The Mystified Poet

High spikes on blog graph I see

You fuel my poet’s mill

I don’t know how you find me

But it’s always a big thrill!

 

Perhaps you daily surf or scroll;

Do keywords make you pause?

This is,  I feel, the poet’s role

To attract – without applause …

 

I dabble in a myriad themes

But keep my topics light;

Political events it seems

Make YOU out there – alight …

 

Upon my blog which you peruse

For an instant in your day;

But who you are I have no clues

Most live so far away!

 

My inspirations gently flow

As life affords us much;

Now “on-line” is the way to go

So let us keep in touch!

(c) Poet in the woods 2025

Every Dog must have His Day!

Man’s Best Friend, his loyal hound

Who greets his master with a bound

And wagging tail, when he comes home

Deserves a special day – his own.

 

I see on Internet this date*

When Doggy Lovers celebrate

Their faithful Fidos with a treat;

It’s of World Dog Day I speak!

 

As I live by forest glade

Canines of all breeds parade

Past kitchen window every day;

Man and beast form live display!

 

Intent upon their daily task

To answer call of nature fast,

Up steep hill they come and go

In rain or shine, hail, wind or snow …

 

At times they bark, so I look out;

Determined owners must wield clout

Obliged to keep them on tight rein:

A case of who leads who – again!

(c) Poet in the woods 2025

* 26th August

Fatal Attraction?

I’m sometimes asked how I’m inspired:

A famous singer has retired?*

Does climate change new fears evoke

Or those in power rock our boat?

 

I glean ideas from daily news

Learn from friends why they enthuse

Or find on Internet new theme

On which my muse can feast and dream.

 

I latch onto the ‘here and now’:

Ideas burgeon (God knows how);

I try to capture fleeting thought

 As every ode has lifespan short!

 

As for books, the title’s key

A pun, I find, will often be

Somewhat of a mild temptation

Sealed with clever punctuation!!

 

No charge, no adverts, just pert prose;

So, thanks for being one of those

Who passes by from time to time

And finds amusement in my rhyme!

(c) Poet in the woods 2025

* e.g. Julio Inglesias  - Spanish singer (born 1943)

 

On Reading Between the Lines!

Each day, I delight to see

How many of you “follow” me.

On line of course, not down the street,

Whom among you, will I meet?

 

So, yes Folks, this is what I do

Strike a gentle chord with you.

And no, I never use A.I.

“It’s all original!”, I cry.

 

My blog is read around the clock!

My cheeky rhymes must hit the spot

With regulars from overseas

Who love my puns; my playful tease…

 

How did you find me? I’m confused;

A word search based on current news?

Or a theme which you hold dear?

It’s flattering to find you here.

 

I treat all subjects with respect

Unlike some posts on Internet

My aim is simply to bring joy

And with awkward subjects toy …

(c) Poet in the woods 2025

July 21st - some Reflections

On National Day, we felt the “drache”

But what is Belgium without splash?

Stands sprang up near Poelaert’s pile*

Hot frites enjoyed by rank and file!

 

The King’s traditional speech had bite

Reminder of the E.U.’s might;

How it’s more vital now than ever

For all of us to pull together …

 

The Police and Army did their stuff

We learn that these careers are tough!

The Cour des Comptes held Open Day:

Neoclassic splendour on display!

 

An impressive tank held kids in awe

Huge coastguard speedboat to explore…

Bold military bands played fast

As two giants glided past!

 

The Governmental year is done;

This country briefly beats as one;

Strict measures will require restraint …

Today, however, no complaint! 

(c) Poet in the woods 2025

* The Lawcourts

Note: drache is Brussels slang for heavy rainfall

My Over-the-Top Mum!

Words fail me; what to say or do

When you, Mama, hit 1-0-2?

No card exists for this high score;

As for gifts - do you need more?

 

Objets d’art encourage dust;

Is Belgian chocolate still a must?

The sad thing is I cannot share

Your once-in-a-lifetime dare!

 

The ‘tyranny of distance‘ rules!

Brussels swelters while Oz cools

It’s mid-winter in July

While sunbeams glorify our sky!

 

Rare soul indeed with this long run

Your Memory Book is next to none!

You welcome those who come to call

Alert as always, on the ball!

 

I wonder how you’ll celebrate

This “I-can’t-quite-believe-it” date;

Hang out the flags and roll the drum

For my 1-0-2 dear Mum!

(c) Poet in the woods 2025

Isabella (7) with Mum (102)

Thomas is not Stumped!

To root out problems can be hard;

New challenge for the family bard!

Mummy’s yard is overgrown

Tree stump removal skills - unknown.

 

So, Thomas, at his Dad’s behest,

Wonders what action is best.

Decision:  just brute strength and time;

Dig, tug and pull – all should be fine!

 

But hidden deep in wintry ground

Tenacious are these roots, and sound!

A real man’s job, nephew infers -

Time perhaps to earn his spurs*?

 

A daring tug-of-war ensues

Isabella is enthused;

While Mum admires, a few steps back,

Thomas, her bold lumberjack!

(c) Poet in the woods 2025

* The Black Prince earned his spurs at the battle of Crécy in 1346 aged 16. Thomas is only 11.

 

Musing at Breakfast

I wake up, peer out - phew, it's hot!

I’m still here – my friends are not

They’re off in droves - by plane or car

To Greece, or Spain or somewhere far!

 

Brussels buzzes, dry and warm;

Tourists in the Grand’Place swarm

Admiring our Baroque main square

Indulging in an ice-cold beer…

 

Fierce sun for pralines is bad news

But over ‘frites’ we all enthuse

Not cheap, I grant you, but delish

And yes, they can be served with fish!

 

Little pleasures, it is clear

Perhaps that’s why I love it here;

In compact, zigzagged cobbled streets

'Tis true - the heart of Europe beats!

 

I stumble down my dusty stairs

Housework beckons, but who cares?

It’s Saturday and I have time

Hence this modest little rhyme!

(c) Poet in the woods 2025

Framed for Auntie!

This composition poised, untried

Positioned neatly, just inside

An ornate frame, front-facing view

Shows Isabella’s grin is new!

 

Dame Nature knows a thing or two

As growing up is hard to do;

To get adult teeth, we’re wired

It’s just patience that’s required!

 

The Pillow Fairy knows the score

That front gap wasn’t there before

But tooth replacement does take time

And occasions this short rhyme.

 

Thomas, very much the man,

Has passed this stage and so he can

Look kindly on her gappy smile

Less photogenic – for a while…

(c) Poet in the woods 2025

 

Brussels - the Green Apple?

In the Twenties horse race tracks

Brought in crowds along the flats;

‘Big Apple’ prizes named New York

Skyscraper way of life soon fraught…

 

Now Brussels has an Apple too

In Place Royale – of verdant hue!

It indicates, as you should know,

Magritte’s museum down below.

 

Another surrealistic touch

To Brussels buzz we love so much!

This painter’s codes perplex, amuse:

Bowler hats, weird lighting views.

 

Daily objects juxtaposed

Horses, veils and goodness knows!

Graphic artist, smart, effete

Artwork finely drawn – unique!

 

Most famous is that cloudlike bird!

His combinations are absurd

And yet they make us pause awhile…

Say what you will, the man had style!

(c) Poet in the woods 2025

In Place Royale since October 2023

René Magritte (1898-1967) leader of the Surrealist Movement 

For Dolly Parton

 News flash!  The ending of a dream;

How sad for she who sang “Jolene”:

Death of her soul mate called Carl Dean

At eighty-two…

Though she has garnered worldwide fame

Her “Nine to Five” won’t be the same…

Now Dolly Parton’s long, long reign

Is tinged with blue.

 

This backwoods gal found love and care

From discreet husband, always there

Though never would he limelight share;

She stole the show!

As her career takes up first place

She lives life at a cracking pace

Not adding to the human race;

Hard choice, I know.

 

We think of her with piled-up hair

Hour-glass figure, in the glare

Of the spotlight, standing there

So self-assured;

But now the task that lies ahead

Is wrapped around with broken thread

As he with whom she was long wed

Is with the Lord…

(c) Poet in the woods 2025

Thomas Turns Eleven!

Our Birthday Boy stands proud and tall;

Think “Legs Eleven!” Bingo call;

Imbued now with a sense of self

He loves figures, knows their worth.

 

Since learning two and two make four,

Pragmatic, he likes to explore

Tough calculations he enjoys

He’s streets ahead of other boys!

 

He loves to read, ride on his bike

Disappearing out of sight

Around the leafy neighbourhood

At this age – freedom feels so good!

 

Some school subjects need more care

Determined, he will soon get there;

With primary school days nearly through

He’s on the verge of visions new!

 

As to what lies ahead – who knows?

There’s time to sense where the wind blows…

His knowledge grows as he advances:

His Tree of Life has many branches!

(c) Poet in the woods 2025

An Epiphany 2025

It isn’t every day I write;

How can I when the sun burns bright

And blue skies beckon me outdoors

Or keep me busy – doing chores…

 

This year sees Seoul up in arms

And drought affecting Aussie farms;

While Jimmy Carter lies in state

And mourners his life venerate.

 

We wonder what this new year brings

With Donald waiting in the wings

 And Gaza still prone to attack;

World politics stays on the rack.

 

I don’t pretend the know the score;

Old Christmas trees lie on the floor

But Epiphany shows saddened face

As festive frolics slow their pace...

(c)  Poet in the woods 2025

 Jimmy Carter - 39th US President

The Underside of Christmas

It’s Christmas Day; now let me see

If I can play a part

Around the world my rhymes run free

But will they touch your heart?

 

I think of those who are alone

Or miss a loved one dear

Or those displaced who have no home

And live in constant fear…

 

To them bright lights and tinselled joy

May have a hollow sound

While others welcome God’s small boy

With shepherds all around ...

 

A time of excess, bonhomie

In which small kids delight

Around a baubled Christmas Tree

While those who grieve sit tight …

(c) Poet in the woods 2024

Isabella - at Seven!

Cool shades, pink parcel, magic wand

The wings suggest she flies beyond

The dull routine of every day

Eccentricity in play!

 

Why toe the line and just conform?

It’s seven years since she was born;

Assurance beams from deep inside

Isabella is our pride!

 

Well-spoken now, she chats with ease

Making friends she finds a breeze;

My niece has chutzpah* gift in spades

At only seven she persuades!

(c) Poet in the woods 2024

* = Extreme confidence!

Thomas Skywalker!

His new horizons filled with stars

Thomas sets his sights on Mars

Or maybe jolly Jupiter?

As the Moon is all we see from here!

 

That space is vast and we’re so small

Is what holds him in deep thrall;

He puzzles over Outer Space;

New habitats for human race?

 

The Greeks and Romans scanned the skies;

Astrology was highly prized

They used the stars to guide their way

Ere telescopes came into play…

 

As doubtless Thomas has found out

The Ancients worked each orbit out;

They conjured up the Milky Way

Advancing maths still used today!

 

Held in two hands - our Galaxy?

Here Outer Space is plain to see!

What a rich-veined science to explore

Soon Thomas will know much, much more! 

(c) Poet in the woods 2024

A Sequin of Events?

Our spangled beauty struts her stuff;

Can one of sequins have enough?

Wee belly dancer, I declare

Was she born with all this flair?

 

Her hair this time is pulled back tight

But those rogue wisps look just right!

Each outfit Isabella wears

Is guaranteed to cause keen stares …

 

Mama’s sharp eye means she looks cute

But whether fashionable - is moot;

This dressing-up lark - so much fun

How Auntie loves each pert pose done!

 

In childhood make-believe is key

Imagination must float free;

In time she’ll knuckle down, conform

Or wriggle in a uniform ...

 

But for now, our precious pearl

Can live her dream as sparkles swirl;

What’s on her mind at this young age?

Will she one day act on stage?

(c) Poet in the woods 2024

Perched High!

On car rooftop – what is new?

Perfect for a better view!

Thomas seems relaxed, laid back

Torture-free, they’re on the rack!

 

This time, my niece is dressed in blue

Completely frill-free, sober hue;

Do I detect in this coy pose

A brand-new style? If so, it shows.

 

With wide-brimmed hat perched on his head,

Thomas gazes straight ahead

While Isabella’s locks protect

From blazing sunrays her swan neck!

 

Once more, a moment caught on-line

Which gives occasion for this rhyme;

They grow so fast; she’s nearly seven

With pre-teen Thomas soon eleven!

(c) Poet in the woods 2024

Frolicking on West Beach, South Australia

Though end of winter, spring awaits!

Time to pack the picnic plates

Put rug and basket in the car;

Excursion to the coast – hurrah!

 

Australia’s beaches never end…

A parking spot? No problem, friend!

Down here there’s space for one and all

To read or swim, or simply sprawl.

 

Here Tom and Isabella thrive

Their smiling faces so alive

Decked out in sunhats pink and blue

The colours tell you who is who!

 

Still young enough to learn through play

With Mum and Dad to guide their way

They too must rest on days like these

On sand - resembling crumbly cheese!

 

Here Nature rules - with no high-rise

How Cook* once saw it; a surprise!

Allowed to roam through dunes of sand

They too enjoy the Promised Land!

(c) Poet in the woods 2024

* Captain James Cook (1728 -1779) credited with discovering Australia

Bin Maiden to the Fore!

Whether young or old, we lend a hand;

The wheelie-bin must needs be “manned”

Although, in this case it is clear

That pushy Isabella’s here!

 

Australia’s climate means no frost

But year round, food scraps must be tossed;

So, mindful of the stink they cause

Bins are often kept outdoors!

 

As Nature’s never far away

A heavy lid keeps ants at bay;

Collections, vital, are quite rare:

Only twice a month I hear.

 

Consumers, carefree, chuck at will

For recycling or landfill

Leaving Councils to act fast

Collating is an awesome task!

 

Of course we’d all like to be “green”

As so much wastage is obscene;

Will paper soon replace this plastic

Or is this just a dream fantastic? 

(c) Poet in the woods 2024