The Book of Autumn

As the summer gently fades away
Glossy chestnuts join the fray
Winds blowing lightly swirl the leaves
And lofty branches shed their sleeves.

The sunshine lessens day by day
The cloak of night sweeps light away
A morning chill invades the air
Wrap up warmly – or beware!

The Book of Autumn has begun
Long walks with dogs and hunter's gun
Blackberries ripen on the briar
Fruit pies and crackling logs inspire.

The sun this year - benign and kind
A gift to artists – so well timed;
Capturing Nature's rich increase
In this troubled world - brings peace.

(c) Poet in the woods 2015

Thomas - at 20 Months Old

Little boys, however cute, still grow
As their energy begins to flow
In new directions once uncharted;
Thomas on long walks has started!

He strides, determined to explore
Nearly pulling Granny to the floor!
His strength, like his blonde hair, just grows
A mini Samson – and it shows!

He's edging closer to age two
Already there's much he can do
His personality appears
Yet blonde hair flops about his ears...

Clearly, something must be done
He needs a trim – and Dad's the one
To wield the scissors; now let's see
Whether a coiffeur he can be!

(c) Poet in the woods 2015

Pope Francis and Fidel Castro

The world is in a parlous state
There's so much violence, so much hate
Natural disasters, corporate greed
And insecurity; do we need

To fill our minds with such distress?
When often our lives are a mess...
We discussed this, a dear friend and I
And both agreed that we would try

To look for goodness in our lives
Yes, “thinking positively” survives!
Amid this chaos there is hope
It takes the form of the new Pope

Whose gentleness and common sense
Break through Cuba's last defence
Castro and Francis have a chat
Now THAT is news – the world steps back!

(c) Poet in the woods 2015

Meeting: 20th September, 2015 Havana

Getting Things into Perspective

It's far too easy to complain
And whingeing people are a pain
Yet I wonder what prompts them to see
The glass half-empty – it could be

Half-full if they'd look around
Life's much to offer and astound
But we don't know how others live
So we expect what they can't give.

Our colleagues, pressured, do their best
But deadlines loom – no time to rest
Work is non–stop - we're time-poor
Warning health signs we ignore...

Cell phones now have pride of place
But high tech has an ugly face
Common courtesy is dying
Just the very old and young are trying

To make sense of this sterile art;
Computers rule – the future's dark
No wonder some poor souls complain;
Life's tough indeed in the fast lane!

(c) Poet in the woods 2015

Brussels Heritage

Brussels Heritage is vast
The influences of times gone past
And sovereigns from different lands
Have wound a pattern of rich strands.

Take architecture: there are traces
Of Gothic castle, convent places
Baroque is plentiful and proud
Art Nouveau always draws a crowd!

A touch of Rome in leafy park
Flood-lit law courts after dark
A Sacré Coeur – the Basilique*
Little Manhattan – high rise street.

To observe these treasures, take the tram
Or yellow cycle if you can
Metro travel is OK
But sights on foot blow you away!

(c) Poet in the woods 2015

* La Basilique du Sacré Coeur  - Koekelberg

Friendship - a Definition

Our friends are fascinating, fun
Each is special; every one
Plays and hears notes from our tune
Life's melody with warmth is strewn.

At any time, in any place
We can sense that look from a new face
The impression we have met before
And a spark is kindled - our hearts soar.

On the surface, what is there to see?
We're strangers and our lives may be
Running on a different track ...
Age, race or class – the odds are stacked

Against us making such a bond
Yet it happens and our souls grow fond.
Blood ties we cannot choose or alter
But friends, once made, will never falter!

(c) Poet in the woods 2015

Snarled-Up Brussels!

The days draw in, congestion grows
Tractor and taxi strikes – it shows
Brussels really cannot cope
Free-flowing rush hours? Not a hope!

The traffic jam – a way of life
Those accidents cause daily strife
The Ring is clogged from dawn till ten
At 4pm it starts again!

However, did I hear good news?
New Metro line? Should I enthuse?
The suburban network will expand
Long forgotten stations freshly manned!

But we so love our private car;
To give it up – a step too far?
So few huge car parks out of town
And yes, the STIB could let us down.

Quaint capital with winding streets
Pedestrian zone – no taxi fleets
Postcard pretty – Baroque feel
But modern city? Let's get real!

(c) Poet in the woods 2015

Kerb Crawling

By the leafy woodland where I view
From my terrace window vistas new
I enjoy tranquillity and peace
Happiness on a long lease.

But not today, folks, not today!
The Commune's gardeners come our way
And trim with angry buzzing roar
And petrol-engine, weeds that crawl

Unchecked, luxuriant and wild
Rampant nature – Horta's child!
The road is long and climbs uphill
The workman's hands are never still.

The neighbours all come out to stare
The smell of cut grass in the air
The team of sweepers clean the street
Wow! It has never looked so neat!

(c) Poet in the woods 2015

5

Exodus ...

There are days when inspiration strikes
And you want to put the world to rights
Because much going on is bad
The flight of Syrians - poignant, sad.

They did not ask to leave their home
But now as refugees they roam
Across new borders, cold, afraid
Their future doubtful, no plans made.

Tent cities spring up, water's scarce
Many are wounded – where's a nurse?
Thank goodness many now see sense
And help these poor souls through the fence.

Exodus on such a scale
Of hordes of people, many frail
In peacetime, what is more, is shocking
Conscience on our hearts is knocking …

(c) Poet in the woods 2015

The Boy on the Beach

A sunny beach scene, lapping waves
Turkish shoreline, children's graves
Syrian migrants try to cross
To Europe - many lives are lost.

A photo speaks a thousand words
Drama caught as it occurs
A tiny boy, just three, is drowned*
His life cut short without a sound...

Too young perhaps to understand
A journey in a boat too crammed
But reassured by their warm voice,
He trusted in his parents' choice.

Scooped up lifeless, borne away
He's symptomatic of the way
These tragic migrants stake their lives
To find a kinder, safe sunrise.

***

Unnatural, posed on waters' edge
This photo tries to drive a wedge
In people's minds and incite hate
Emotions rise – and cause debate ...

(c) Poet in the woods 2015

* On September 2nd, 2015
The Kurdish boy's name was Aylan.