heather sweeting Poems
|1.||At The Turn Of The Tide...||9/15/2012|
|4.||Bramblepatch The Cat||9/20/2012|
|9.||Fit For All||6/5/2013|
|10.||The Silver Trees||6/6/2013|
|11.||The Battle Of 'sayno Moor'!||6/12/2013|
|14.||River Of Life||9/1/2013|
|15.||Never The Same...||9/7/2012|
|16.||Go For It!||9/11/2012|
|17.||A Nice Pub Lunch!||9/13/2012|
|19.||Lost But Not Forgotten...||1/25/2014|
|21.||A Grandchild's Kiss||9/13/2012|
Comments about heather sweeting
The crack of a twig, the twitch of a tail,
Something moved on the jungle trail.
Crickets chirped in the warm night air,
And all the time, something else was there.
Moonbeams played on a tawny back,
Well hidden on that jungle track.
A man walked watchfully along the path,
In one hand a rifle in the other his staff.
Eyes looked around unblinking and bright,
And something moved in the shadows that night.
A hovering paw, a lithe silhouette,
To leap..To strike? Not yet, not yet...
The man, sensing movement, froze then turned,
Two amber eyes in the ...
A Nice Pub Lunch!
Never dine at an Inn where the landlord is thin
and the bins in his yard overflowing.
You could share your pies with vermin and flies,
So remember to check before booking
the state of the kitchens, not to mention the staff,
who'll be doing the serving and cooking!
Go in by the rear whilst keeping an ear out
for chattering chefs and waiters,
Talk of 'stewing', 'mashing' or even 're-hashing'