Wednesday, 10 February 2016

Adelaide - After the Thunderstorm!

Time presses – and the rains have come;
Some plants revive - though the harsh sun
Makes victims of much native green
Burnt to a crisp – a sorry scene...

It's quite amazing – barren branches
Shoot out tendrils – taking chances
To capture in this brief respite
Life-giving droplets of delight.

The winds make short work of leaf pools
The sun's rays dazzle them like jewels
Hordes of bugs resuscitated
Swarm merrily, their torpor sated.

The life force – strongest pulse - abounds
Ant armies, water-logged, are found
Hurtling over mulched back yard;
As survival can be very hard.

Australia – land of stark extremes
Escarpments built on miners' dreams
Flaunts high-tech and Internet
But grinds to a halt – when wet!

Sudden squalls – monsoon-like rains
Though rare - gush headlong, flooding drains
Bone dry roads turn into mires
In sharp contrast to fierce bush fires!

(c) Poet in the woods 2016

Sunday, 31 January 2016

Sir Terry Wogan (1938-2016)

Another star falls from the skies
An Irish icon – sad surprise;
Just one more victim of “Big C”,
Sir Terry, as he came to be,

Celebrity extraordinaire
Whose cheeky voice boomed everywhere
For well nigh fifty years, is gone
But great memories will linger on.

A morning spark, gift of the gab
Who encouraged us to “Fight the Flab”
Whose stock-in-trade was repartee
On old Auntie BBC.

Breakfast chatter, Eurovision
A smattering of self-derision
With “Children in need” a brand new start
Wogan touched the Nation’s heart.

The Limerick lilt caused us to smile
And banish dreariness a while;
Great mainstay and a household name
We shall not see his like again.

(c) Poet in the woods 2016

Friday, 29 January 2016

Gumming up the Works!

Leaves Down Under are a threat
Disaster beckons when it’s wet
Roofs, barely sloping, meet the eye
Affording views when all is dry.

While native gums are always green,
Dried leaf litter’s often seen
Swirling crisply down the street
Backyards - alas - cannot stay neat.

Most homes - just one storey high
Are vast - with gutters that do try
To channel the torrential rain
Which can cause flash floods on the plain.

These sudden storms pelt down with force
A reminder, far too late of course,
That gutters should of leaves be clear
As blockages too soon appear!

In no time many overflow
Causing havoc down below
Wallpaper crinkles, carpets rot…
NO! Australia isn’t always hot!

(c) Poet in the woods

Thomas - getting into a Flap!

In the backyard, nature stirs
We all feel lazy; the cat purrs
Stretching out its fluffy paw
To the swinging cat flap on the door.

Buzzing cicadas can be heard
With the rustle of a swooping bird
The scattered remnants of our meal
Attracting ants – but no big deal…

Adult chat is such a bore
So Thomas climbs down to explore
There’s a motor bike and barbecue
And straggly paths to wander through…

His mind’s eye now rewinds the tape;
From walled-in garden – no escape
But the cat, tired of the heat, bolts through
Into kitchen shadows – Thomas too!

(c) Poet in the woods 2016

Tuesday, 26 January 2016

The House of the Blue Wren

Here, nestling in the peaceful Hills
A walk from church and playing fields
With memories on windowsills
O’er sloping plot,
Grevilleas and camellias grow
With native plants that clearly show
A happy medley below;
A sun-filled spot!

Behind, away from prying eyes,
Raised flowerbeds are a surprise
Despite the sun, the parsley tries
To hold its own;
In dappled shade we dine and chat
The subjects vary – this and that
While wrens on pumpkin seeds grow fat;
We’re not alone!

A peep inside this Hill retreat
Which dominates suburban street
Where nuances of blue compete
With sky beyond
In every nook and cranny flows
Peace, tranquillity, repose
This “flock” of blue wrens clearly knows
Love here is fond!

(c) Poet in the woods 2016

Saturday, 23 January 2016

More Snarled-Up Brussels!

Brussels heaves, it’s sad to say
With traffic jams that last all day
The Ring, a Seventies’ invention,
A pitted, strong bone of contention!

Road blockages – cars nose-to-tail -
Begin at dawn and never fail
To fray the tempers of commuters
Who ventilate by beeping hooters.

Bad weather adds additional joys;
Roadworks – one of Brussels’ ploys
To make the motorists despair;
Out come the cones when spring is here!

No logic in road markings too
Each day’s a challenge – stoppage new!
Road haulage transport is a curse;
Police and ambulance come first

When an accident occurs
But in the rush-hour, no one stirs
As traffic chaos takes its toll
Of medieval town with modern role.

High-rise car parks are too few
Streets often blocked – few trams glide through
Crushed, standing travellers on the bus
Long streams of cars ahead of us!

A suburban rail-link underway
But will it keep the cars at bay?
The Transport Minister is fraught
As budget purse-strings are kept taut!

A crumbling viaduct must go
Metro upgrades, good but slow
So for those who’ve given up the wheel
“Mobility” has a hollow feel!

Gridlock - a daily headline splash!
This meeting hub needs urgent cash
The airport’s really quite close by
But snarled-up taxi costs are high!

For art and tapestries well known
For Eurocrats a second home
Brussels hums - but there’s a snag
In terms of transport it’s a drag!

(c) Poet in the woods 2016

Wednesday, 20 January 2016

Hand in Glove!

She wore white cotton gloves to drive -
The steering wheel red hot inside
The car, although parked near a tree,
Caught in the sun’s harsh glare would be!

To protect the leather from the heat
A thick pile rug on every seat
Blast furnace warmth attacked our eyes
Full air-conditioning is wise!

For nearly three months heat prevails
Rain is rare – but never fails
To be a source of joy Down Under
Like desert rats we pray for thunder!

A different January is mine
Snow has no place in Southern clime
But extremes will always catch us out:
Skin cancer beckons – as does drought!

(c) Poet in the woods 2016