Isabella - on Table Mountain!

Her toys all scattered on the floor
Isabella sets out to explore
Brand new, somewhat lofty, heights
Are the Himalyas in her sights?

She's clambered onto table top
Wee mountaineer, she now takes stock
Reach for the sky? The way to go!
She surveys the carpet far below ...

No safety harness at this height
For our intrepid little mite
Who clings on tight and won't let go
Perhaps adrenaline starts to flow?

Feisty Isabella tries
To push her limits; for her size
She's expanding her world view
Each day a challenge, something new!

Mum as always at the ready,
Keeps the camera firm and steady
She admires her daughter who is bold
But keeps watch as events unfold...

Isabella's happy Mum is near
At this age, small kids know no fear
Sweet innocence – long may it last
But childhood sadly is soon past ...

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

Head in the Clouds

Last day of May - my mind astray
Hiatus time – friends are away
Enjoying a short, well-earned break
That Ascension plus «the bridge» now make.

The Belgians love these long weekends
Though supermarkets buck the trends
By staying open on «feast days»;
So long live 'Carrefour' and 'Delhaize'!*

The warmer weather is a boon
As cloudless skies can't come too soon
Though Brussels has a cautious face
So we take our brollies 'just in case'.

The wind gets up; those fir trees sway...
Anorak - I need you today!
But between rain clouds warm sun shines through:
So optimism flows anew!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

* Large Belgian supermarkets

Gremlins at Work!

Weird gremlins have been on my trail
My computer slows to pace of snail
My Facebook messages are blocked
Life as I knew it now is stopped!

But what to do? Which App to use?
Pressing wildly is bad news
Icons flash – should I engage?
Perhaps my firewall is ablaze?

We rely to such a great extent
On speed – our messages are sent
Into the ether on a click
Yet gremlins make our systems sick!

There's a «go-slow» bug somewhere inside
Silent, deadly, it can hide
Under a myriad programme keys
What have I done to cause this freeze?

Snail mail is hopeless – it's too slow
But maybe it's the way to go
At least the postman does his stuff...
Being «out of touch» is rough!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

The Conversion - Cover-Up!

More neighbours, curious, stop by
To watch this homestead getting high!
Like weeds, the building grows in heat
Roof rafters now seen from the street.

Piled sacks of gravel bide their time;
The concrete mixer starts to whine
A buzzing saw completes the band
A concerto I don't understand ...

A wooden gable, Gothic style,
Is now in place, but not a tile
Has yet been carefully laid aloft
Still open-to-four-winds this croft.

The skip is back! It's nearly filled
The Polish team of workers drilled
To cart all débris down the slope
And keep things tidy ... so we hope!

Black tarpaulin flops on walls
As progress at the weekend stalls
The trucks are gone, the road is clear
But silence won't last long, I fear!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

Feelings on Tap!

Our oceans choke with plastic trash
In behaviour terms it's rash
To clog our Planet with such waste
One word describes it - a disgrace!

Until we move out to the Moon
(Not planned I think to happen soon)
This World's the only one we've got
So this disrespect must stop.

In Belgium bottled water's seen
As chic and trendy - but not «green»;
Today this mindset is old hat
What's wrong with water-from-the-tap?

Have you seen the map which shows each site
Where water-from-the-tap's alright?
Our Belgian restaurants lag behind
It's time to change if we've a mind.

So much now on our future rides!
A concerted effort on all sides
Would give our Planet some respite ...
So let's do something that is right!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

Isabella of Troy?

Our pert princess, attired in pink
Has a pensive look, which makes me think
Her train of thought has been disturbed
She's quizzical, a mite perturbed ...

There are toys upon the polished floor
Which she has chosen to ignore
Isabella faces camera lens
Sad or happy? That depends...

Mirrors of her soul perhaps?
Her thoughts lie buried, under wraps
Inscrutable just like the sphinx
She's plotting her next move, wee minx!

We've all been there, but we forget
How logic in our brains is set
We observe and learn before we speak
What progress has she made this week?

Our blue-eyed blondie gives a stare
Wise before her time, it's clear
Though no sound issues from her lips
Her gaze would launch a thousand ships!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

Only Six Days to Go!

It's election time: surprises!
Politics comes in many guises
Take vast hoardings which compete
For our attention in each street.

Glued or stapled, large or small
Hopeful mugshots peer from wall
Feelings run high – voting matters;
Some ripped up posters lie in tatters!

Democracy! (At least in name)
We'll queue on Sunday, play the game
All citizens have got free choice
But will THEY listen to our voice?

We have to vote – good Belgian law;
How tantalising to explore
Those golden promises up-front ...
But it's a nightmare, to be blunt!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

A First Wedding Anniversary

May 19th comes round again
The 20 kms run – in rain
Roads with barriers put in place
«Gay Pride» beams with rainbow face!

I observe the date and then recall
Last year's wedding – Meghan's call
Royal coverage worldwide:
Prince Harry and his Windsor bride.

Since then their union Archie blesses
Gone are the pageant and long dresses
As this new family learns the ropes
Papparazzi-free, one hopes.

Out of the limelight they enjoy
The magic of their little boy
The headlines focus on new prey
So they can have a peaceful day!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

A Pre-Election Anecdote!

Early evening, waiting for the bus
There were five or six of us
Wooden hoardings on the verge
Election candidates converge...

From left to right the posters ran
Huge toothy smiles from every man
And women too, let's not forget
Twenty-nine parties to select!

Then a couple came by, scroll in hand
And placed it on extreme right hand
«The people's voice needs must be heard!»
But politics is a dirty word.

I engaged in pre-election chat
And saw their poster stretched out flat
With its multi-culti line of faces
Keen to be put through their paces ...

My bus hove quietly into view ...
But concentrating, as you do
On this pre-election spiel
I heard too late the driver's wheel ...

«No matter, we'll give you a ride!»
Gratefully, I stepped inside
Their car; they dropped me in the square;
Who says no politicians care?

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

On Calling it a Day!

No more «Pillow Talk» for Doris Day*
At 97 she's passed away
An icon: the-cute-girl-next-door
Whom sadly we shall see no more ...

That's the trouble when we age
More famous people turn the page
And disappear from stage and screen;
We reflect on what their lives have been...

Not all enjoyed this singer's health
Illness takes the young with stealth
Think Elvis, Janis and James Dean
And great survivors – like the Queen!

Though this year ain't half over yet
Two family members I regret ...
Both were ripe in years but still
Their absence is a bitter pill.

And what of friends in different spheres
Many I have known for years
Who suddenly have slipped from view?
Their passing brings me heartache too.

That life is fleeting, we all know
What a pity we can't halt its flow
But alas, the Fates have scissors poised
To cut our life-thread without noise ...

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

* Born 1922 - died at 97 on 13th May, 2019

Phone Call from Australia!

Long-distance phone call – we're in touch!
My family – far away – means much
This brings us close for a short time
Warm feelings flow and intertwine ...

They've a special value in my heart
In life's mundaneness, they're the spark
That makes our lives more rounded, whole
Filling with balm each lonely soul.

We share some news; the family grows
Not every moment painted rose
As 'flu has hit (brought from the crèche?)
A bad cough now means Dad needs rest ...

Isabella screams but still can't walk
Mum's back at work, her free time's short
But the joy of children who now speak
And call out 'Dad' and 'Mum', is sweet.

Their new house, smaller, fits the bill
Proximity to schools - a thrill!
I put the 'phone down and reflect ...
How a chat means more than Internet!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

The Conversion - Going Green?

It's been quite quiet for a while
As rain has damped the builders' style
But now this project springs surprises
As a pale green framework rises ...

From the cobbled street below
So I barely see the trees that grow
To lofty heights before my eyes;
Thoughts of claustrophobia rise!

But why complain? I saw the plans
Rights to a home is Everyman's
This nascent bijou may have taste
But boy - it's cramped in terms of space!

Unusual, it is out of time
As a greenhouse it would be just fine
With barely room to swing a cat
It looks more like a dollshouse – fact!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

A Sussex Conundrum

7lbs 3oz - but no name*
Are these Royals playing a new game?
The pundits jostle, wait in line
As this Windsor Wunder takes his time...

Proud beaming Prince speaks of his son,
A week overdue - say some
But still no photos have been seen
Of this eighth great-grandchild of the Queen!

The tension mounts, Meghan stays Mum
A transatlantic bond is fun
In terms of name – an open field
We hope all soon will be revealed!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019



* Archie Harrison Mountbatten-Windsor, born May 6th, 2019 in Windsor,
but only ANNOUNCED on May 9th!

Turn the Heating Up - it's May!

May! Brrrh, the wind is icy
There's a big storm on its way
Umbrella-less is dicey
There are vicious gusts today.

We still need our double-duvet
And the heating turned up high
I stare out of the window
As threatening clouds go by.

But my windowboxes glisten
With wee droplets on their leaves
And the birds rejoice – just listen!
Rising sap gives life to trees...

I dream of coral beaches
And palm-fringed silver sand
Being cooled by warm sea breezes
As I lie out getting tanned ...

But the truth is - Belgium's chilly
Spring outfits? Far too thin
Going coatless is plain silly
So guess what – I stay in!

(c) Poet in the woods 2019

R.I.P. Auntie Marion (1928-2019)

A world divides my home from hers
But the room is silent, no one stirs ...
Marion, uncle's Tassie bride,
Left us on last Tuesday's tide...

She met my uncle gowned and masked
When he, a doctor, his eyes cast
Across an operating room
And spied this nurse amid the gloom!

Smooth and suave, a whirlwind start
His «bedside manner» stole her heart!
A honeymoon their life begun:
Flight to an island in the sun.

After so many years alone
They soon made Sydney their new home
A busy practice, surgeon's skills
Not just dispensing headache pills!

Much travelled, he took her abroad
To England, where he'd had to board
Then Kenya where he'd lived when young:
Coffee plantation family-run ...

A move to Bowral, New South Wales
A slight change of role entails ...
He runs a Health Farm, she makes friends
And hours upon the golf course spends ...

All that was many years ago;
In 2008 Mike's star sank low...
Quietly frail, but mind still clear
She missed her Hobart family near.

I met her when in Bowral last*
We spoke of history and the past
Now a phone call tells us that she's gone
At peace; but memories linger on ...

(c) Poet in the woods 2019


* 2015

(22.5.1928 - 30.4.2019)