john (called jack) wren

It's a place where silence
has the loudest voice
from those who lie there
though not by choice
...

Sweetest of Isles I look at thee
nestled in yonder turbulent sea
shining like diamonds every day
guarding the entrance of the bay
...

Ribbon and tinsel, holly and berry
it's the festive season, time to make merry
there's cards and presents, snow on the ground
carols in church make an angelic sound.
...

Wee sleek thrower of the soil
under the ground you're made to toil
on heaps of earth we see your stamp
on meadow and wood where're you camp
...

Creeping merrily twix affable leaf
in search of her morning aperitif
this vision with the brightest of eye
smiles as she teases the Sun in the sky.
...

Spring has gone with silent tongue
and left her with no doting young
eyes filled with tears are shed
across her face they gently tread
...

Will you come with me sweet lass
to walk the meadows fair
and catch the laughter of Spring
as it echo's through the air.
...

Take care my friend as you fly along
furnishing flowers with a kiss and a song
searching for nourishment for wee frame
oblivious to the wind and rain
...

A leaf reflects as it descends
from the topmost twig of a tree
of happy moments it has spent
when it was fancy free.
...

Priceless, ageless, sacred yew
with arthritic limbs askew
stretching roots in soil at rest
hallowed ground their just headrest.
...

Where I could wander footloose and free
I now draw strength from my memory
some places and events stick in my mind
of people and happenings of every kind.
...

At first glance, you look like a clown
With a dumpy hat and a funny frown
And a spiky collar that's fun and quirky,
That makes your smile, rather smirky.
...

She stands in splendour beside the door
Exquisitely dressed by Christian Dior
In a strawberry fringe, flecked with white,
That looks almost good enough to bite.
...

She stands tall, head above all,
with only the wind to have a brawl
when that irritating flirt becomes a pain
she spreads her arms to mitigate the strain.
...

I'm here, I'm here, was her bold cry
to me and all those passing by
come, come further down the aisle
I'm sure it will be worth your while.
...

What can one say about one who has all
as she waits for her carriage to go to the ball
dressed to the nines, in the purist of white
that touches the heart, and tends to excite
...

Some in the border are bold and brass
others more subtle like this fair lass
some don't like the wind in their hair
while others just like a stormy affair.
...

King of the land are the evergreen
whose red berries are the finest seen
brightening up the borders fair with
splendid heads of well groomed hair.
...

How could one lay the blame
on such a contorted frame
who, from whatever angle
looks completely in a tangle
...

Everyone's in love with this show girl
even the wind loves to give her a twirl
when all about her have nearly expired
withdrawn to bed, worn out and tired.
...