Tag Archives: wildlife

Birds in a Tree

In spring
I heard
Birds sing
With such ecstacy
In a tree,
As I did pass
Along the woodland path.

They sang not For me.
Yet it filled my heart,
And I almost forgot
My art
In their, unconscious poetry.

Wednesday Humour

A beautiful young lady from France
Asked me whether I wished to dance.
As we started to waltz
I said, “are you false?”
She replied, “shush, just enjoy the dance!”.

When a naughty young lady called Samantha
Went to school with her panther
The teacher looked black
And said, “take it straight back,
I have no room for your panther!”.

A Fox In My Garden

A fox
In my garden, and me
In this elaborate box.

We call down a pox
On the hapless fox
For he
Is free
To kill
At will
The domestic rabbit.
While our own habit
Is to preserve the life of all
Is it not? Although
I recall
That twas man who did fall
From Paradise.

Adam and Eve
Over the loss of their pet
And forget
That vice
Is a purely human quality.

Woodland Glade

A beautiful butterfly
Flutters by
And a gentle breeze
Russles the leaves
Of fine old trees.

Where shadows dance
Couples may see,
By some lucky chance,
The otter wild and free
That dreams
In woodland streams.

Standing on the street
With dusty feet,
They gazed
At the museum of yesteryear,
While far and near
Stretched the asphalt drear.

To My Dog, His Nose Pressed Up Against My window

“Tell me, what do you see?
As you gaze at yonder tree
Where squirrels jump from branch to branch
And leaves in the late Autumn air dance?

On seeing the fox, who strolls through the garden as though he owns the place
Do you trace in his wild face,
your fellow canine? And does his sharp bark
That oft times pearces the dark
Find an answering echo within your loyal dog heart?

Watching the world pass
Through my window glass,
Tell me
What do you see
As you gaze beyond yonder tree?”

Autumn Ruminations

The scent of leaves
Temporarily relieves
My introspection.
There can be no excuse
For dejection
When Autumn is here to seduce
Me with her heady scent.
I repent
Of fruitless hours spent
Over keyboards
While the squirrel hoards
Nuts in the nearby park
And the clear, sharp bark
Of a fox
Says “a pox
On your writing.
You ought in the outdoors to be delighting.
Take a walk in yonder wood
For the air
There is good
And Autumn fair
Is warmed by a gentle sun.
Soon winter will come.
Have done
With melancholy thought
For time, once passed can not be caught
And every second is dearly bought”.