Thoughts on Another Guy!

November looms - we’re right on track

That cold nip in the air is back!

There’s talk of winter snows quite soon

Crisp evenings brightened by the moon?

 

November 5^th - Guy Fawkes for some

With Catholic plotter lives undone

But politics has moved on since;

Across the Pond, they feel the pinch …

 

‘Puerto Rico’ and ‘trash cans’ confuse

While Swing States Saga fills the news.

Tough game afoot; new voters sign:

But who will cross the winning line?

 

Too close to call, the tension rises

Like with Guy Fawkes, big surprises

America stands on the brink;

This election makes us think!

(C) Poet in the woods 2024

A Cautionary Tale

That life is invoices and bills

Is a harsh fact without thrills

But recently with some delay

Saint Luc sent its bills to pay.

 

This hospital in leafy glade

With never-ending aisles, soon made

Several x-rays of poor wrist

Broken, as a step I’d missed.

 

Encased in plaster cast, forlorn

I struggled to get dressed each morn

But a kindly neighbour lent a hand

(A pun of course you’ll understand!).

 

With stitches out and sturdy brace

I soon the big bad world could face;

My guided tours took off again

Though STIB travel was a strain!

 

So, I reflect - a simple spill

Reduced my social life to nil

And I must henceforth take great care

Whenever I must climb a stair!

(c) Poet in the woods 2024

 

Life Happens - Coffee Helps!

With renovations now complete;

Smart advertising slogan neat

At Aquatic Centre’s* friendly bar

Post relaxation at the spa!

 

The bar staff, keen now to entice

Punters in for something nice

Have placed a caption new, appealing

If it’s chilly that you’re feeling …

 

With wet feet dried and shiny hair

And perhaps some time to spare

You’ll spot this greeting on display.

Temptation put right in your way!

 

“Life happens, Coffee helps” we read

How hard to resist; indeed

We step inside; how could we not?

Hot coffee always hits the spot!

(c) Poet in the woods 2024

* The South Australia Aquatic and Leisure Centre - Oaklands Park, Adelaide

On Sparking Joy

In war-torn world, what still sparks joy?

Why, even daily tasks annoy;

I have to wonder where I am

When no one chats on train or tram …

 

Invisible though in plain view?

Unobserved when in a queue?

Not noticed in a shopping street?

Suddenly, I’m obsolete!

 

Apart from friends, who really care,

New contacts now are very rare

Making links?  OK through screens

But in the real world – just pipe dreams!

 

Scared of  laptop or Smart phone

Many souls feel quite alone

Without ‘WhatsApp’, it’s hard to cope

Who gets a postcard, writes a note?

 

But sparking joy is where life’s at

Without people, days are flat;

This on-line lifestyle is for mugs

What we miss, and need, are hugs!

(c) Poet in the woods 2024

 Title inspired by Marie Kondo's book on Decluttering!

Meditations on 25th October

It’s tough to write when there’s no news;

There is of course: should I enthuse?

Samoa seems a world away

The King and Commonwealth distrait …

 

October this year blessed with sun

And soft rain so the mushrooms come

Their fruiting and intriguing spore

Popping up on woodland floor.

 

Smart drones bring horror on our screens

An endless source of sleepless dreams;

More traffic pile-ups on the Ring …

Décor for Halloween now in!

 

Those witches need to weave their spell

Don’t get me started on Noel!

Garish promotions in-your-face …

As festivals each fight for space!

(c) Poet in the woods 2025

Samoa

Where is our Inner Child?

Thoughts and feelings flood my mind:

Are we to “inner child” quite blind?

Remember how we danced with joy

When we played with brand-new toy?

 

Or kicked up autumn leaves in street

And watched them fall around our feet?

Or how an ice cream hit the spot

On summer days when it was hot?

 

Little pleasures, it is true:

A snowball fight which made hands blue

But then we shared hot drinks back home;

In those days we were not alone…

 

Technology now rules our lives;

Human contact scarce survives.

Our inner child, repressed, locked out

Tries to give a muffled shout…

 

With tiny screens I’m not impressed,

As buying more means living less;

My inner child roams free, unchecked

Recalling childhood – with regret…

(c) Poet in the woods 2024

A for Adventure!

As we age, time speeds up fast;

Now skilled in almost every task

That we, perforce, must carry out

We know, we think, what life’s about!

 

We’ve done that, been there, T-shirt bought

Lived life to the full, been fraught;

But that was then and this now

What untried furrow can I plough?

 

Our grey cells – deadened by routine

Make life dull (know what I mean?)

Where’s the excitement? Vistas new?

Let’s push a locked door and walk through!

 

What keeps us going as we age

Is flipping over virgin page;

It’s certain we shall get our kicks

With foreign travel in the mix!

 

Or, take up hobbies, long neglected

And with old friends be connected;

Excitement is the golden key

What lies in crystal ball for me? 

(c) Poet in the woods 2024

Arm Candy!

My thoughts today both come and go

With just one hand that works, life's slow.

Most things I manage at a pinch;

Opening jars are now a cinch.

 

Weight-bearing actions? Still taboo

One-handed hair wash? I need two.

But at least when it stays fine

I can stroll in warm sunshine.

 

In the rush-hour – a real treat

On bus or tram, I get a seat!

Moreover, neighbours stop and chat

Or pick up my wind-blown hat ...

 

Despite the rain I’m brolly-free

I need a hand to hold on – see!

Though my awkwardness can still annoy

Kindly strangers can spark  joy!

(c) Poet in the woods 2024

Mid-October Reverie

A sharp nip in the air I feel ...

Is this Indian Summer real?

Leaves, multi-coloured, spin and fall

Bold swooping birds their comrades call.

 

Untenanted, the swallows’ nests

As they head south like all the rest …

Road sweepers, wrapped up warm, survey

Their mammoth task –  it’s clean-up day!

I love this golden time of year:

Pert mushrooms burgeon everywhere

Weird, mystic, toxic and benign;

For artists - such a precious time …

 

Crisp, Autumn chill, with tugging gusts

As Summer’s green turns into rust;

Deep puddles shimmer in moon glow

With Nature’s pace reduced to slow…

(c) Poet in the Woods 2024

On Existence

Ever get the feeling that time flies?

That we are all just butterflies,

Each with his moment in the sun

To hover, flit, spread wings, have fun.

 

That life is far too short we read,

Although we learn ‘more haste, less speed’

We do not register time passing

All too busy - multi-tasking!

 

We blink, and youthful days go by

To carefree mode we say goodbye;

Excitement as we earn our crust,

Responsibilities – a must.

 

Commitments often come too soon

Some may spin their own cocoon;

We pass on knowledge, hone our craft

While juggling hefty overdraft.

 

Each soul – a splendid butterfly

That briefly charms each passer-by …

We make our mark - but it is brief

In the Book of Life – one leaf …

(c) Poet in the woods 2024

Voting for the Commune!

The hoardings were not taken down

Because we have another round

Of posters – in assorted colours

Amalgamated groups – and others!

 

This time, against October hues

We queue again to give our views

In terms of Province and Commune

In the same venue as June!

 

The local school* just down my street

Is open now for vote discreet

We need to show our I.D. card;

A quick check – it isn’t hard …

 

We place our plastic card in slot

Make our language choice, then stop

As lengthy lists appear on screen

With many names I’ve never seen …

 

No matter - I must now decide;

Perhaps a party I’ve not tried?

I press a button – and ‘tis done;

Tonight, we’ll all be told who’s won!

(c) Poet in the woods 2024

* Ecole de la Sapinière, Watermael-Boitsfort

The Magic Gene!

A commemoration wall with plaque:

St. John’s quaint brick-built church stands back

From winding road in leafy glade

Not far from sun-filled Adelaide.

 

It’s here we laid dear Dad to rest

His ashes strewn where plaques attest

The many souls who’ve passed away;

Where Isabella stands today…

 

Though six, born far too late to know

Her Granddad, who’d have loved to show

In long bush walks, his knowledge vast

A nature lover to the last …

 

But born far back - 1918,

With generation span extreme,

That vital link could not be made …

Though memory reels are often played …

 

Her Auntie has one fervent wish

Concerning Granddad – it is this:

Dad was a poet, as am I;

Will Isabella one day try …

 

To express her thoughts in rhyme?

She can write, so it is time

To see if down our family tree

This talent she will share with me!

(c) Poet in the woods 2024

St. John's Anglican Church - in the Adelaide Hills

 

An October Tapestry

October - tenth month - glows in sun

Misty mornings – summer’s done …

A chilly start to each new day

Where trees sport every shade but grey!

 

Nature’s cloak of many colours

(Remember Jacob and his brothers?)

Beats any catwalk fashion show

In terms of subtle shades and glow.

 

I do not mean to denigrate

Modern stylists who are great

But wonder if they’ve honed their craft

From Nature’s palette, which is vast …

 

The play of sun on burnished leaves

Provides a sheen on Autumn’s sleeves

And moonlight dances on the lake

A ballgown only God can make …

 

The rich brocade of golden grasses,

Kingfisher blue which briefly passes;

A living tapestry goes by

Captured by this poet’s eye!

(c) poet in the woods 2024