. Empathy hell no… Selfish hypocrites,
fed, shielded, cared for the rest of their naturals,
even others to plead on their behalf.  Believe that
Let them have freedom…. it’s a human right after all.  
What is wrong with this world?   When the innocent can’t come back,
 I wish for full peace for all those Children delivered into resting….
 Some of us left in chains which burn and leave us yearning
I just got to live through sad eyes, for the rest of my life left in a hollow
Although all’s not lost cos in 1963 be the first episode of
Doctor Who Televised so adds to the
magical view that life is just a practice, rehearsal after all
 and if we rendezvoused with dead.  Than we can be rejuvenated,
made all shiny and new again, how magical is that to a Child who’s four or five
For those rendered invisible, living and dead
Just pop into the police box and all will be saved, made new
Yet to see it all in black and white one questions how does we the small and invisible
 get to this wonderful blue box tis all so very confusing
 there’s always hope of meeting K-9 - so don’t give up and try not to be so afraid
Don’t make a fuss….Don’t cry cos you’re big girls and boys …. Really
Whilst I despair at life woman get to see a new freedom with the contraceptive pill
Choose when life can, will begin; how cool …. That’s a woman’s place

But can you believe a pill of free will invented by man 
For some Children of the Sixties, life was so much easier
 than of today some believe with a sunny optimism
 passing through everything, the opportunities ….endless.
So this little prose is an alternative view ….I’m sure you can view!
Yeah for us Children flower power was just so cruel, crude, evil, life stilting
not psychedelic …. well then forget it …. I wish ….. dream still
Christmas comes fast and good old Walt produces
The Sword and the Stone, but who should be given the sword and who the stone?
Cos from where I am parked tis the wrong way round. 
I’m just someone else’s recreation facility …. how crazy
Tis all just ‘A Most Befuddling Thing’ this unspecified breathing
Called life and death …. These Children’s given lot living hell or death
Some choice is that, hold on though we never got asked, chosen not choosing
we were heard not, in the truth of our own given fates
One way or another we are left breathless, in pain, hurt, living, dead
Flying without wings. 

We were only Children after all in this year of 1963
 seen, abused, killed but never heard, oh me oh my peers;
so there’s not need to mention that cos the thoughts a
Disgrace, dishonour, discredit, shameful but still to whom? 
The Beatles finish the year singing I wanna hold your Hand
Imagine that thought in the minds of Children who got
abducted or abused in 1963 a year that was
and I still wish, dream not, imagine it never even existed, nor Me for that fact
Because I’ve since found out, as you do as you grow tall, one and all
Can’t come back to the starting block cos one only gets one shot
Of this thing called life …. Choice?
Life lies to the invisible and small time after time.
 That’s what the matter is here with Me …. In this year of 2007
Some members of this earthy family, the family of mankind…. ummmmm
 Family…. Man…. Kind?  I’d say not.  They rendered Me
 Forlorn and Made Invisible …. Living …. Yearning….
for the family plot …to end or to stop
This is what family means to me, nought…. Nothing at all
Historical of course ….  how sad is that!  
Others just did not get as lucky as Me they are dead …. Never comin back  Still unable to speak their own truths, still, not heard,
 but no one promised life as fair there’s no justice in our powerless, unheard lot. One for sorrow, two for joy,

three for a girl and four for a boy,
five for silver, six for gold and seven for a story

never to be told!
Eight tis too late for some so be eight

for the unseen flow in a life
Sadly, we never got to meet in our respective span of life. 
I send a kiss and a big hug XXXX ((((Love))))
into the celestial winds up above to give love to the unknown Children
No longer able to breathe, walk nor talk
because of the hands of time…left in 1963
We are unique, different, yet Universally connected by
The essence of grief which never grows old, stills, …. nor ends. 
Lest we forget, when love was all we needed and still do 
Young hearts be free. 
Goodnight God bless!


Once upon a time there was a little girl… aged six
Sweet, small, yet tall sat in her citadel
 in the midnight blue velvet star light sky
Free, safe, happy, secure, alone fully matured
Absorbed within the magical entities who dance
 sing, amongst the moon shadows and bright lights
From her pane she could see the moon
The stars, the sun, the calm mesmerising
Sanctuary somewhere there and then
One day she met a charming little boy who was also… aged six
She was never told his name, so she called him Time
Because he had the most magical radiant face with eyes of blue
Beguiling when he took hold of her hands … touched
By the gentle of the gentle that day on the milky way
His face felt and looked like the Sun with his
Joyful smile so much bigger than a mile
She would always know him from his grace filled glowing Spirit
His truly genuine and truth inspiring way of Being
In their nativity they were both reborn intuitively delivered by
A blissful coincidence within the Heavenly cloisters
The little girl never met the boy who warmed like the Sun
 in her castle in the sky again… although she visited regularly
She never forgot the boy in the clouds although she searched for
Decades he never reappeared … She remembered his words all the same
When the Time is right we will meet again, we will know each other
We will have no need to  look for love again,
whenever you see the Moon remember me
Whenever you see the Stars remember we are one and the same
Take my hands, take my heart and remember whenever you are in pain
I will be by your side; look to the Moon reme3mber the Stars
 And you will remember this love and the place that’s to Be for us
When the Time is right we will meet again.  
              Surrender to the faith of this day for we won’t need anything nor anyone


Here in my container I live
controlled by those who put me in,
 heaped on guilt, shame, blame,
 Here, now who just is to be?
Held responsible?
They took my poise, my power
My grace, my smile, my trust
My happy little dancing feet
Do they know what it is they do
To a four year old who
Once was all shiny and new
Full of adventure, full of visions
Yet they turned Me old, cold
Jellied, bellied, crushed, rendered, vacant,
Just because they could?
 Because they did!  
So here in my container I live
Cos there is no place on earth
Where I can glow, grow, evenly walk
I can’t afford the world too see me
Them to see me twice
Least they go right ahead
And break me in two now
They’ve sculptured, made me in ice,

not nice, so I live here in my container
Where I have passionate warm tender feeling.

But for the vision
 I am contained less
Yet the order of their way is to stay hidden

out of sight out of their apparition
cos I don’t match
I am one of a kind… designer
Now I need a miracle. One, two or …
Cos my container is not see through
Yet perished to the middle.
Rotted to the core by their heat.
Yet the light of me … sees
So all I can do is close my own weary

eyes and render my self blind
Before they take even my vista away
Cos really there’s note worth seeing
On this barren land of nonsensical love
So I live in my container controlled without,

within.  So at whose feet do I now lay
this my sin bin? In the beginning, in the end,
who’s containing me now? I know me,
 yet still they know me not
So their feet stand at their own grave.. weep .. contained yet slumber not
There is no blame, nor shame no guilt
So fly my little butterfly …… fly,
Away, sit with your God!
Be …. Rise above their failing land
Seek your own rainbows coalition
Be and go beyond …

Amen xx

Once upon a time there was a little girl… aged eight
Sweet, small, yet tall sat in her citadel,
In the midnight blue velvet Skye
Free, safe, happy, secure, alone, fully matured
Absorbed within the magical entities who dance
And sing, amongst the wings of tender breeze
From her window she can see the crescents
Of the moon, the stars, the Sun,
The calm mesmerizing sanctuary somewhere
there and then,  Flying white birds, colorful butterflies and rainbow promises of a world to pass by amongst
the dazzling bright
Lights in the oceanic clouds anointed blue
Celestial bird songs play out loud softly, affectionately,
Smoothly.  One day she was introduced to a
 Charming little boy who was also… aged eight
She was never told his name, so she called him Time
He had the most pure white hair, the most beautiful
Radiant face containing eyes of sparkling blue Sun’s
Beguiling when he took hold of her hands … touched
By the gentle of the gentle this day
Blazing bands of white, orange, mauve orbital lights
Sliding, playing on the Milky Way
His face felt and looked like the Sun with his
Joyful enigmatic smile so much bigger than a mile
She would always know him from his rare orange
 Mauve luminosity and graceful heart-mind Spirit
 In their nativity they were both reborn intuitively
Delivered by a blissful synchronicity from within the
Heavenly clouds of gleeful delight, the little girl never met the
 Enchanting boy who warmed like the Sun
 In her castle in the sky again… although she visited regularly
She never forgot the boy in the clouds who came
To play for ten blissful hours, although
She searched for decades he never reappeared …
She remembered his words all the same
“When the Time is right we will know each other,
from these stars, of sparkling mauve, clouds of affection
whenever you see the Moon remember me
Whenever you see the Stars remember we are
One and the same take my hands,
take my heart and remember whenever you feel pain,
are in the dark, I will be by your side;
look to the Moon, reme3mber this day and you
will remember our vitality an the place that’s to Be for us
When the Time is right we will meet again.
We are two of a kind, One and the same
 Surrender to the felt faith of this day for we won’t need
anything nor anyone, just one heart, each of us …
Complete, absolute and free beats”.

Susan Stubbings Doncaster