While swimming in a moat,
A goat ate my coat.
I was annoyed for awhile
But relieved it wasn’t a crocodile!
A Goat Ate My Coat
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Tag Archives: wildlife
Evening Blackbird
A blackbird, as dark falls, singing in the park. Each note a dagger thrust into my heart.
His voice carried on the darkening air, still he trills without a care.
Oh tis to profound, cease your song lest I drown.
Butterflies
Beautiful butterflies flitting in and out of my life,
Here,for a moment, then gone in a trice.
An interlude of pleasure, thence you hurry away,
Lovely creature will you not stay?
Owl
Outside my darkening window you glide. You call, fall, and something once living dies.
Blackbird
The singing of a blackbird stops me dead in my tracks. Enraptured by his music I stand wallowing in beauty.
The cloak of evening softly creeps over the land. His music continues and still I stand.
“Are you OK?” a voice, as from another world asks.
“Yes” I reply.
The magic broken I go on my way.
He, later to family perhaps,
“I saw a strange man today. He stood, head cocked, listening to I know not what”.
Magpies
As I walked my guide dog, Trigger this morning, in The LawnsI heard the familiar chatter of a magpie, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KXoTUS5I_ks. I am fortunate in living close to The Lawns, historic parkland in Upper Norwood which attracts a wide variety of wildlife. Sometimes in the wee small hours I hear the sharp bark of a fox or the mournful hooting of an owl as he prowls? (can an owl prowl, probably not)! In search of his prey.
Upper Norwood is, as it’s name suggests high above sea level. When going into central London for work I certainly notice the difference in the air quality, Upper Norwood being far less polluted than London itself.
(There is an interesting entry on The Lawns here http://www.londongardensonline.org.uk/gardens-online-record.asp?ID=CRO040).
Barking
Standing in my kitchen, peeling an orange, I was arrested in my progress by a sound cold, short and sharp – The barking of one of the many foxes who make their homes in and around Crystal Palace. “Bark” the sound sent a shiver down my spine. Once again, “bark”, what are you about my friend? Do you hunt for food or call to your brethren? My dog lies seemingly unperturbed in his bed. He is your distant cousin but on this evening acknowledges you not. Sometimes he stands, nose pressed against the window, intent on you, his distant relative in the garden far below, but tonight he communes not with you. Fox, dog, so close and yet so far removed. Creature of domesticity, something wild lurks within. Sometimes you give short, sharp barks like your relation yet, if your paths chanced to cross you would give chase. You are, my dog, mine but not wholly so. You are part of the domestic hearth but yet have a paw in the wilderness. When you dream you are, I think closer to the wild fox calling at my window than you are to puny man.
The barking has ceased but the sound of death lingers on.
London Fox
I lie my mind attempting to focus after deep slumber. A sound cold and sharp reaches me. The bark of a fox hunting or calling to it’s mate. The quilt has fallen. The cold sound of the fox mingles with my coldness. I shiver pulling the cover over me. Bark, bark the noise fills the early morning.
3.30ish. I need to drink. Entering my living room, on the way to the kitchen I pass my domesticated fox. No not a fox but my dog seemingly unaware of his cousin outside. He lies sleeping separated by the thin veil of domesticity from his wild relation.
The sound has ceased. I fall asleep and dream confusedly of dogs and wolves.
K Morris - Poet 