Blog Archives

New Year’s Resolution?

I’m sure some of you have made resolutions. Many of you might have decided that it’s pointless. But for anyone wondering what you could do to improve your life, just decide to get out of the city more often – once a week if you can. I guarantee you’ll feel great!

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Walk on the poppy side of the line, of course!

 

Sleepless in Fields

 

Zipping round town, ticking off lists, picking up kids,

Checking inboxes, replying to inquiries, meetings and

Meeting deadlines leads to lying down dead Friday night

Rather than revelling in the darkness inside or out.

 

Yet, rising in the wee hours, Saturday, in the woods

Ere dawn, a weekend in fields breathing walking, stalking,

Hiking, biking, till Sunday last light leaves us feeling more

Energetic Monday morning than the longest lie in let.

 

If you want me…

It’s been a while. It’s been busy.

But I’ve been doing a bit of writing.

I have a few poems to share, over the next few weeks, as the summer proper hits us.

Meanwhile, if you want me, I’ll be on the porch….

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The House Stands Built, the Garden Lies Laid

 

If we needed lumber, I’d gladly go into the wood,

Cut logs and split them all afternoon.

Were there a shelf to put up, a cupboard fixed,

A picture to hang, I’ve no problem lending a hand.

Should the lawn need mowing, or the hedge trimming,

The garden path cemented, a fence erected,

Bicycle mended, stone wall constructed, a pond dug

Or a border weeded, you can count on me;

I’m always happy to go to work.

 

But the house is built, the garden laid,

There’s left little to do but watch the grass growing

So if you want me, I’ll be on the porch.

 

(This is a short video of what’s in front of said porch….)

January poems

 

These were written mainly over the last couple of weeks and seemed appropriate for

the weather and the midpoint of the month…

 

Lived or not

 

If we don’t stop to watch the sunset,

How do we know we’ve really lived that day?

 

sunset

 

Listening to the Birds and Bees

 

Perhaps people no longer

Stop to listen to the birdsong

Because they’ve taken all the birds away

And only sparrows in the traffic stay.

 

 

 

They Doth Protest Too Much

 

Pensioners protest;

They did their bit and are owed.

What have they left us?

 

 

 

Tea Leaves

 

Tea, thinking each leaf

Left China for Ireland, then

Here, I use bags twice.

 

 

On the Death of Bowie

 

For some, no matter how old they go,

They’re gone too young, too soon.

And all we have left to hold is a song

That we can’t help but sing out of tune.