PASSING BY

Way up high

In the sky

Clouds pass by

I wonder why

On a bright day

Some might say

I see the milky way

Indeed, they may

Way up then

Near to heaven

I shall know when

Clouds pass again 

WIND

 

Wind is a wonderful thing

Invisibly it makes the leaves dance

And trees gyrate as if shaken

By an invisible hand

Water is pushed before it

Rain and snow are driven by it

It ripples through cornfields

Whispers in the grass

It whistles through canyons

Whines like a tortured spirit

Or scream like a banshee

It is a fickle force

It can be silent like a mouse

Or roar like a lion

Its gentleness can caress your cheek

Its awesome power

Can toss you like a rag doll

Or snap you like a twig

Its power is to be respected

It’s uncompromising and indiscriminate

A force to be reckoned with

Whether from the frozen north

Or a bitter easterly

A stormy westerly

Or a vengeful tempest from the south

PERFECT PARADISE

 

The crystal waters

Wash gently onto

Virgin white sand

Untrod by man

Unspoiled by technology

And no vapour trails

Mark the azure sky

 

The trees untended

Lay where they fell

The coconuts un-harvested

But for the wind

Lay untouched also

 

They beach stretched

As far as the eye could see

Far into the distance

Un-marked and un-scarred

No buildings

No phone masts

No pylons

No wind farms

Or streetlights

The only sounds to be heard

Were the waves breaking,

The gentle breeze in the palms

And assorted birdcalls

No gunfire

No car alarms

No train whistles

No sonic booms

Or traffic

Just a perfect silence

 

No flotsam of plastics and tins

Littered the beach

Just endless white sand’s

And perfect blue skies

The rustles of palm fronds

And warm scented breezes

So where is this paradise?

It’s in the long distant past

SYMPHONIC NATURE

 

Nature fills the world with sound

An infinite orchestra free to air

The wind can caress the trees

Rustling the leaves gently

Or make them beat like a tambourine

It can whistle through canyons

And talk in the high grass

Then add the percussion of distant thunder

Water tumbling down stream

Waves crashing on a rocky shore

And rain falling on a leafy canopy

Then a chorus made up from every creature

The bird world, myriad in variety

From hummingbird to nightingale

To rooks and crows

And then the insects from

Rhythmic crickets to buzzing bees

And animal kind contribute

Howling hounds, roaring big cats

Trumpeting elephants and squeaking mice

And when the elements really get going

They can bring the house down

NIGHT OWL

 

The graceful owl

Hunts at twilight

And listens to hear

A victim in the night

Then swoops down

In silent flight

Not to prevent

Its prey taking fright

But fear of losing

What is out of sight

PANDERING

 

The Giant Panda

To some extent

Is the architect

Of its predicament

Its choice of habitat

And fussy diet

Contributes greatly

To its demise, I regret

KING GEORGE’S PARAKEETS

 

It was unbearably hot

Unbearably humid

Even breathing was exhausting

Overcome with fatigue

I parked my jeep at the roadside

In a shaded spot

I recline my seat

And pulled my hat over my eyes

And tried to grab forty

My shirt was soaked with sweat

And stuck to me and the seat

It was no good I couldn’t sleep

It was the constant noise

But not from the traffic

Rumbling by

It was the birds

Squabbling parakeets

Hundreds of them

Chattering and squawking

I gave up trying to nap

And got back underway

You come to expect this

Next to an Australian highway

But not parked in a lay-by

Next to a reservoir in Staines