Thomas - at 2 Months Old

Little Thomas, wreathed in smiles
And growing fast from what I see
Is slowly clocking up the miles
As he visits Granny regularly.

I saw him first at six days old
A tiny boy child on my lap
But even then his gaze was bold
Albeit brief - between each nap.

At this side of the world it’s hard
To watch his progress; I rely
On photos taken when off guard
Each expression captured on the fly.

My brother likes his role as Dad
At 59 he learns the ropes
And Angela so loves her lad
Investing in him all her hopes.

His wardrobe’s vast – so many clothes
Both hand-me-downs and some brand new
He’s even got a Mum who sews
And he isn’t always dressed in blue!

Too small as yet to realise
Today – March 8th – he’s two months old
In all our hearts he takes first prize
Thomas is worth more than gold!

(c) Poet in the woods 2014

Indulgence

This constant cold and lack of sun
Depresses each and everyone
I’ve no appointments for today
The snow has swept them all away.

I force myself to go outdoors
To buy a few essential stores
I wrap up tight and face the fray
Which neighbours shall I meet today?

The snow’s no thrill, I must beware
So I totter down the hill with care.
No one, but no one in the street
In every sense I have cold feet!

Inside the shop the bright displays
Attempt to catch my listless gaze
I’m so depressed I treat myself
And grab some pancakes from the shelf.

I’m tired and bored and no one cares
All I get are stony stares
But I’ve turned my walk into a spree
And now shall have a tasty tea!

(c) Poet in the woods 2014

Rubbish Tips

A word on bins – you know those things
In which you put old scraps
And baked bean tins and chicken wings
Leftovers in cling wraps.

There’s the apple core, peelings galore
Or empty cereal box
Dust from brushes, dried flower rushes
Used tissues, waste from dogs!

Think of the heat, the windy street
And relentless sea-blown breezes
Which buffet the bin, give it a spin
And spread nasty diseases!

New year, new deal, I make appeal
That you throw out with care
Put lids on tight, wrap scraps up right
So the fox stays in his lair!

(c) Poet in the woods 2014

Carnival in Binche

Shrove Tuesday – our prelude to Lent
Has crept up unawares
To have a pancake my intent
But my crowded diary stares.

There is no time for milk and flour
And all my eggs are eaten
I have work for every daylight hour
And a long-fixed evening meeting.

Here in Belgium it’s a special day
Known throughout the nation
Where the Gilles de Binche hold sway
With their noisy celebration.

With champagne and oysters they begin
Their dance through crowded streets
Drums and pipes make lively din
In the Grand’place each group meets.

The white mask hides each neighbour’s face
The costumes carefully sewn
(Textiles once thrived in this place)
The whole town is a clone!

Their trademark headgear – ostrich plumes
In afternoon display
Pelted with oranges one assumes
Before they’re put away.

Surreal survivor of the past
By UNESCO* recognised
The carnival in Binche’s a masque
That dazzles modern eyes.

(c) Poet in the woods 2014

* in 2003

Cold Thoughts

It occurs to me to wonder why
This cold and bitter wind
That cuts through clothes and burns our ears
Continues. Have we sinned?

Is this a punishment dealt out
As a warning from “out there”
To freeze our lust for battlegrounds
Because we just don’t care

To treat our world (it’s all we have)
With patience and respect
In other places earthquakes, drought
Poverty and neglect.

Or is it just another phase
Of a pattern we can’t see
Divine intervention – climate change
On our conscience let it be!

(c) Poet in the woods 2014

Warm Enough

It was warm enough to sit outside
Under duck blue sky and egg yolk sun
The first time this year that I’d tried
To simply let the minutes run.

Carefree and joyful feelings grew
As I felt the rays play on my brow
At last this warmth is getting through
Nature will get cracking now!

This winter has dragged on and on
Sharp winds, deep snow and daytime dark
I’m really hoping we’re on song
It’s time for Jack Frost to depart!

I dare to wear a lighter coat
But keep my trusty scarf nearby
As I hear the birds all clear their throat
And limber up for love’s sweet cry.

(c) Poet in the woods 2014

My Friend Eki

A rare day – there's no guided tour
Time to go out and explore
The latest fashions in the shops
And get myself some summer tops.

In blazing sun with friend in tow
Avoiding endless tourist flow
We venture down this quaint back street
Where style and flair shake hands and meet.

In Rue de Flandre - Vintage Phase II
A boutique of the almost new
Has hand-picked items on display
Which draw in clients every day!

The owner is a friend of mine
A fashionista quite sublime
Whose charm and sunny smile ensure
That passers-by come through the door!

(c) Poet in the Woods 2014

The shop is sadly now closed owing to COVID ...