Summer Morning ( verse)

Today the curtains open wide to show the bright sunshine outside

And there, just waiting, at the gate – my friendly blackbird, am I late?

No, pigeons have devoured the seed and left, so he has space to feed

I’ll rise and juicy currants find, for now the larger birds have dined

On corn and peanuts, he can have a breakfast that I know he’ll love

And I can watch his handsome form – so sleek, so black, he greets the dawn

With song that’s always my delight. It’s like a thank-you, and the sight

Of yellow beak and beady eye just complements the pale blue sky.

To share the summer with the birds encourages me to find the words-

For simple pleasures can bring cheer. It isn’t miserable all year!



Filling a Root Canal

” Open wide so I can numb, then inject, your upper gum.

A tiny prick and you will feel no more of this two hour ordeal.”

I sign the form with shaky hand, still so afraid – I understand

that my infected tooth is dead, to be replaced with pins instead.

A clamp inserted in my jaw, no time for questions any more.

I lie there with my mouth agape, eyes closed, unable to escape

and then begins that awful whine that makes me fearful every time.

The drill is ringing in my ear, although I know I’ve naught to fear.

There is no pain, only the sound of grinding, digging and I found

a spray of water hit my face as, mentally, I float in space

so calm I am almost asleep, until a sudden high pitched beep

shows that a different drill’s in use, then heat, a flash, I dared not peep.

” Are you OK?” the dentist said and in response I nod my head.

“It’s almost done, but don’t forget there’s more appointments to come yet.

Next month a crown must go on top,” Will dental visits ever stop?

I sit up, glad to get away. There’s nothing left to do but pay.


Communication – verse

Alone, one night, I had a fright, walking along beside the road

I thought I’d nearly trod upon a┬áturd – but it was just a toad.

A turd with legs? This cannot be, I thought as I went on my way

And smiled to think it was unharmed. ” Goodnight, you toad,” I had to say.

This habit strange, I must admit, began at home where, on the sill

A tiny spider’s made a web and I appreciate its will

So did not clean it right away, in case it captured a stray fly,

Instead I talk to it each day ” Good morning, spider, don’t be shy.”

I put out currants for the birds and whistle to tell them they’re there.

Perhaps it seems a trifle odd but I am old and do not care!



Wondering. (verse)

I wonder at the Northern Lights. I wonder at the stormy sea.

And even more than nature’s sights I wonder if you love me.

I wonder at the day and night, and at the birds all flying free

The bees that sting, the sharks that bite, and wonder if you love me.

For as, together, we delight in all the wonders that we see

I’m daring, now, to hope you might stop wondering and love me!



Losing the plot

It seems to me I’m stupid, dim witted, dozy, daft

As age begins to rob me of the essence of my craft.

The gift I have of language, developed over years

Is gradually eroding, one of my greatest fears.

I try in vain to capture, and use, the perfect word

But similes escape me, fly, like a mocking bird.

A river of my best ideas flows gently out to sea

A metaphor for loss that shows what’s happening to me.

No longer with the freedom to choose, invent and write

Vocabulary fading, my mind losing the fight

To cling on to my memory, to produce and create

A work that is commended, but I fear it is too late.bookwormclipart

Requested Verse

I had a challenge from the man in the mobile library when I was bemoaning the fact that rhyming poetry was unfashionable. ” No-one writes rhyming verse any more,” I said and then discovered at least two authors who are doing it successfully. He replied, ” Nobody has written a poem about a mobile library,” How could I resist?

You don’t need a flying carpet or a ship that sails the sea

For every kind of magic’s in the Mobile Library.

Let your imagination feed on tales from yesterday

Or solve a crime or find a love to wash your cares away.

You’d like a book with big, bold print? There’s plenty here to take

And picture books and paperbacks a thirst for knowledge slake.

Or in the Land of Might have Been, when you’ve a book to try

Give your imagination wings and, as a wordbird, fly.bookwormclipart

Fun verse.

I often claim I’m not afraid of anything that Nature made.

I let the little bees buzz by; I gently brush away each fly.

I watch the wasp approach the jam and quickly cover, while I can.

The dustpan’s great for the wood louse – I rather like the tiny mouse!

But pity me, and do not laugh – I’m scared of spiders in the bath!