A Moment of Madness

Ye Gods! Old Feb is back again
The shortest month with cold and rain
New Year’s resolutions past
Shunted aside – put out to grass.

Christmas bills we hope are paid
It’s tightening-the-belt time, I’m afraid
For optimists the days get longer
Spring will soon be here – I wonder…

I look around me – all is bleak
Barren branches – no birds tweet
A distant owl hoots in the wood
Seeking a mate just as he should.

Spare a thought for Valentine
Whose feast on week-end falls this time
Overworked florists selling roses
Red of course in loving posies.

An ideal gift for lovers’ tryst
Is Belgian chocolates; sales are brisk
All of a flurry, we enthuse
And forget - just briefly - winter blues!

(c) Poet in the woods 2014

Keeping up with (Inigo) Jones

To Banqueting Hall, by Inigo Jones
In classical style in Portland stones
From London taxi I alight
At entrance, still festooned in white.

An audio tour is here proposed
Which, aided by big panels, shows
The glorious ceilings, Ruben's work
There are 8 in all, bought from Antwerp.

It seems a series of bad fires
Destroyed much; but what's left inspires.
Great pageants have been here displayed
Ambassadors received; masques played.

The pride of James, our "Scottish" king
It served as site to purge Charles' sin
Ending his life upon the block
Black velvet trappings hid a lot.

But faithful Juxon heard last words
Recording them for future ears.
Last royal scene, when Parliament came round
Begging Will and Mary to accept the crown.

Repaired, embellished, pulled about
At one time a chapel for the devout.
It had become a museum piece
Victoria had seen to this.

Of late restored to erstwhile splendour
'Tis sometimes used (as this November).
A sign proclaims its dual role
As many are the scenes it stole.

No need these days to advertise
Des. Res. For rent - it's no high rise!
Banqueting Hall with stunning views
Remains the place the Top Brass use.

(c) Poet in the woods 2014

(Written in 1990)



The Banqueting Hall

Inspiration

Inspiration is a funny thing
It rises like a new born spring
Bubbling up from deep within
Overwhelming every mundane thing.

An idea forms a pool of thought
Streams and rivers reach the port
A bright kaleidoscope* is wrought
A theme appears - tight knit and taut.

Unable now to stop the flow
The words slot into place; they know
Though I do not, where they should go
Amazed I watch each poem grow.

How does this happen? You tell me
You don’t learn this at Mother’s knee
But it’s real, a gift, a way to see
A link with the divine, maybe...

(c) Poet in the woods 2014



* Kaleidoscope effect

Late Night Movie?

It’s a strange experience coming home
And being once again – alone
Since for two months I have known
A loving family of my own.

It’s nice to share and exchange views
Sit together, watch the news
Eat breakfast with my Mum; enthuse
And cultivate in Oz my muse.

With no housework, one can dream
And let brand new impressions stream
Past my inner eye unseen
Yet recorded, like a movie scene.

Now back in Europe’s cold and dark
Where jet-lag makes my time clock start
At some unearthly hour, my heart
Relives these moments, gives them spark.

(c) Poet in the woods 2014

Re-Birth

Those who pass along Life's way
Embedded in a rut
Don't bring their brain cells into play
But die in their own hut.

Routine spells death to those who think
Old habits hold us strong
But if of real life we would drink
We've got to quit the throng.

Many are the hapless souls
Who never see the light.
And eke out life in concrete holes
Without a single fight.

"Why question things?" is all they say,
"My road is clearly traced.
We know what to expect each day."
All want of change suppressed.

How sad to see the drooping eyes
Of human rank and file.
When all things hold their own surprise
And those who feel it, smile.

There's an inner glow in those who've made
This vital mental step.
It means no longer they're afraid
To cast far out their net.

The wonders of this Planet Earth
Cry out to be employed.
And only through this second birth
Can true life be enjoyed!

(Written in 1983)

(c) Poet in the woods 2014

Thomas - at 1 Month Old

My nephew now is one month old
He is, if I may make so bold,
A pure delight, a little treasure
Though he allows his Mum no leisure.

He has passed the first survival test
And snuggles warmly at the breast
His eyes stay open more and more
The world is new – much to explore.

This tiny scrap is gaining weight
After a shaky start; that’s great!
He’s growing stronger every day,
Flexing his muscles is child's play.

Though blessed indeed with many clothes
The heat is such that few are those
That he has worn – it is too hot
The almost-nude look hits the spot!

His parents, keen to learn the ropes
Interpret all his cries; (one hopes!)
This isn't something one can teach
For Thomas – it’s his mode of speech.

As brand new auntie, I delight
In the knowledge that this tiny mite
Who bears our name, will one day be
A pillar of our family!

(c) Poet in the woods 2014

The Year of the Horse

I leave Australia in the heat
Another destiny to meet;
Past rush hour, Adelaide traffic's light
I'm well in time for my long flight.

My Singapore Airlines in-flight news*
Lays the emphasis on Chinese views;
On 31st Jan they usher in
"Year of the Horse" with friends and kin.

There's a raw fish salad on our tray
Spiced up - it takes my breath away
But for many Chinese on this flight
Traditional food is their delight.

I push the salad round my plate
And stop awhile to meditate
On the "peaceful blessings" here expressed
By the Chinese at their New Year fest.

Does this article really speak to me?
For those of "a certain age" I see
"Lucky money" wrapped in red may come ...
If so, this "horse year" could be fun!

* In-flight magazine for January 2014

(c) Poet in the woods 2014