The Thought Process of an Amateur Birdwatcher
There they were, on the path in front of me,
Cheerfully splashing in a muddy pool:
Two unknown birds, just challenging me to
Identify them.
A Tale of Two Birch Trees
In our garden are two silver birch trees,
Both grew from wind-blown self-sown seeds.
I found the saplings thirty years ago
And transplanted them to where they now grow.
Early Spring in Orchard Avenue
In every other tree
A robin sings
Territorially,
Assertively
Staking his claim,
His right to be
Right here
In this tree.
One Thing
David wrote…
One thing have I asked,
One thing do I seek:
To dwell in God’s presence,
All the days of my life,
To gaze on his beauty,
To listen to his voice.
Only one thing matters.
The Apple Farmer
I met an aged apple farmer
Busy with his work,
His face was gnarled and weather beaten
Like apple-tree bark.
For Beatrice (7th January, 2015)
A time of joy, a time of pain,
A baby girl born,
And passed away,
In just one day.
Observations on a Winter Morning
A crisp, cold, frosty morning with the low winter sun shining strongly out of a clear blue sky, making the ice crystals glisten and sparkle on every leaf and blade of grass. Not a breath of wind this morning – the water as still as the proverbial millpond, reflecting the glare of the sun into my eyes.
Wind over Whitecliff
A strong Sou’Wester,
Storm Gerrit, someone’s called it,
Harrying over the harbour,
Pulsating over the park.
Wareham Winter Wander
The huge earth bank of the Saxon wall
Still marks the edge of town.
It was built by Alfred the Great
To keep the Vikings out
(But it didn’t work, sad to say,
The Danes occupied the town, anyway.)