Potverdekke!

«It's great to be a Belgian!»,
As John Makin* proudly said
Their compromises cheering
Red tape and language cred ...

Their roadworks never ending
Their VAT rates quite arcane
Their indulgent chocolate-spending
Their whingeing talk of rain!

Their Catholic tastes and welcome
Their lack of parking spaces
Humour fails them seldom
See their well-fed, pensive faces...

Tax avoidance is a pastime
With football and good beer
But these bons vivants are friendly
So we join them and we share!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019



John Makin (1950-20II) aka «Mister John», was a Belgian-based English singer whose song «Potverdekke!» stayed 26 weeks in the Belgian hit parade in 1998.

* lyrics:
Potverdekke! It's great to be a Belgian!
I'm not English, I'm not French and I'm not Dutch,
I'm not Spanish, Portuguese or German,
I'm a Belgian so thank you very much!…

Thoughts on May Day Eve

May Day Eve, which this year falls
On Friday, so the work week stalls ...
Yet eccentricity still shows:
Some shops stay open, others close!

It's any which-way, once again
But should be fun – if there's no rain
No benefit from this free time
To meet with friends and wine and dine...

For employees It's not hunky-dory
For the self-employed – a tragic story!
But fashion knows what it's about:
«Cast ne'er a clout till May be out»!*

Old wives' tale or tried and true?
We experience weather patterns new
My wisteria blossoms in profusion
So I conclude - it's no illusion!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019



* French version

A Cry in the Wilderness?

Spring's all around us – I'm inspired
In a world gone mad, time-out required
Too stressed to pause, admire the view,
We're always looking for what's new!

A meander round the city streets
Rue Neuve «Mid-season bargains» bleats
But how many T-shirts do we need?
Far nicer to chill out and read!

Roadworks, mushroom-like, appear
Over-filled bins everywhere ...
Traffic chaos – so what's new?
And the weather is still «iffy» too!

'Work, pay taxes, eat and sleep'
Is this the mantra we should keep?
Think rich and poor – so wide apart
To close the gap – where should we start?

Thank goodness for creative thought
Thinking outside-the-box is sought
Hence poets like to meditate
And pile life's questions on your plate!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

Is No Place Safe?

In the context of some deep-held creed
Social media spread the seed
So terror reigns in far-off places
Screaming headlines - saddening faces...

Such crimes committed in the name
Of systems of belief inane,
Cannot be condoned, and yet
So many don't perceive the threat ...

Fanatics feed on powerful rant
Persuasive speakers serve up kant
The masses, thus bewitched, adhere
To these new dogma – so beware!

Christchurch, New Zealand: Friday prayers
Attack* on Muslims – raising fears;
While Sri Lanka, for its beaches known,
Suffers unrest of its own ...

Must massacre become the norm?
Churches and hotels are stormed
More lives are lost on Easter Day**
As Christians congregate to pray...

Unease, despair and apprehension
Lead to international tension
The slightest spark lights powder keg
And Life, that fragile bloom, lies dead ...

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

* New Zealand 15.3.2019 - c 50 dead
** Sri Lanka: 21.4.2019 - c 250 dead ...

Isabella - Riding High!

Dad suggests a fun bike-ride!
Isabella takes it in her stride
With firm support, serene and sweet
She's geared to go, with boxed-in feet!

Both helmeted, full biker kit
For Isabella – this is it!
Two-wheelers are the way to go
It's hilly, so they take it slow...

Why walk, when pedalling is more fun?
She holds on tight – Dad does the ton!
Wind whistling through her pearl-like ears,
This way of travelling holds no fears.

Dad puts his foot down, keeps her steady
Brief pause to pose as camera's ready
A little wobble then we're set!
She sits bemused – what to expect?

With muscle-power not fossil fuel
Going green is now the rule
Start 'em young and get it right;
My mind's eye sees her on a trike!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

A Yorkshire Easter

Elegance in the bloom-filled 'Stray'
Harrogate takes my breath away
Huge flagstones, pump room, trendy shops
This olde worlde place still rocks.

Cherry blossoms, bright spring green
A sort of picture postcard scene
Couples hand-in-hand walk past
«Betty's Tea Room» queues move fast!

Bookshops, genteel clothes, antiques
Fast food outlets in side streets
Montpellier Square for Yorkshire youth
A spa for those long-in-the-tooth.

No faded splendour, this town thrives
'God's Country' accent here survives
The rounded vowels of Priestley's* plays
Are heard in every turn of phrase!

A glorious mini-break in sun
Bustling Leeds and York were fun
Knaresborough, watered by the Nidd
Castle ruins where Royalists hid ...

Ripon - end of long bus ride
Vast cathedral: seen inside
Medieval tombs, fine carved rood screen;
We scratched the surface of a dream!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

* e.g. Leeds-born J.B. Priestley's "When we are married".

Isabella - from a New Angle!

Mum's kitchen has a cosy nook
Where good humour seems to flow
Our cherubs have a cheeky look
And face the camera like a pro!

From Thomas, proud, a sunny beam
As Isabella turns on stool
Tom-the-cat enjoys the cream
While Isabella plays it cool.

I often wonder what they think
Their minds abuzz – in overdrive
She, adorable in pink
Has thoughts aplenty deep inside.

While Thomas speaks and learns to read
She questions all without a sound
Unable still to voice her needs
Observing what goes on around ...

At sixteen months, she climbs new heights
Disciple in Big Brother's wake
The stool gives her commanding rights
An advantage she is keen to take!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

Nôtre-Dame in Flames!

Doors closed, the day's sightseers gone
Somewhere a tiny spark is born
But where? As workmen make repairs
Disorder through the shadows stares...

Flames burst forth and leap up high
Shocking Parisian passers-by
Nôtre-Dame - their crowning glory
Writes a new and tragic story!

400 firemen rush to save
This masterwork from sudden grave
Iconic treasures risk their lives
Thankfully much art survives!

Ile de la Cité wreathed in smoke
Evacuated at a stroke ...
Then lofty spire engulfed in flame
Topples, reflected in the Seine...

President Macron, soon appraised
Cancels all to see the blaze
An emotive moment, hard to speak
A tragic loss in Easter week...

The crackling flames light up the sky
It's hard to get the firetrucks nigh
The heart of Paris slowly weeps
And no one through the long night sleeps ...

(c) Poet in the woods 2019



Fire broke out on 15th April, 2019

Isabella Holds On!

It's a stand-off! Isabella plays
With various surfaces and stays
In charge - as long as she can grip
The sofa's soft fabric a bit...

Her trust and confidence now grows
But how far down are her ten toes!
At this height there's a brand new view:
She takes a little step or two ...

Experimentation is the key:
Project «Walking» seems to be
A work-in-progress, a tough trial
Freedom in the wings - so smile!

Her independence hard to gauge
As life is balanced at this stage
'Twixt taking risks and comfort zone:
But she'll succeed all on her own!

I wait for news; Mamma demurs
«She's not quite there, yet», she declares
From wriggle, crawl to walk and run
Her programme is a busy one!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

The Conversion - Ups and Downs!

Tiles and sacks block cul-de-sac,
Plus boards and tools, as plans are lax
My neighbour's big dog finds it hard
To find his way through dust and shard...

What have the workmen done this week?
The gable grows but lacks its peak
My wall, built high, is now half-down
With crumbled grouting strewn around...

One man chucks bricks up to his mate
It's catch-as-catch-can, which is great
It means roof progress will be made
And put my terrace in more shade!

Though not a one to make a fuss
My seedlings suffer, choked in dust
Of my green trellis still no trace;
Chaos reigns - not to my taste!

Loud rumbling noises, taps and knocks
Cause an avalanche of rocks ...
The skip is soon filled to the top
Roll on the weekend – when they stop!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

Are You Amused?

Ideas for poems quickly grow;
As each day I cannot know
What will come and spark my Muse;
Life's a puzzle with few clues.

Events move fast, I must keep track
If I hesitate then it's old hat!
Should I write sequels to past odes
Or strike out daily down new roads?

Politics – many shades of grey
Better firmly perched on fence to stay
But the seasons' ever-changing views
Are a constant joy beyond the News.

It's challenging; I meditate
What will the Powers-that-Be dictate?
Isn't Poetry «So-Yesterday»?
Yet Readers log on – every day!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

A Tuesday Meditation

Elections in Israeli State ...
Sad memories of Rwanda's fate ...
Coalitions, massacres and fear
As 'burn-out' plagues so many here...

Huge pile-ups on the Brussels Ring
Commuters barely notice Spring
And yet, and this warms up my heart,
Despite Man's folly, Nature's spark

Is everywhere – small buds now thrive
Hedgerows with bird life come alive
Despite brief downpours, there's more sun
Cold Winter's surely on the run!

Though Nature puts on its best show
Man's morale is often low
We miss this palette of bright greens
As bad news always intervenes.

As a poet, I'm at one remove
From many, stuck in their work groove,
I observe the woods through window pane
And rejoice that Spring is here again!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

Upsetting Waves ...

Sunday - and the skies are clear
Still chilly for the time of year;
I scan my messages and learn
Sad news that makes my stomach churn:

When friends are suffering and fraught
Do we reach out as we ought?
A Writers' Group friend, U.S. chum*
Is grieving – he has lost his Mum ...

Then a birthday call to a sweet friend
Across the Alps – has doleful end ...
I'm told her in-law soon will be
Beyond the clouds due to big «C»;

Life's not a ship on even keel
Each unexpected wave is real
A sea of calm morphs into storm
Beyond us an uncertain dawn ...

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

* Nathan J.

The Conversion - my "Mexican" Wall!

As the sun grows stronger every day
My flowerpots - in disarray
Show signs of life; new stems shoot forth
They're slow – my terrace faces North.

Wow! Seventeen new rows of bricks
Are laid; the scaffolding now sits
Dismantled – soon to be removed -
Next up: the wee house will be roofed ...

Huge sacks of gravel and cement
Stacked up outside for they are meant
For floors and walls as yet undone
There's a deep dark pit where sewers run...

The guttering has been dissected
More conduits soon must be connected
As rainy days are sure to come
And drainage problems can be rum!

Through my first floor window flows less light
I feel «boxed in» as space is tight;
Perhaps the wall will slow the breeze ...
Thank goodness I can still see trees!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

The Stones Roll to a Stop ...

Bad news flows swiftly round the Net;
A man whose name we can't forget
(Leastwise, so Baby Boomers claim),
Who doesn't know this famous name?

I speak, as always, from the heart
A cancelled tour, a stage depart
Unpremeditated, too
«No Filter» fans are rocked anew...

Not for his antics on the stage,
Mick Jagger shocked another age;
Who did not like the erotic tones
Of he who revved The Rolling Stones?

But for the news his heart is sick
His pace must needs slow down – a bit ...
At seventy-five, still going strong
Until this «hiccup» came along;

But Nature makes her own sweet rules
Now Jagger needs a surgeon's tools
He's whisked away for heartfelt action
Let's hope our Mick gets «Satisfaction»!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

He underwent a transcatheter aortic valve replacement (TAVR)
but was soon back on stage!

At Watermael Post Office

It is curious how some days events seem quite unreal
I had a little mail to send – it wasn't a big deal
But when I crossed the flagstone square, I could scarce believe my eyes
Our modest postal office had a queue that stretched outside.

Though this was first of April, I am nobody's fool
With office workers busy, and children back at school
Who were all these people who had the same idea
Mid morning on a Monday, surely no one would be there?

How wrong I was; the sun shone down, a great day for a walk
Two women stood in line with prams, the elderly looked fraught
The door kept swinging open, more punters stepped inside
Sudden hassle and swift movement as the postal van arrived!

Huge packages were brought within, the people stood aside
Just two of the three guichets were fully occupied.
At last a new employee came - to fill the empty space
So the queue could now edge forward at a leisurely pace.

Eureka! Now my turn has come, the clerk affords a smile
With such impatient people, her job must be a trial
I thank her for her friendliness which has made my day
And step back into sunshine - my letters on their way!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019