Bike Ride

There’s a nest in that tree,
a bumble-bee flies past my ear,
a rabbit hurries into the hedge,
a fly hits me on the cheek,
a train goes by, another cyclist
says ‘Hi’ going the other way.
Then a cat in the road glares at me,
slowly turns and walk to safety.
The sky is clear and blue, with wispy clouds.
I can hear the bird-song all around.
It is difficult to bow to a white horse
while riding a bike.

Hazel Boughs

Lambs-tail Hazel Catkins

Lambs-tail catkins dangle
from the hazel boughs.
Snowdrops nod in greeting
among pale primrose flowers.
Gentle breezes whisper
as the treetops sway.
The message they are sending –
Spring is on its way.

Seasons Greetings

A Christmas Acrostic

Carol SIngers


Carol singers
Hurry to huddle
Round the hearth.
Invited in from
Snow covered paths to
Thaw cold fingers, toes and
Munch mincepies,
After they have
Sung a song for Christmas.




With very best wishes for the Christmas season and the New Year to all my readers.

First Geese

First geese of the season,
heard before seen.
Such a noise,
calling to each other,
flying overhead
in ‘V’ formation.

Little Things

Clothes drying in the breeze,
the dappled shade of trees,
the gentle hum of bees.
Little things like these
never fail to please.


Between the trees snowdrops,
white as starlight in the dark of night,
tumbling down the bank
like a mountain rill, rippling
into the stream below.


I hear them first, the geese,
their loud conversation.
I watch them flying overhead
in arrow formation.
Whatever it is they shout about
lost in translation.


See how the summer flowers fade,
see how the skies turn grey,
see how the berries ripen red
and leaves more golden every day.
See how the seasons turn and change
as autumn comes our way.


Today started cool
and overcast
with promise of rain
in the forecast.
Possibly anywhere,
maybe not everywhere,
still some uncertainty.
Now the sun comes
and all hopes fast fade,
along with the shade.
Rain somewhere today,
but not here.


Expecting a delivery
I hear a bang
like the slam
of a van door.
Through the window
nothing, no-one there.

Then I see it;
the splat,
the smear of blood
on the pane.
I find no sign
of injured bird —

but oh
how it must have hurt.

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