Stratford
Is it much ado about nothing,
This place where Britain's famous bard was hatched?
Round every corner, thatch and bricks, more thatch
A lamp postby the Avon
Is straddled by a fiddler,
A musical donkey and an owl
Courtesy of Israel
Shakespeare's physician son-in-law
Cured constipation with rhubarb and salt petre
Hence the name ‘thunder box'?
Squeezed the spit from a yellow Tudor frog
Down fiery throats, raw antiseptic cure
Meanwhile, Elizabeth the Queen
Had the great forest of Arden felled
(3,000 oaks for each and every boat
Needed to build the wooden walls of England)
On every June, Will Shakespeare took a bath
It's said fleas kept his mind alert and quick
Newmarket
What should we haveworn?
Ascot falderols? Green riding wellies?
Teetering stiletto chic or county sturdy?
Spectators at the early morning canter,
We lean across the rails
Like birds on a wire
The horses appear, they are flying like the wind
Galloping on the grounds of Warren Hill
Their manes and tails are flowing
Like molten gold in the early morning sun
Their hooves eat up the miles, the chosen ones
Cambridge
Owlstone Road, Vicar's Brook
Foxglove Close, The Mallards
Kettle Yard, Drummer Street
Fallowfield, The Paddocks
Laundress Lane, All Saints' Passage
Pepy's Court, Midsummer Meadows
Maid's Causeway, Wordsworth's Grove
Punting round the shallows
Saxon Road, Eden Backway
Otter Close, Peathill
Bliss Way, Kestrel Rise
Honeyhill Mews, Monkswell
Barrow Close, Miller's Yard
Little Mary's Lane
Willow Place, Scholar's Walk
Saxox, Fenman, Dane
In the Fens
Roadworks are wringing the last
Of the Fen water out of the fields
Speed limit signs are sandbagged
On the scraggy ditch
Cypress trees stand to attention like a wolf's hackles
Two arthritic cottages near the need
For a thatch replacement
They age by a village duck pond
Where ducks upend like teapots
A telegraph pole tilts drunkenly into the wind
Six pensioners in lycra cycle a bridle path
Defy bone shrinkage, helmeted like ants
Ancient Roman Food
Stuffed dates, flamingo tongues
Baked dormouse- oh what fun!
Sauces made from fish guts
O me miserum!
Boiled eggs in peanut brine
Shellfish stuffed in udder
Sea urchin, jellyfish and snails
Ancient Roman fodder
Still Life Objects: pot pourri of memories
Isis, horn headed, smells of bazaars, of hookahs, of burkas,
Thin men whose eyes speak volumes, judging the western women
Zulu warrior, a souvenir from my son
Recalls the tale of an oilman gang raped in prison
Asian bullock cart, my childhood toy, heirloom from wild Cocoa Craib
Astride an elephant's back, Victoria's empire swaying
Buddha, comforting, dusty with incense, an aura of calm and peace
Balquhidder Glen, with purple meditation robes
Unicorns, rubbery, stuffed, shiny miscellaneous, loved to death by two small mischevious girls
i-pads tomorrow's ikons, edging into the picture
Generation Gap
Diverticulitis, diabetes2, arthritis
Metal hips- look out for slips
Cholesterol, cellulitis
Piles and high blood pressure
Heart attacks and varicose veins
Cataracts for good measure
Alzheimer's and dodgy brains
Docs and diagnosis. Cancer-poor prognosis
That's the geriatric chat
Old age lays down the welcome mat
Every conversation, cures and operation
Potty training, nurseries, schools
Holidays with paddling pools
Young and healthy- in their prime
No fear of that old rascal, Time
Liar
When you walked the streets
You were welcomed by
Skull faced men with barrel chested dogs
Blonde women with black roots
Red cheeked shopkeepers,
Pubbers, clubbers,
A real cross section of the inner city
I knew your coming from a long way off
The jaunty step, the hearty hug
I try to pretend you're not dead, simply emigrated
The twisted knife in my heart keeps whispering liar
Summer 2019
Occasional hedges sprout in tufts
Like hair escaping bikini rims
The cows are slumped, half comatose
As if they'd swallowed a crate of pimms
Sheep like spindrift of high tide spray
Froth over creamy fields of clover
For summer, like an ice cream cone
In rural England's brimming over
Up in the boiling broth of clouds
Birds skim the candyfloss of heaven
Majorca's weather's reached Penrith
We've hit the jackpot! Legs eleven!
Development, Westhill
Pockets of trees are emptied
Their roots are axed,
Surplus to the needs of urban sprawl
Birds, beasts are rendered homeless refugees
Against the rhetoric of urban planners
No recourse to petition, no appeal
When greed comes calling
Man annexes the owl's premises
Like poison ivy, suburbia spoils and kills
A burgeoning blight of houses
A dawn chorus of traffic
A chaos of mud and machines
A crane towers on its steel stilts
Poised to pounce, to ravage
Rap of the Crathes Birds:
Blackbird, Bullfinch, Chaffinch, Gull,
Cuckoo, (Mallard) , Fieldfare, Crow
Goldfinch, Greylag Goose Greenfinch,
House Martin, Jay, Magpie Jackdaw
Moorhen, Raven, Owl, Redwing
Robin, Rook, Sand Martin, Siskin,
Song Thrush, Sparrow, Starling, Swallow,
Tits, Tree Creepers, Lapwing, Merlin
Wagtail - Grey, and Whiteand Pied,
Birds that cheep and quack and squawk
Wren, and Skylark,Pheasant, Quail,
Partridge, Buzzard, Kestrel, Hawk
Woodpecker, Wood pigeon,Kite
Oyster Catcher, Heron, Osprey,
Kingfisher, Curlew, in flight
Birds by moonlight, dusk and day
Creatures of Crathes
We are the reptiles, lizard and frog
Newt, slowworm, and toad
Sometimes wet and sometimes damp
Slithery is our road
Rabbit, Weasel, Hare and stoat
Squirrels, grey and red
Hedgehog, Roe Deer, Badger, Fox,
Some rare and some widespread
Field and House Mouse, Otter, Rat,
Shrew, Mole, and fierce Pine Marten
Minnow, Brown Trout, Sea Trout, Eels
The Dee's world famous Salmon
Trees of Crathes
Birch, ash, sycamore, alder, oak,
Beech, rowan, cherry, hazel
Larch, spruce, scots pine, willow, beech
All these, as well as maple
Crathes Farms
The Ley, Drumfrennie, Hattonburn
Newmill, Myrebird, Doualty
Minklets, The Bush, Baldarroch, Coy
Milton, Todholes, Kilduthie
Candieshill, Hirn, Harestone
Candygierlach, Uppermills
Rashenlochy, Wicker Inn
The Farm of Nethermills
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem is very informative and this has a beautiful prose structure. Spectators at the early morning canter lean across the center. An excellent poem is very brilliantly penned...10