A WABO Walkabout!

Through leafy glade, past dreamlike ponds,

Uprooted trees and fernlike fronds

Blue skies with fluffy clouds amaze;

Shy, fragile violets meet our gaze!

 

Dirt track, with ruts and small stones strewn

Welcomes us this afternoon;

This beechwood canopy is cool;

We pause awhile by sunlit pool...

 

WABO* walkers out in force

Signposted route, par for the course

But we must have been ‘distrait’

We missed an arrow, took wrong way…

 

The paths diverged, which one to choose?

Our photocopied map had clues

But somehow, we had lost the plot

Did it matter? It did not!

 

Kids on bikes and neighbours passed

We found our way back home – at last

In WABO’s garden, we drank tea

And enjoyed a concert – free!

(c) poet in the woods 2025

Organised by WABO - the Flemish Cultural Centre of WAtermael-BOitsfort

43 Avenue Delleur, 1170 - Brussels

Pre-Conclave Thoughts

I wake up; blank sheet – April skies

Would a raindrop walk be wise?

Spring green gets cracking at slick pace

Roadside knotweed fights for space!

 

In nature, as in life, it’s true

Humans hate a vacuum too

So, Roman Catholics feel alone

Faced, alas, with empty throne…

 

Meanwhile, Pope Francis lies in state;

While cardinals will soon debate

Who can fill those bright red shoes;

The rumour mill emits few clues…

 

The ‘under-eighties’ votes must cast;

The Catholic Church, evolving fast,

Knows spirituality will weigh

In the balance – but which way?

 

Small State - but influence worldwide

Mixed press (which cannot be denied);

How long before the ‘white smoke’ round?

Will he who wins abjure the crown*?

(c) Poet in the woods 2025

* aka tiara

Update: Robert Francis Prevost (born 1955) from Chicago was promoted to cardinal by Pope Francis in 2024 and elected Pope on 8th May, 2025.

He will be known as Pope Leo XIV.

Vatican Vacancy

The Faithful so admired this Pope

To whom the conclave gave their vote;

His was an unexpected voice

But time has proved him a wise choice.

 

He showed great care for the world’s poor

Was to other Faiths an open door

He warmed the hearts of those he met

Pope Francis – we cannot forget.

 

On Easter Sunday he was there,

In Papal white robes and wheelchair.

Though faint of voice he blessing gave

Hosanna crowds made friendly wave!

 

But his health at eighty-eight

Was failing and had caused debate;

For five weeks it was touch and go

His recovery was slow.

 

Back from the clinic, hopes were high

Our Argentinian still seemed spry;

But this euphoria soon took flight

As his soul departed at first light.

 

Many, engulfed in deep sorrow,

Can pay their last respects tomorrow;

This good man will be much missed

Who will continue sacred tryst?

 

The Vatican must soon recall

Its Cardinals to voting hall.*

Of church reform there is great need

Rome’s shepherd must be up to speed…

(c) Poet in the woods 2025

* aka the Sistine Chapel

 

 

Musing on Easter Saturday

Mid-April and the warm sun shines!

My terrace chairs, once caked in grime

Are now a sparkling white again

My plants all watered (there’s no rain).

 

Just little pleasures when alone

I’m proud to nurture my small home;

I flop down on deckchair, relax

While birds in nearby wood have chats…

 

I often wonder what they say;

Like languages, each has its way

Of calling out for its new mate

To feather nest and propagate.

 

Surrounded now by petals mauve

My wisteria forms a grove

Unseen by those who pass on by

But I espy them, on the sly…

 

Easter Saturday - at last

Mother Nature does each task

With precision, right on cue

I clean French windows – and see through!

 

The Easter break means friends away

No news of traffic jams today

I sip my drink on terrace neat

And close my eyes, life is complete!

(c) Poet in the woods 2025

Little Manchester in Brussels!

Let’s take a walk round Molenbeek

Near calm canal of Charleroi

Where factories would fortunes make

Redolent of Brussels’ power.

 

A thriving rag trade settled here;

Much wood and metal craftmanship

Bronze statues had a long career*

Workers’ housing was close-knit.

 

Coffee roasters, flour mills

Here was bread first mass-produced!

Fast techniques shop floors soon drilled

New-fangled tools found rapid use.

 

Transport and energy were cheap

So “Little Manchester” was born

The 19^th century saw its peak;

Today it wakes to quieter dawn.

 

Much to take in and digest;

Where is this labour force today?

The Fonderie now does its best

To put this lost world on display.

(c) Poet in the woods 2025

 

* La Fonderie -  aka the Industrial and Labour Museum - is on the site of the Compagnie des Bronzes.

27 rue de Ransfort  1080 Brussels

On the Pitfalls of Procrastination

There is so much we’re forced to do

Endless tasks can block our view.

On many sides we’re all assailed;

Vital rendezvous derailed!

 

So, when we’ve masses on our plate

We’re tempted to procrastinate;

A useful word with Latin roots

Which sure as Hell our lifestyles suits!

 

But is it wise? Why brook delay?

Things can change fast in a day

And “putting off” what must be done

Means dark clouds can hide our sun.

 

Bills must be paid and forms filled in

As deadlines loom; you cannot win

There is no help for it, I’ve tried

Procrastinate means bumpy ride!

(c) Poet in the woods 2025

Sizing Things Up!

It isn’t size that matters,

Though that's what people say

I find it is the little little things

That often make my day…

 

With the world in turmoil

A visit from a friend

Or phone call unexpected

Can buck this scary trend.

 

As when all is said and done

We’re really tiny pawns;

How can we put the world to rights

On every day that dawns?

 

Real treasures in my personal book

Can be the sun that shines

Or a sudden memory

Recalling happy times…

(c) Poet in the woods 2025