I never know who reads my stuff
I try to guess,
but it is tough
Not many leave
behind a trace
Nor do I meet
them face-to-face…
But my clever
blog counts up your views!
I am so lucky, you enthuse;
Around the
world, in all time zones
Someone,
somewhere, reads my poems!
This year has
harped on jabs and masks;
More freedoms
seem too much to ask
But let us hope
for brighter things
To give my
inspiration wings!
(c) Poet in the woods 2021
Dank silence in my cobbled street
For once no tread
of dog and feet
I peer outside;
no one to greet
And pass the
time;
Birds perch
with care on lofty branches
Keeping watch with
poignant glances
Their lively presence
here enhances
Poet’s rhyme!
I muse and
wonder how they feed
Leaf litter
covers every seed
And insect life
is rare indeed
But they are
bold;
From vantage
point they plot their course
Then, without tremor
or remorse,
Their arabesques
a tour de force,
New prey lies
cold!
Nature teaches
many things
As birds and
ideas both have wings
And pleasure lies
in little things
The poet sees;
On days when
modern life seems fraught
And more peace
of mind is sought
For one brief
moment I resort
To birds and
trees!
(c) Poet in the woods 2021
Between two ’feasts’* we take a pause
Perhaps relax,
go out of doors
See misty clouds
fleck winter sky
And, just maybe,
wonder why
Gun crime,
domestic rows, despair
Have dogged so
many this last year
Not to mention
freedoms lost:
2021* is tinged
with frost …
We’ve worked
from home, missed seeing friends
Have failed,
alas, to tie up ends …
And all while
timid sun hangs low
Our mood
reflected in its glow…
Time to reflect
- the choice is vast -
On this fake
jollity just past:
Along the way,
we’ve lost the plot
Child-in-a-manger
quite forgot …
(c) Poet in the woods 2021
* Between Christmas and New Year
** so, in 2022 what has changed?
This Boxing Day dawns quiet and cold
Sales! So much
still unsold
Conspicuous consumption
rolled
Before our eyes;
Christmas stalls
in disarray
Culture dies a
death today*
Our social
plans now swept away
As the year
dies …
But a pale moon
in the frosty sky
Illuminates us on the sly
A sure sign that
hope lingers by
And bides its
time;
Should CORONA be
seen as a test,
Because our
world is in a mess?
We need
reminding we’re just guests …
Hence this
short rhyme!
(c) Poet in the woods 2021
* In Belgium
Dare we dance a step or two?
The deepest
darkness is now through
Pale Christmas
star turns grey to blue
Hope spreads its wings;
My wisteria,
now devoid of leaves,
Has spiky
fingers stark that freeze
December, and
the old year grieves
And no bird
sings …
It’s been a
twelvemonth untoward
Where COVID sufferers
have soared
And many, stuck
at home, were bored
As news is
bleak;
More vaccinations
for the young
Nurses’ praises
all unsung
And culture sees its plans undone*
As from next
week!
Can ma-in-law still come and stay?
With nightclubs closed, we cannot stray
So, how to
chase the blues away?
What else remains?
But Christmas
trees sell like hot cakes,
Romantics long for
bright snowflakes
So, enthusiasm
is what makes
Us still take
pains!
(c) Poet in the woods 2021
* In Belgium ...
As winter wraps us in its throes
My thoughts go
out to all of those
Who, for one
reason or another,
Have lost a
friend, a dad, a lover…
As we age, we
say goodbye
To those on
whom we could rely
Who worked with
us, or shared our lives,
Now just their
memory survives…
Alzheimer’s, or
the dreaded ‘C’,
Reminders of
mortality
But often –
sadly - unexpected
Perhaps a
friendship, long neglected …
A random glance
at Internet …
Pulls us up
short, we feel regret
We’re paralyzed, laid low with shock;
But no, we can’t
turn back the clock …
Our old address
book shows its age
With
crossings-out on every page;
Nemesis new
darts has loosed:
Unopened cards
come home to roost …
(c) Poet in the woods 2021
A view across Ten Reuken* lake
Sees bold swans
tiny ripples make
While branches,
clothed in frost, now quake
In icy blast;
The cloak of
darkness starts to fray
As winter sun burns through the grey;
Here comes my 8 Tram straightaway
I step on fast!
Wrapped up and masked, some passers-by,
Intent on daily
tasks, go by
While birds observe
them perched up high:
A Brueghel
scene …
After sleet,
there’s talk of snow
But COVID keeps
our spirits low;
Will more
restrictions our lives slow?
Our hopes stay
lean …
The Dutch impose
a lock-down new
So, Antwerp
sees its sales accrue
While
nightclubs don’t know what to do
At this bleak
time;
Those who
travel have now left
While some, of
families quite bereft,
Consider
options they have left
And drink
mulled wine!
(c) Poet in the woods 2021
* in Watermael-Boitsfort
From a little twinkle in Mum’s eye,
With Dad and
Thomas standing by
Our little
princess now grows tall
And can tell us:
“I am Four!”
Post sixteen
seasons, warm and cool,
Isabella,
poised for school,
Leaves kindergarten
for new spheres
Where all-day playtime
disappears!
Adept at chat,
she speaks her mind;
Mum, to all her
faults not blind,
Finds her
patience wearing thin
When Isabella
tilts her chin…
One’s sense-of-self
at four is bold;
It’s tough to
do what one is told
But she must learn
life has constraints
And not all
teachers act like saints!
Bright colours
seem to float her boat
All shades of
pink will get her vote
She loves to
dance on centre stage
Her future? Still
too hard to gauge!
(c) Poet in the woods 2021
We celebrate on, now-fixed, days
Circumstances
that amaze;
Today is Christmas
sweater day:
Bright jingle
bells and Santa’s sleigh!
See snowmen,
reindeer, festive fare
Presents,
gift-wrapped with great care,
Much red and
white and holly green
Perhaps a
star-lit winter scene …
In dubious
taste, or work of art?
On cold
evenings many start
To knit wool
jumpers with a will
Treasured, made with love and skill.
A mass-produced, kitsch shop-design
For a bad-taste
party is sublime;
Yet, when this champagne-joke wears thin
Will it end up
in the bin?
(c) Poet in the woods 2021
It’s hard to
know just what to write
As horrors pile up
on our plate:
Farmers in
Wallonia strike
Tornadoes* bring
death in their wake…
Gas and water
bills will rise
While
supermarkets make a killing
Who still makes
their own mince pies?
Yes, Brussels
Christmas lights are thrilling!
Floods make conduits
overflow
As winter walks
are marred by rains
The River Senne’s
not “nice to know”
And yet, I hear,
there are more trains!
We dress up in
our winter gear
And make our
shopping forays brief
We look back
on this muddled year
Hoping soon to
turn new leaf!
So many
freedoms are forsworn
Event and theatre
plans are wrecked
Everywhere
masks must be worn;
We cross our fingers
and reflect…
(c) Poet in the woods 2021
* Many deaths recorded in Kentucky, USA on December 11th, 2021 ...
We approach the tail end of the year
In trepidation
and low gear,
As travel is
not hassle-free;
For some – home
stays the place to be…
2021 I now
reflect
Has been a big
pain-in-the-neck;
We’ve all been
thwarted at some point:
Many noses out
of joint!
Three main
culprits hove in view:
COVID won’t
relent, it’s true
BREXIT creates
postal hell,
As for our
planet, it’s not well …
A bumper crop
of deep concerns;
Too many calls
on what one earns!
Strikes break
out for many reasons;
Drought affects
some growing seasons…
It’s the
uncertainties that jar:
Should we take
our bike or car,
Still eat meat,
or live on veg?
No wonder
politicians hedge!
(c) Poet in the woods 2021
BREXIT causes untold woes
As postmen,
ever on their toes
Withhold all
parcels ex-UK
Imposing whopping
tolls to pay!
BPost mailings
now seek cash
But scams are
rife, so should we dash
To pay these hefty
costs on line
As parcels don’t
arrive on time?
Depots must be
stacked up high
With UK Christmas
gifts put by
The 5-day deadline
soon surpassed
Unpaid (ignored?),
the die is cast!
Why pay to get
a Christmas card?
Life’s modest
pleasures now are marred;
Brit lion’s share
by email comes
It’s easy,
quick and saves us funds!
(c) Poet in the woods 2021
Young lass in pink, poised, packaged small
Exudes
assurance and stands tall
This is a lady
in-the-know
Her femininity
on show!
With clear-cut
dress sense, she’s aware
The best way to
do her hair
A blonde
cascade now frames her face
Adding to her
innate grace.
See that
sparkle in her eye?
Attention-seeking,
she will try
To put herself
on centre stage
And with all
around, engage!
This month – December
- she’ll be four;
Admittedly, a
modest score
But Isabella
has no fears
Her savoir-faire
exceeds her years!
(c) Poet in the woods 2021
The snow melts in December sun
Leaving slush
and grime to run
In tiny waves
down hilly street;
Cascading
leaves lie at my feet.
Needs must - so
I affront the day
Which starts in
chilly shades of grey
See how displays,
well-lit, attract
With hosts of gifts
so neatly wrapped!
To send cards
now I hesitate;
With email we’re
kept up to date
What joy to
voice our Christmas cheer
Skype means
free calls with near and dear!
“New Normal” means
life lived-through-screens
Too bad for
those with slender means;
Without a laptop,
we are lost
The life we
once knew turned to frost.
We yearn for
how things used to be:
Meanwhile, we decorate
our tree,
Admire the city’s
Christmas lights
And drink glühwein
on winter nights!
(c) Poet in the woods (2021)
The intimated word is - snow
The sign that
temperatures sink low
As we welcome cold
December:
Short days and
long nights, remember!
Traffic chaos,
taxi strikes
Hassles with those
“Uber” bikes
Rebelling
prison staff again
Overcrowding
their refrain.
I marvel that
we keep our cool
Are our
children safe in school?
Office
Christmas parties stall
Some kissing won’t
take place – at all!
Black Friday
limps on, unappeased
France and UK: fish
row freeze!
Gas and heating
bills to rise
Why do I find
this no surprise?
For you “out
there” who read my rhymes
How do you cope
these trying times?
This tunnel
still seems long and dark
2021 has lost
its spark!
(c) Poet in the woods 2021
