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.
...

A spiders web hangs exposed
by tear drops of dawn dew
like silky lace they glisten
and enrich the Autumn hue
...

The nettle stands without a care
and smiles at fools who often dare
to try and cast her rudely aside
provoking wrath they cannot hide
...

Where are you sweet little vole
in some secluded hideaway
safe from the thrusting spade
that left your nest in disarray
...

Gone is Winter, Spring and Summer
and the fallen leaves of Autumn time
noiselessness silence fills the space where
Blackbirds sang their harmonious chime
...

The gentle humble rye doth bow
its tasty face before the cow
whose ever shifting nodding head
scythes it from its cosy bed.
...

The lively tinkling tireless Fleet
moves on past the wearied bleat
from sheep grazing fading blades
before the falling darkling shades
...

Sitting patiently on a stool
in a pinafore made at school
pincushion held in one hand
needle in other awaiting command
...

Tired and weary lie the stones of the field
thrown and scattered by the Ploughman's shield
unearthed from their bed of soil and clay
ready for taking by young boys at play
...

Mrs Jenny Wren is a proud little Wren
dusting down cobwebs in her lovely new den
washing dirty leaves around her nest
cleaning every day, there's not a moments rest
...

You have stolen my heart
and my thoughts have no place to hide
your beauty fills this empty cup
that never leaves my side
...

She stood by the crackling fire
a blush lay on her cheek
it was nestled in perfection
and clouded in mystique
...

I sent a kiss wrapped in a flower
by pixies in the still of night
picked from a secret bower
its golden petals held it tight
...

The duster dances around the room
looking for dust to consume
dipping its hand on table and chair
in a cleaner than clean love affair
...

There's nothing to beat
Biscuits and tea,
In a beautiful garden
Don't you agree?
...

Fill my dream with bluebells
And I'll be happy and gay,
Then on my face you'll see a smile
When I awake in May.
...