72 Hours of Strikes?

Is Brussels still “The-Place-to-Be”

Where individuality is key?

Each soul strives in his own way

Life’s tricky game of chess to play!

 

Three days of strikes in bitter cold;

So, Christmas gifts remain unsold

As shopping trips are now curtailed;

Our normal life has been “derailed”.

 

Some metro, bus and trams still run

Check STIB’s website for each one …

But pickets may disturb our day:

Familiar moan about poor pay …

 

Meanwhile, cold rain means soggy views

Adding to today’s sad news…

As drawn-out, forthright talks persist

With peace encumbered by high risk… 

(c) Poet in the woods 2025

In a Word - Brrrr!

My terrace, now clothed in pure white,

Presents a truly awesome sight!

Trapped leaves cut through this fragile veil

Bird footprints pattern tiny trail…

 

All looks so pristine - but beware

Ice can get trapped under there.

So, should I step out when it’s cold?

Crisp, snowy walks are oversold!

 

My car's passed on; it’s had its day;

So, Shanks’s Pony is the way

That I get from here to there

Ergo, time to tread with care …

 

I think of those with dogs to walk;

Such daily forays can be fraught

As puddles can convert to ice

And on dark days this isn’t nice!

 

The sun fights hard to show its face;

But I have checked – there is no trace

Of warmth; just wind that bites and burns:

Proof that winter now returns …

(c) Poet in the woods 2025

Advent of the Christmas Tree

Sans government - yet Christmas tree

With lofty boughs, now proud to be

Star-studded feature in main square;

Bewitched tourists stop and stare!

 

Chalets pop up by the Bourse:

Mulled wine and gifts to tempt - of course;

While temperatures drop below

That magic 4 degrees – no snow.

 

We fish out warmer hats and coats

Wrap woollen scarves around our throats

Leaving home when it’s still dark;

Did we remember where to park?

 

Quaint shops put on their brightest show

Overhead the street lights glow;

A sense of expectation reigns…

“What! More STIB strikes?” a voice complains!

(c) Poet in the woods 2025

Frothy Coffee Thoughts!

The wisteria on my terrace grieves;

Snow sprinkles cling to its tired leaves

The sky, now iron-grey, opaque

Like icing on a Christmas cake.

 

They warned us of it, yesterday;

My gloves and scarves, once put away

Must once more hang in entrance hall

Today, must I go out at all?

 

Friends come and go in wintry light

Their footsteps muffled, wrapped up tight

Our Indian summer on the wane

Dark mornings now with icy rain…

 

This outlook grey spawns thoughts of grey

I have no guided tours today…

Just a few scattered thoughts to mull;

Life may be cold but never dull.

 

Life happens, we must weave our thread

So, I abandon my warm bed;

First stop on this slate-tinged day:

Hot coffee lures me – I obey!

(c) Poet in the woods 2025

Gremlins Galore!

Life doesn’t always go your way

Those pesky gremlins love to play

Upsetting apple carts galore;

If you show nerves, they do it more!

 

Life isn’t one long peaceful ride:

Troubles queue to get inside

Our would-be tidy lives and riot;

No good screaming out: “Be quiet!”

 

They plumb our weakness, pierce our shell

Just when things are going well;

When we’re bothered, feeling stressed

That’s the moment they love best.

 

Far be it from me to complain

As all of us, at times, feel strain

But you have to wonder why

Annoying clouds block out our sky.

 

Our path with obstacles is strewn

We see the dark side of the moon;

It’s hard to learn that life means risks;

Thank God the light, though faint, persists…

(c) Poet in the woods 2025

Late Afternoon Walk

We venture out, our scarves wrapped tight

Dogs and owners hove in sight;

By rough-hewn logs, we watch them pass

Intent upon their daily task…

 

The misty sun outlines beech trees

Whose leaves gyrate in autumn frieze;

This “golden rain” lights up my muse

A healthy crunch felt under shoes!

 

Sometimes, a jogger ambles by

With face determined, hair awry

Or couples, hand in hand, sedate

Lost to the world on private date…

 

Dark shadows lengthen – it is dusk

The wood holds no one else but us;

Bold street lights beckon through the trees…

We treasure moments such as these!

(c) Poet in the woods 2025

Drève de Bonne Odeur, Boitsfort

On Worry

Challenges come in many guises

The unexpected spawns surprises:

The false note in life’s merry song

A step misplaced makes fear’s grip strong…

 

Predictions – are just that – unknown;

Some nasty bug may trot along,

Or scary circumstance brand-new

May leave us frightened, shocked or blue.

Our confidence takes a hard knock

Confusion hits us – we take stock;

We feel at sea, or inner ear

 Plays up - so life becomes a blur …

 

Doubts plague us all from time to time

A personal dark cloud dulls our shine

The Universe makes us annoyed;

But all get anxious, dixit Freud!*

 

Of course, we know life isn’t smooth

We have to fight on and improve!

We run this gauntlet all our lives;

Thank goodness Folks, that Hope survives! 

(c) Poet in the woods 2025

* Sigmund Freud founder of psycho-analysis (1856-1939)

Unearthing Truth

Oft early darkness shrouds our thought;

But inner moods perhaps are caught

in fleeting glance, or gentle sigh …

Where hidden depths reach for the sky.

 

So often, feelings must be hid

Hence, white lies do what they are bid;

A smile that’s forced, does not convince

Or briefly fools us – at a pinch!

 

Truth and reality are gems

But through those damned screens, it depends;

Such tech-links mean our aura’s lost

Beware slick scam or double-cross …

 

Statesmen know the game to play

Their fancy rhetoric can sway …

Yet we should always be aware

What lurks behind the glossy stare!

 

That’s why an honest soul is rare;

A friendship built on trust and care

Can tell a harsh truth which is tough;

How many do this? Not enough!

(c) Poet in the woods 2025

The Buzz at Zaventem!

Drones are hard workers; used to be

Think of hives and busy bee

Then the word took on new meaning:

To drone – a boring way of speaking.

 

But words evolve, new thoughts accrue

Now drones take flight and spy on you!

No longer seen as just a toy,

They buzz round airports* and annoy!

 

Surveillance takes on a new guise;

Remote-controlled, its roving eyes

Can capture everything we do

No longer safe. what can we do?

 

Though progress has its strong plus side

Not all is rosy; it can hide

A dark intrusive motivation,

So, I observe, with trepidation …

(c) Poet in the woods 2025

* i.e. 4th November, 2025: Drones spotted atbove Zaventem airport - flights delayed

 

A Woolly Hypothesis

Live each day right to the full!

Life is like a ball of wool

With vibrant colours all its own

Unique, amazing and to tone!

 

Each skein is warm and clings life long

Somehow you weave your own song;

Though it may twist, it will not break

But knots may take time to un-make!

 

Whether damp or grimy, it stays strong

Reminding you where you belong;

Moreover, it can be rewound

Hence, memories once lost, are found!

 

It unwinds gently through the years…

At times unravelling due to cares

But with resilience it is spun

Our heart and soul rolled into one!

 

(c) Poet in the woods 2025