Wednesday, October 5

A Poem for Thursday


This is the cat
with the exta toes.
With bites on her ears
and a bite on her nose.
Who suddenly comes
and suddenly goes.
And nobody knows where she's from.

This is the cat
who winds round your feet,
And sits on your lap
'til the crossword's complete.
Who lies in the grass
to escape from the heat.
Then swishes her tail....and she's gone!

Hunter and Hunted

Once again we cycled down to the river.
The weather is on the turn now, but the Ferry area was just as calming.
The gulls were congregated on the bank opposite waiting for the incoming tide.

Why had they risen as one with such noise?

Then we spotted a lone bird hovering over the reeds.

More joined it, until there were four or five of them circling and hovering, still and menacing.

Suddenly up from the reeds came a caccophany of noise as a flock of crows rose high in the sky.

I managed to snap them as they rose.
Only later when I viewed on the Lumix site did I notice in amongst the crows a very different shape......
.......buzzards I'm told!
Nature is so many different things. We love the sense of peace that it can bring us...
.... but abhor the "red in tooth and claw". Yet one cannot be without the other.

Alfred Lord Tennyson wrote as part of the poem In Memorium A.H.H.   these lines......

Are God and Nature then at strife,
That Nature lends such evil dreams?
So careful of the type she seems,
So careless of the single life;

That I, considering everywhere
Her secret meaning in her deeds,
And finding that of fifty seeds
She often brings but one to bear,

I falter where I firmly trod,
And falling with my weight of cares
Upon the great world's altar-stairs
That slope thro' darkness up to God,

I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope,
And gather dust and chaff, and call
To what I feel is Lord of all,
And faintly trust the larger hope.

Tuesday, October 4

Blossom Dearie - Someone To Watch Over Me

I love this subtle...easy listening!

Sunday, October 2

Mag 85 The Flying Elephant


I’d so rather not be here
My feet are getting wet.
And the smoke from distant chimneys
Is mingling with my sweat.
I’m far from where I want to be
From homely, jungley climes.
My trunk is getting knotted
And my wings are tired of flying.
This day has thrown a googly
It’s not what I expect.
I’m big enough to crush you all
So show me some respect.
At home my ears will quite suffice
For any jobs I do.
So tell me why I need the wings
And what the wings will prove?
So…….this is an experiment
And I’m the chosen beast.
Well someone might have warned me
Of the consequence, at least.
I’m not equipped for floating
In the aviation world.
I’m more at ease with trampling
Where the sleepy snakes are curled.
Forgive me if I mention this
But India is home.
And if I have the choice
Again, I never more will roam.
I’ll always be content to stay
Where I have always been.
I’ll ditch the wings and live again
In that familiar scene.

“I’m back Nellie!”