Sitting, through the window gazing,
Festive fare before us spread.
Your joie de vivre is so amazing,
Share with us our daily bread.
Christmas lights show their reflection.
You, the cold, wild winds must bear.
Forcing on me introspection,
For nought would I your wild life share.
Have pity on the Pheasant,
Sitting in the snow.
Life isn’t very pleasant,
When you’ve no place to go.
She’s stuck, with no umbrella,
On cold and bitter moors.
No nice hot coffee seller,
In the Great Outdoors.
Our restaurant has been relocated,
And outdoor seating arranged.
If this is what you’ve awaited,
Please visit and see what we’ve changed.
While we can’t manage kerbside delivery,
We hope this is what you expect.
If the weather turns out to be shivery,
You can always do peck and collect.
Whence comes the road?
It winds through all our travelling.
From our beginning,
Our life unravelling.
Whence goes the road?
Up and on, curving and bending.
From where we stand,
To our life’s ending.
At the going down of the sun, we will remember.
Those who died, both friend and foe.
Who fan the flames of freedoms ember,
With dying valour’s glow.
Those who lie in foreign fields to never more return.
Those who wait, hope overdue.
Those whose fate we’ll never learn.
We do remember you.
Hey diddle diddle, the moon is blue.
Riddle-me riddle-me-reeve.
What on earth is a cow to do?
All on a Hallow’s Eve.
The little dog giggled as bones danced by.
Rattle-me clatter-me-cleve.
A witch rode her broom across the sky.
All on a Hallow’s Eve.
The pumpkin face sang a raucous song.
Caterwaul flatter-wail-fleeve.
Ghosts gathered around to sing along.
All on a Hallow’s Eve.
Today I paused beneath the trees,
To muse upon philosophies.
Walking the dog gives you the time,
To ponder on the reason’s rhyme
Lost deep within my reverie,
I thought that someone spoke to me.
Midst grassy bank two lips I saw,
But had they moved? I wasn’t sure.
‘I’ve seen you pass this way of late
And watched you walk and cogitate.
If you have time I’d like to find
Just what it is that’s on your mind.’
We spoke at length, Grass Bank and I
Of mostly what, and sometimes why?
At last, I bid to him, ‘Good day!’
Then turned and went upon my way.
Little bee a-buzzing mid the Ivy blooms.
Gather sweetness now as Winter looms.
Other blossom’s nectar all is spent.
I watch and wonder just where Summer went.
I hardly noticed Summer tiptoe past.
Long sunny days all slipped away so fast.
Now Autumn’s here and Ivy bears its flower.
Silent Winter watches from his icy tower.
Flutter on the windowpane,
You seek the sun, but all in vain.
Did you need a place to hide,
Is that why you came inside?
Window fixed and just ajar.
Locked, it will not open far.
Careful hands ‘round you, I cup.
Gently, gently lift you up.
As I left the house I saw,
In the sun near my front door.
Dancing wings brushed by my cheek,
Then off, to nectar’s blossom seek.
What are you doing here on the ground?
You should be up in your leafy bower.
Were you told to get out and go somewhere else,
For taking too long in the shower?
Don’t talk to me about autumn and such,
It’s too soon to discuss that yet.
Get back in your tree and don’t come down,
’til summer’s been back to pay off its debt.
When thistledown clouds the air,
Autumn won’t have long to wait.
Dandelions have lost their hair,
Left with a stem and a bald pate.
When at last September’s here,
You’ll know this is back-end o’ year.
Days get short and nights close in,
The sun no longer climbs so high.
Flocks of rooks make such a din.
Bracken leaves turn gold and die.
Then you’ll know September’s here,
And now this is back-end o’ year.
Hello Hills. Not seen you ’round for a gloomy while.
Had rain on rain with dark grey skies in a tumbled pile.
And clouds so low, I’m sure they dragged the bottom of their skirt.
Right across our soggy field in all the muck and dirt.
Through sodden air, we couldn’t see the far side of the beck.
Just raindrops driving, slanting down when I looked out to check.
Yet, there you are, back in your place, now the rain is done
Looking fresh and newly washed, stretched lazily in the sun.
