The First Day
Sweet maiden’s first day serenades,
Her promise for the year,
A descant laced with hopeful song,
Her landscape, flushed with cheer.
Sweet maiden’s first day serenades,
Her promise for the year,
A descant laced with hopeful song,
Her landscape, flushed with cheer.
It’s not the great beer that draws us all here,
It’s not classy wine that tastes so damn fine,
It’s not flavoured gin, that was once mother’s ruin,
It’s not vintage brandy, the shorts, or the shandy,
It’s not fancy mixers, the whiskey, the spritzers,
It’s not cider, crisps, cocktails, scratchings or mocktails.
An apple hung upon a tree,
It stood out from the rest.
Ruby red, sun ripened skin
I knew I’d picked the best!
“It’s only a song….”
Only a song? Goodness me, no! You’ve got it all wrong!
It’s caged birds, flying free,
Priceless art, poetry.
Bygone films, scented rose,
Pitch-perfect, pure prose.
If my best self could take my hand,
Guide me safely through troubled lands,
The only thing I’d need is me,
Rough seas would part, so I could see,
That life won’t always be like this,
I’d give me a reassuring kiss,
A tender touch upon my shoulder,
To give me strength & make me bolder,
A gentle thought, a caring deed,
Calming words that I would heed,
I’d promise me to treat me kinder,
Sometimes we need a small reminder,
To love ourselves, to know our worth,
And celebrate our earthly birth,
For while we live with what we cope,
We must never, ever give up hope,
Our time here’s gifted for special reasons,
To cross the paths of rhymes & seasons,
So give yourself a warm embrace,
Stand proud amongst the human race.
Today I saw an alien!
It wasn’t very big,
It stopped my big feet in their tracks,
I almost ran & hid!
There’s a hushed, eerie quietness, restful, unknown.
All sheep are silent, the song birds have flown.
This veil of first twilight, creeping, in peace,
The yawning day’s ending; its happy release.
Stillness surrounds the blackness of night,
Transfixed and bewitched, as if frozen with fright.
Not even a leaf or stark twig stirs in pity,
Miles from the busying buzz of the city.
Reliant on senses, the dark calls the tune,
Its symphonic movements cast far away, strewn.
The stream trickles melodies, owls hoot their songs,
Silently flapping, the bat beats along.
Honeysuckle scented notes
Cast aromatic weaves,
I need to linger longer
In a place I’m loathed to leave.
Oh! Silver Moon, that lights the way,
I heard your call, I heard you say,
“Come, join me, for I feel alone,
Once, people came, but now they’ve flown.
Around your planet, countless years,
And no one saw my new frontiers.
Then, just as strange folks came as friends,
They, all too soon, were gone again!