Romany Caravan

Trundling down the road comes
a barrel-shaped Romany Caravan,
drawn by a horse with its gentle clip-clopping,
holding up the traffic
but no-one really minding
as cars slowly pass, occupants smiling.

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Strange Things

What strange things some people do.
Yesterday a lady I do not know
was plucking handfuls of grass
from the roadside verge
and stuffing it into a plastic bag.

Politeness got the better of curiosity —
I did not stop to ask but walked on by
as if it was nothing out of the ordinary
while pondering what explanation
might have emerged.

Dry

I’m hanging washing on the line.
Later forecast – heavy rain.
Here’s hoping I
can get it dry
before I get it in again.

Kite

Oh what a plight,
for the last two days
no wind in sight.
Grandson’s new kite
cannot take flight.

What can I say?
Bring out the kite,
wind’s on its way,
better luck today,
let’s go and play.

Grumble

Watering garden pots again
we all grumble we need rain,
but if and when the rain does come
still we’ll grumble, wanting sun.

Death

Death
in all its gory
detail –

road kill
score:
3 foxes, 1 badger,

all
in the space
of a few
miles.

January Joy 18

Searching for joy,
what can I see?
A bright breasted robin
in the bare cherry tree
flit down to the feeder,
grab just one seed,
then into the hedge
at remarkable speed.

Winter Woollies

By gum, the house is cold,
were we away so long?
We’re wearing winter woollies,
trying to get warm.
The sun is shining here and there,
through blue patches in the sky,
perhaps we’ll soon feel warm again;
at least the day is dry.

Summer

With fleeting footsteps summer flies
away from ever greying skies
and winds that bluster through the trees
sent swaying, gripping tightly leaves
that all too soon will turn to brown
when autumn comes and flutter down
in circling spirals to lie forlorn,
a soggy carpet on the lawn,
while we dream of summer days
glimpsed through autumn’s damp, dark haze.

© Elizabeth Leaper

Green Fingers

I love a tidy garden.
Mine always looks a mess;
I haven’t got green fingers
nor take the time I guess.
Oh, the plants are thriving
but so are all the weeds,
can’t bring myself to pull them up
until they’ve spread their seeds.
Their flowers are so pretty
I leave them all too long
and next year twice as many
will round my garden throng!

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