It’s no good pretending,
We all grow old some day
Our lives are forward tending
In time we all go grey!
But many friends leave us too soon
By the Grim Reaper scythed
They vanish from our afternoon…
Just memories survive.
So, we owe it to ourselves to be
As pro-active as we can
Appreciation is the key:
Old Age – a precious clan!
We think of those who’ve gone before;
They spark our memory cells
Recalling them makes feelings raw
But kindness always tells …
(c) Poet in the woods 2025
Mid-March but frost still dogs our steps
Though timid sunshine longer gets
I gaze into the misty sky
Scratched by bare branches but still dry.
Meanwhile on supermarket shelves
Chocolate eggs are sure-fire sells
Stacked high and swathed in cellophane
Easter beckons – on tight rein!
It’s tough to leave my cosy hearth
Clad in warm boots on woodland path
Each day more buds swell on the bough
Spring totters on the brink, and how!
Decision time – should gloves be worn?
I need a scarf to keep me warm
We’re on the cusp of season new
Spring cleaning beckons – I set to!
(c) Poet in the woods 2025
Damn! Wasn’t Spring well on its way?
Today’s chill takes my breath away!
Nonetheless, a happy thought:
Crocuses now grace my walk!
Brussels – on occluded front
Means we poor souls bear the brunt
Of weather patterns untoward
But see the greening of the sward!
Mother Nature, resolute
For politics cares not a hoot
But spreads her largesse on us all;
No trade tariffs make her stall!
Buds peep out boldly despite mist
Birds twitter and enjoy their tryst
Each day more sunshine melts our blues
So, in a word, it’s all good news!
(c) Poet in the woods 2025
Protection and free trade ignite
Polemics worldwide; we sit tight
As worried Macron holds the reins
All this, our nervousness explains.
A new riddle by this Bard
(Who finds that politics are hard;)
The stakes are high – we’re on the fence
Must we now finance our defence?
War is such an ugly word
But given now what has occurred
There is a joker in the pack
So sadly, there’s no turning back…
“If you want peace, prepare for war”!
Old Julius Caesar knew the score;
Each generation finds it tough
Once more, our ball rolls in the rough…
Will the power of words persuade?
We’re crisis-ridden and afraid;
Uncle Sam and Russian Bear
Flex their muscles – so beware!
(c) Poet in the woods 2025
News flash! The ending of a dream;
How sad for she who sang “Jolene”:
Death of her soul mate called Carl Dean
At eighty-two…
Though she has garnered worldwide fame
Her “Nine to Five” won’t be the same…
Now Dolly Parton’s long, long reign
Is tinged with blue.
This backwoods gal found love and care
From discreet husband, always there
Though never would he limelight share;
She stole the show!
As her career takes up first place
She lives life at a cracking pace
Not adding to the human race;
Hard choice, I know.
We think of her with piled-up hair
Hour-glass figure, in the glare
Of the spotlight, standing there
So self-assured;
But now the task that lies ahead
Is wrapped around with broken thread
As he with whom she was long wed
Is with the Lord…
(c) Poet in the woods 2025
When you’re jet-lagged, sleep won’t come …
Weird thoughts through your brain may run
The stress of travelling far away
May make you replay your tired day.
It’s cold but out of bed you creep
Banishing all thoughts of sleep
A cup of tea may hit the spot;
A list of jobs-to-do will not …
Things seem different at night
You tread with care, turn on the light
And tiptoe down the spiral stair,
Observe the silver moon’s bright glare!
No one is stirring – it’s past three
You sip with joy your cup of tea…
This moment stolen from life’s care
Is to be savoured – it is rare!
(c) Poet in the woods 2025
Dear Anonymous, yes, I mean YOU
Who leave kind comments I flip through.
Clearly, I have hit the mark!
Why must you keep your ID dark?
You use my name: so, we have met
Or chatted on the Internet;
I’d like to show appreciation
For your friendly visitation.
I find this shyness quite surprising
As I shun all advertising,
I’m flattered that my thoughts amuse;
It’s not hard your name to use!
Time-rich, my Muse is often fired
You make my soul glow - I’m inspired!
So, may I make this humble plea:
What prompts YOU to contact me?
(c) Poet in the woods 2025
