Monthly Archives: May 2022

Wet Wednesday week

Wet Wednesday week,

It’s raining buckets again –

buckets, I have lots.

Holiday Haiku


and covered in sea salt sand,

from St. Ives, Cornwall.

When the Romans visited Cornwall

When the Romans came to Cornwall,

in the middle of the night,

they gave us guidance

to see the light;

to make the grade

and give no fight;

to worship Rome,

instead of Paig,

and construct straight roads—

in Cornwall? Vague!

When the Romans came to Cornwall,

in the first century AD,

they taught us to speak Latin

and how to be so cool;

but we were ‘proper’ Cornish,

and would be nobody’s fool.

When the Romans came to Cornwall,

they didn’t understand,

that we were Cornish full-time,

each and every man.

When the Romans came to Cornwall,

they didn’t stay that long,

they sailed away,

one fine day,

singing a mighty Cornish song.

Where did all the seagulls go?

When I took the picture

I left plenty of room

for the poem

that would accompany it.

When I took the other picture

I left plenty of room

for the seagull

that would inhabit it.

I didn’t take any more pictures,

as I’d left plenty of room

for improvement.

A cloud about poems

Poetry is all well and good,

when all is said and done,

and where there’s muck there’s brass,,

and words don’t come easy,


Every poem has a silver lining,

and blue-sky thinking

can often provide

the basis for an airy poem.

When the sky is limiting,

and the birds fly through,

just to peck holes in your construction,

who is to say that a rhyme is a crime?

Who? said the owl of Oswestry.

A poem about clouds

If you had to write

a poem about clouds,

how would you begin?

Would you go outside

and look at the clouds,

or would you stay in?

Could you imagine the clouds

floating above your head?

Or would you you have to espy them



“I espy with my little eye,

something beginning with C!”

The A to Z Prompts

The A to Zeds,

that were in my heads,

were all written

with little thought.

I ought to have seen

that they lacked for nought;

like the finest wine

from the vineyard bought(

or the rarest word

so fanatically sought;

but, they just wrote themselves

with the words from my brainial shelves,

so that what you got

was not a lot.



It’s not a word

that I have ever seen

spelt like that;

however, I can work out


it relates to.

And, I have heard,

that of the twelve signs,

we are all one or another one.

I’m a Stradivarius,

what are you?

Dirty Van

You can tell a lot

about a man,

from the thickness

of the mud

upon his van.

We love to Bee by the Sea

A is, for argument’s sake, Apple

B is for Bee,

C is for the Chive Mind

that thinks that D is for Dapple,

or Daffodil – which do you choose?

E is for Ever,

F is for Forever,

G is neither;

but G is for Grae, me.

And I love to bee by the sea.