Category Archives: Poetry

The glint of gold on a Goldfinch’s wing

The glint of gold

on a Goldfinch’s wing;

the trilling song

that a Blackbird does sing;

the cuteness overload

of a Robin’s hop;

the raucous cry

of a Jackdaw’s call;

there are many others,

but I cannot name them all.

A high coo (or three)

Just three collared doves

(deserving of a haiku)

sat upon a roof.

Moving Leaves

Moving leaves

from place to place

brings a strange bemuséd look

to my face.

.

From tree to floor,

I can relate;

from floor to floor,

by means of a leaf blower…

well, it must be against some or other law.

.

Moving leaves

from place to place,

just brings a smile

to my bemuséd face.

The birds are back in town

The birds are back

upon the feeder,

where they do feed,

to assuage a need.

.

Goldfinches, starlings,

sparrows, others,

I help to feed

my feathery brothers

(and sisters).

Woden’s Day

Woden would have been proud

if he had known

that they would name a day after him;

Humpty, also, would have been proud.

A Zing in May (amazing)

A zing in May

is what we really need

but, when it’s in November

Its best by far indeed.

The Earth needs more Poets

The Earth needs more poets;

so, if you have any old, unused ones,

laying around your house

please donate them to a local poetry charity.

Think of the joy on a young persons face,

when there are no poets in their presents;

you can change that.

Donate a poet today,

you know it’s the best and only way.

.

Or…

.

Recycle poets –

they’re biodegradable –

bury one, and see.

Queueing

I queued for thirty minutes,

but the manikins in the queue

never moved an inch;

so I went away

to queue somewhere else.

.

There, I queued for twenty-five minutes,

but at least the manikins moved (albeit slowly)

and I queued successfully.

.

I returned to the first queue,

and retook my place

at the rear of the queue;

and… after some thirty minutes or so,

I reached the front of the queue,

and twenty seconds later I was upon my way home.

.

A lot of queueing,

not a lot doing,

but things go done:

.

That was a joyous Monday afternoon,

which, hopefully, I won’t be repeating any time soon.

It rained (and I died)

It rained and rained,

and I got wet,

it soaked me through;

and, yes, I caught pneumonia,

double, died;

and then the rain stopped,

the Sun came out,

and all things dried;

it was a lovely day,

but a shame I’d died.

I saw a rainbow in the sky

I saw a rainbow in the sky,

someone had put it there,

I don’t know why;

I don’t know who,

I don’t know why,

they must’ve had a reason,

perhaps it is the rainbow season.