Tag Archives: nature

The sky above me

The sky above me

looked down upon me

belittling my stature,

and questioning my joie de vivre.;

but I am a forgiving sort,

and thought,

that one ought

not to be bought

by a condescending sky.

I, am bigger than that.

We walk along lanes

We walk along lanes,

where the songs of birds abound,

and we smile a lot.

Scene from a window – Monday


The rain it fell

and well it did,

the worms that hid

deep in the ground

surfaced to see the Sun,

and, as one, became targets

for the blackbird.

The worms were destined

to be winter fare;

which is not fair,

but Nature is like that.

Scene from a window – Saturday


Below, in the midst of the snow,

seeking a worm for a snack,

a blackbird pecked around,

the ground was frozen,

the worms had sought deep refuge,

and the blackbird’s efforts

were to no avail,

but keep on it must.


A quiet Sunday morning walk

A quiet Sunday morning walk,

with just the sound of flittering birds,

as the dogs and I traverse the country lanes.

Further on, the cry of new-born lambs

from a field, a distance away,

that is dotted with many off-white clouds of fleece.

Other fields have grazing cows,

quieter in their ruminations,

while yet others are carpeted with growing crops of an unknown type.

Two horses freely digest their findings,

conversing sparingly with their neighbours, another herd of grazing cows.

I tip my hat to the morning,

and offer thanks

In the garden – a location poem

A carpet of leaves,

with a russet and yellow pattern

that changes in the breeze,

and is added to from the trees around.

Leaves left untidily in heaps,

or seemingly strewn about

with gay abandon;

Nature is having a brief glimpse at regaining

its dominion –

and, now, it’s started raining.

The Sun is low on the horizon

The Sun is low on the horizon,

and my shadow is 100 yards long,

the birds are singing their evening chorus,

and nothing of this moment is wrong.

In the distance

In the distance

I can see black and white cows

crossing the green and brown fields,

their destinations unknown to me.


In the sky

gulls and crows and various birds

are passing from one horizon to another

their destinations also unknown to me.


Close by

in the hedgerows

tiny feathered friends tweet their messages

of information unknown to me.


I stand here and all this circles around me.

Your plaice or mine?

Your plaice or mine?


The plaice is its own property,

and we should leave it alone,

to hover and hoover above the sea floor.

And, what’s more,

I side with all the fishes,

a-swimming in the sea.

Bee in a flower

I’m just a bee in a flower,

hour upon hour,

not the same one, obviously,

lots of different ones;

because I’m a bee,

and flowers, I find,

are attractive to me.