Monday, 25 March 2019

Thomas and the Breakfast Bear

With a pile of toast upon his plate
Thomas, all smiles, cannot wait
To enjoy his breakfast before school
To study he must needs refuel!

But who's this new friend by his side
With beady eyes and furry hide?
A quiet observer propped up close
Who looks with longing at his toast?

Pooh Bear or Paddington from Peru?
This shaggy look is somewhat new
White-faced, he hasn't caught the sun
But loves his food – look at his tum!

Fuzzy Bear now reigns supreme;
Isabella, absent from the scene
As Thomas, unfazed, takes his time
Click goes Mum's camera – and this rhyme!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019


Friday, 22 March 2019

New Feat for Isabella?

Perched on her haunches, she surveys
Assorted footwear; can she gauge
To whom these clumpy things belong?
Will Mum or Dad's feet put them on?

At fifteen months, the choice is vast
Isabella's pensive eyes now cast
Their gaze upon this pile of shoes;
None fits her, so - how can she choose?

It's a challenge she's not met
How soon before her ten toes get
Themselves inside some grown-up shoes?
Auntie waits to hear this news!

But, as far as I can tell
Though pulling herself up is swell,
She hasn't yet quite learnt to walk
But devotes her time to talk the talk!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019


Thursday, 21 March 2019

Surface Excitement!

There's a quantum shift, the sun streams back
Warm feelings, we are right on track
My terrace, though brushed clean, looks bleak
A hefty clean-up planned this week.

Amazingly, some plants survive
Their green shoots tell me they're alive
Such resilience! I admire them most
While others long gave up the ghost!

The metaphor is tired and worn
But «Nature sleeps» until Spring dawn
Last year's flower displays are doomed
My hanging baskets must be pruned.

And though the morning light is faint
The days get longer – no complaint!
Time to pull out all dead wood
And air the soil – it does it good.

I'll meditate on what to grow
No rush - as Nature's ways are slow...
But here and there a herb appears
Despite the odds, and my heart cheers!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019


Monday, 18 March 2019

A Pink Bonanza!

Despite the chilly winds that blow,
Let's be grateful there's no snow!
Bright yellow daffodils now beam
And woodlands show a tinge of green.

Birds twitter, lost in lofty bough
If you listen, you can hear it sough
Torrential raindrops purge the air
And street drains gurgle everywhere.

But winter's turbulence is past;
The sun on daisies shadows cast
It's clear that Spring is peeping through
On this clean slate so much is new.

In a local square, not far from me
A vast, pink-petalled flowering tree
Its myriad branches flirt and toss
On passers-by, pink candyfloss!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019


Sixty is Only a Number!

This pome will take you for a ride
So hold on tight and jump inside.
Go with the flow - my words imbibe
Bright images in overdrive!

This is a tricky date to hide:
Eggs this old should not be fried
In golf a low score - player's pride
Headlines this old - cut and dried.

Weak lightbulb wattage at bedside
Far too late for groom and bride
Few wedding vows this long survive!
A career this long - is one tough ride!

It's many years to spend "inside"
In terms of hiking miles - a stride
So what am I trying to describe?
The date you reach on Monday's* tide!

(c) Poet in the Woods 2019



* Actual birthday: Monday, 18th March

Sunday, 17 March 2019

The Conversion - Week Three!

My garage, once neat, snug and dry
Is roofless now, I see the sky
But rain in torrents fell this week
So what's left of the floor looks bleak!

More broken masonry and dust
Old iron girders, fraught with rust
And shelving, once locked on the wall
Now lie outside – no use at all.

March weather dampens workmen's clothes
Huge pile of rubble comes and goes
Wheelbarrow loads cart powdered grime
And the skip is emptied one more time...

On Sunday, briefly out comes sun
My snap shows raindrops on the run
A concrete mixer stands in wait ...
My party wall's in parlous state!

A group of Scouts, like garden gnomes
Sit outside on cobblestones...
Dog walkers stare at gaping hole;
We're still a long way from our goal!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019



Wednesday, 13 March 2019

A Pivotal Moment

Life is balance – an up-down thing
Think roundabout and hand-pushed swing
Ever-changing – fast then slow
Perpetual motion – ebb and flow ...

Staying in one spot is rare
Positions alter – have a care!
When the music stops – beware!
Who will sit on BREXIT chair?

The House of Commons, rafter-filled,
Has spoken - and the Deal is killed
Not for the first time we're at sea
Will the Island Nation now break free?

In all directions, big waves crash
The markets shudder, strapped for cash
The ice wears thin where MPs tread ...
What other options lie ahead?

Damned if we stay in, let's step out!
Or - is it the other way about?
I'm not alone to be confused;
All eagerly await more news!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019