Playing Hide and Seek?

Scurrying clouds block out the sun
Raindrops splatter terrace wall
Who thought that springtime had begun,
Global warming held in thrall?

21 degrees recorded
In February; surely not?
But no brownie points awarded
Belgium's still a chilly spot!

This uncompromising grey
Imparts a dullness I can't shake
The lack of sun makes me dismay
How much more winter can we take?

But hey! Along my cobbled street
Spring green, still cautious, starts to show
Mother Nature, though discreet,
Whispers and wee buds now grow!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

The Conversion - Day Three!

It's happened! Now work's underway
To convert next door, to my dismay
My garage spot, so deeply prized
And so convenient, is demised!

Henceforth my car stays in the street
To find a park is quite a feat!
At eight each morning workmen come;
With roof tiles off, bare beams see sun.

Exposed, iron girders bob and sway
Cracked, ageing brickwork on display!
A lonely light bulb hangs forlorn
Its days are numbered, wires all torn...

As Poet-in-the-Woods now writes
Beyond the terrace are new sights
Fir trees which give the street its name
The skyline dominate again.

Two men intent upon their task
Use crowbars; work proceeds quite fast
Rickety ladders propped on walls;
No safety harness – if one falls ...

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

The Magic of Music!

Music – sweet balm to our soul
Calms our worries, makes us whole
Enables us to pause, let go
And turns our hot-paced lives to slow.

We enter a dimension new
Our minds in neutral can peep through
The veiled curtain just beyond
Awareness waves its febrile wand...

There's instant magic in the air
Another mindset shimmers there
Our psyche calls to reverie
Our heightened being is set free!

Detached from our real lives, mundane
Music somehow keeps us sane
Uplifting, joyful, mood enhancing
Our spirit, wide awake, goes dancing!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

A Question of Survival?

As new doors open, old doors close
Life keeps us ever on our toes
One day our red roofs are sun-kissed
The next, lost in damp swirling mist.

Politicians everywhere lose clout
As the young on climate change speak out
For all our futures the bell tolls
Spontaneous outbursts - change of roles ...

A paradigm shift is on its way
Where ignorance has no role to play
Survival means we pull together
How will we fare in stormy weather?

Mass consumption is a curse
Resources dwindle - which is worse
Our oceans clog with plastic trash
Ever increasing greenhouse gas ...

Old tenets falter – such excess
Is leading to worldwide distress
Such progress has a hollow ring
Beware its scorpionic sting!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

Manhattan Baby Shower!

The media circus on its toes
As Meghan's royal bump now shows
Caught in the spotlight, malgré elle
Seven months on, all is swell!

A private trip to chic New York
The Press intrudes – what has she bought?
Trim in buttoned-up black coat
She looks distinguished – yet remote.

Well protected, but in view
The paparazzi stick like glue
On her State-side shopping spree
A wealth of choice for babe-to-be!

The baby shower is hers alone
Harry, wise chap, stays at home;
With Meghan the focus of all eyes
Somehow this is no surprise ...

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

R.I.P. Karl Lagerfeld (1933-2019)

There are many worried faces now;
Chanel announces the last bow
Of fashion icon, eighty plus
Who epitomised sharp style for us ...

A newsflash! This was unexpected
Only recently detected
Pancreatic cancer steals his show
And fashion circles stop mid-flow ...

Karl Lagenfeld was rarely ill
Flamboyant, he would top the bill
He counted Stars among his fans
His trademark clearly black-gloved hands!

With his daring and distinctive clothes
He definitely was one of those
Who since the Eighties walked the walk
And embraced the Zeitgeist which he caught.

A career evolved around his name
Aftershave and perfumes came
So the package, glittering and bright
Remains, though he has lost the fight ...

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

September 10th, 1933 - 19th February, 2019.

An Early Spring - or is it?

It almost feels like spring is here
As there's something special in the air
The temperatures begin to rise
Though we could suffer a surprise ...

At the end of February – last year
The «Beast-from-the-East»* growled here
Out came thick coats and gloves again
Winter dragged on - such a pain!

This time, unless I've got it wrong,
Spring is tiptoe-ing along
As aconites light up new grass
Bringing joy to those who pass

Along the cobbled paths today
Under skies devoid of grey!
Mind you, though daffs now cut a dash
Please wrap up warm – let's not be rash!

A neighbour met me in the street
We chatted, pleased again to meet
And pass the time of day in sun;
So is it true that spring has sprung?

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

* Beginning on 22 February 2018, Great Britain and Ireland were affected by a cold wave, dubbed the "Beast from the East" by the media and officially named Anticyclone Hartmut, which brought widespread unusually low temperatures and heavy snowfall to large areas.

The Status Quo - an Illusion?

Life, sadly, never stays the same
When you've got the balance right as rain:
Work, play and rest on even keel
The scales tip up – and so you feel

That madness reigns - it's so unfair!
But let's consider why we're here
And observe how collegues and close friends
Fight to cope with their loose ends ...

Dame Unexpected cannot wait
To pile up problems; we work late,
Kids fall sick, we're caught in traffic
Or there's a national strike – that's graphic!

People close-to, move away
Commitments clash - on the same day!
There's snow and wet leaves on the line
Or a family death at a bad time...

So the status quo is soon upset;
Somehow I never seem to get
My ducks all lined up in a row;
Life's river never halts its flow!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

Parc Tournay-Solvay - Boitsfort

A rash of snowdrops on the grass
While bright blue scyllas shadows cast
On the pond banks now caressed
By a lapping water fest.

Parc Tournay-Solvay in Boitsfort
Has twisting paths on forest floor;
Scaffolding and hoardings hide
This folly, once a family's pride.

Bold Flemish-Renaissance in style
With wrought-iron finials, this pile
With lofty tower and splendid view
Was an architectural dream come true!

Abandoned when its last heir died
Destroyed by arson; now inside
Where trees have sprouted, small birds nest
And bats in nooks and crannies rest.

Rose garden, fountain, woodland glade
Ancient ice house, much decayed
Walled garden, apple trees and pears
Around a bend, an Olmec stares!

Weird, delightful and remote
Several historic trees of note
It boasts a feature most parks lack
Dissection by a railway track!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019



Olmec - ancient tribe of Mexico



Address: Chaussée de la Hulpe 199, 1170 - Watermael-Boitsfort

A Touch of Yellow!

We've known warmer times; it's cold
But we must venture out, be bold
In the early morning – busy bus
With blue sky and sun – over us!

Dull traffic buzz and kids in herds
And, in every which way, birds
I watch them swoop with joyous cries
Their mass invasion - a surprise!

The bus makes many stops en route
For shopping mothers, babies cute
And brighter than with painter's brush
Twee house facades have sunny flush;

My poetic muse begins to flow
As I ponder on this early show ...
We round a bend, and then – new thrills
Pert, proud and golden daffodils!

The snow has scarcely slipped away
Yet here they are in brave display;
How many travellers are aware
Of nature's gems that lie right here?

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

A Thought for Sunday

Hey! It's the first day of the week
Sunday means a longer sleep
So we can chill and meditate
Our week has so much on its plate ...

Sadly, we can't alter time
It slips away, both yours and mine
For everyone it's new, unique
Life's a gift and time a treat!

Living 'here and now' is hard
Niggling thoughts catch us off-guard
We're distracted, go off track;
Those precious moments can't come back.

We plan or mull upon the past
Forgetting life goes by so fast
So often, it now seems to me,
We squander time; we should just be ...

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

R.I.P. Albert Finney (1936-2019)

Another heart throb bites the dust;
My favourite «Tom Jones*», suave, robust
With a wayward twinkle in his eye,
Has bid the actors' realm goodbye.

In the Sixties RADA-trained
Stage presence effortlessly obtained
Once married to Anouk Aimée
So, his accent must have been OK

Albert Finney, perhaps remembered best
As 'Hercule' on Orient Express**
With hefty moustache and broad frame
Agatha's Belgian brought him fame.

Debonnaire, engaging smile
His «Two for the Road» had style
Though 82, that rakish grin
Is how I shall remember him ...

(c) Poet in the Woods 2019



* As Tom Jones in the 1963 film, based on the 1749 book by Henry Fielding.
** 1974

(9.5.1936 - 7.2.2019)

Pig-headed?

Strange things are seen on FB news
That challenge our beliefs; let's choose
The Chinese New Year* just begun
Which symbolises wealth and fun!

The Pig – the last sign of the twelve
Shows how Chinese minds still delve
Into the secrets of the heart
Through animals – it's quite an art!

The Pig, that rotund, greedy beast,
Who's last to turn up at the Feast
Is labelled lazy - but beware
Wealth is the watchword of Pig year!

Wealth for whom? Ah, there's the rub
We're all worried. Join the club!
There's no security today
But will the Pig bring wealth our way?

(c) Poet in the woods 2019



* The year of the pig begins on 5th February 2019

Screen Magic!

The toys lie scattered on the floor
They've lost the pull they had before
Bright-coloured, ignored, unattended;
For Thomas toddlerdom is ended...

Observing nephew and wee niece
Contentment seems on the increase
Thomas, eyes fixed on the screen
Is keen on learning what words mean.

Mum's lens captures this sweet scene
Isabella looks up - pert, serene,
Her cute pose honed to a fine art
In terms of modelling – a good start!

We wonder what stirs in her mind;
She's people-friendly so she'll find
With Mummy back at work, fun things
Horizons widen; crèche begins!

A new phase burgeons – no surprise
Isabella, though small, clearly tries
To follow in big brother's wake,
What an endearing pair they make!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

After the Snowfall

The red roof tiles shine in the sun;
The neighbour's lawn has now begun
To show its pale green shade again
The street washed clean with winter rain.

This Poet-In-The-Woods admires
Life's changing scene and never tires
Of observing nature's subtle skills;
Today the sun spills through the hills ...

Feb, our shortest month, begins
We hope with magic in its wings
Sign of Aquarius in the sky
Perhaps with Cupid on the fly?

My fingers quickly press the keys
To capture changes such as these
Time for hope as underground
Nature stirs without a sound...

The miracles of life unfold
Revival happens in the cold
Although we cannot see it yet
The stage for Spring is being set!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

A Cover-Up for Belgium?

Cloud cover – Belgium lacks the sun!
With less than 40* hours, we're glum
The Observatory in Uccle declares
Jan is the darkest month in years!

How can human beings thrive?
Like plants, we need sun to survive
No wonder that depression looms
When locked away in darkened rooms...

Electric light and central heating
Provide a respite all too fleeting
As nothing beats blue skies and sun;
Will February be more fun?

Bedraggled plants make paltry show
On rooftop terrace - wreathed in snow
With red roof tiles hid out of sight
And fields around festooned in white...

Europe's muffled, damp and cold
Rare are the footprints to behold
We turn the heating up to max
Keep the lights on – and relax!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019



* 2019:Uccle Observatory registered only 37 hours and 57 mins of sun in January.

A Cry of Doom?

Thick snow or heatwave – take your choice
Global warming has a voice
Extremes of temperature ignite
Our passions and our fears; we fight

There are demonstrations, well attended
Is life as we know it, ended?
Man's inhumanity to Man
Stop global warming – if we can!

Over-consumption, plastic seas
Excessive taxes, wages freeze
The way we live is profligate
Inequality overall - too great...

Resources dwindle, fossil fuels
Leave carbon footprints, break life's rules
We'll have to learn to live with less
But how to do this causes stress ...

The world in which our kids will grow
May not have a rosy glow
We've burnt our boats, the dark smoke rises
Tomorrow may hold "bad" surprises ...

(c) Poet in the woods 2019