Spring in the air
A woman bare
Campfire smoke
Fingers’ strings stroke
A glass of good spirit
Hope infinite
Poetry – the gist
Of the wildest
Poetic society for all active poetry lovers
Spring in the air
A woman bare
Campfire smoke
Fingers’ strings stroke
A glass of good spirit
Hope infinite
Poetry – the gist
Of the wildest
The simple yet so special moments
Just holding a book, lost in a great story
Enjoying my steaming cup of filtered java
A still moment in a rushed life, an anchor
Something real I can give full attention to
McFly’s Patch
I know a guy by the name of Ole McFly
Who lives in a trailer, in a place called Lye.
Down by the river, cross over the stile
That’s where you will find Ole McFly.
Snaring rabbits, that’s his ply
To make rabbit pies, does Ole McFly.
An old black kettle dangles across his fire
Where he sits upon a black tractor tyre.
Flare; his ageing Skewbald Mare
Grazing quietly unaware, not a care.
Tethered to a rickety rocking chair
Gentle old Mare, is faithful Flare.
Out of the dank of the morning fog
A weathered old dog, by the name of Bob.
Settles down, on a smelly old rug
Sniffing at a fat, slimy slug.
Rupert the rooster, sat on a bough
Crowing raucously, crikey what a row.
Ole McFly appears, rubbing sleep from his eyes
Shut that noise, he did but cry.
It’s time for me to take my leave
Per chance he finds me, if I do sneeze.
He will go about this day, making pie
Ole McFly, my eccentric old guy.
Breda Ware
Little heads pushing up through the ground
On banks and in woodlands all around
Such a special sight to see
Bringing fond memories back for me
With delicate white petals
Fine feathered green leaves
Growing majestically in clumps
Others alone; singularly
Wild ones are by far the best
Standing out simply dressed
Nestled amongst broken branches
Covered in moss and ivy
Little brave souls gripping tightly to banks of streams
This sweet little flower
Is a delight and pleasure to see
What makes me happy is abundantly clear
The appearance of Snowdrops year after year
Walking through forests Precious and me
Admiring birds, bees, flowers and trees
Skimming pebbles into the sea
Simple pleasures mean so much to me
Breda Ware
Dear poets,
our March topic is to write a poem about what makes you happy (come alive) or what you do to relax. Looking forward to reading your wonderful poems! 🙂
Marie, Jarek and Adam
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