I looked at my neighbour
and she looked at me
then she smiled, bowed her head
and asked if I could see
that we and all the the other posts
were painted quite brightly.
I asked her for the reason
and with a smile of glee,
she said tonight when the park is closed
we will dance round the old dead tree
Hare, knew the result
was a foregone conclusion
no point in rushing,
the triumph of the tortoise
became the stuff of legend.
In Western skies
expelling dark eyed Luna’s,
cold nocturnal grip
The sun rises once more
but now breeds understanding
first dawn of mankind
Best tread warily,
beneath this fragrant carpet,
sleeping fairies lie.
Sly fox, sleek hare and nervous deer,
from without the forest all will appear,
as one they pay homage, this October morn,
to, “The Piper at the Gates of Dawn.”
To escape the icy, dark, raging seas
a lone ship with all her sails lost, flees,
the crew of Her Majesty’s frigate, “Raven,”
in search of a headland, to act as haven.
The villagers hated to see the magpie who nested in the old elm tree. To them it seemed the bird had been sitting up there forever, with it’s mocking call and loud chattering every time any one passed by. It wasn’t so much that they disliked magpies, in fact most admired his contrasting black, blue and white plumage.
To them though this one was different, he had never been seen with a mate, in fact no other magpies had ever been seen or heard near the old tree where he was perpetually on guard. This caused the villagers, both old and young distress, for in accordance with the old, well known saying, “One for sorrow, two for joy, ” it was customary to greet a solitary magpie with a, “Good morning, mister magpie, how’s your wife. ”
To ignore a single magpie was sure to cause evil to the observer. It now seemed that any event that could be ascribed to bad luck was the fault of someone failing to pay the necessary respects to their resident bird. As he got older he had taken on the mantle of, and was often referred to as, “The Harbinger of Doom.”
Fearful of dire repercussions if they did anything to harm the bird, the villagers realised that all they could do was wait until they saw the bird no more, in the hope that this ill-starred resident had finally taken his leave, then hopefully his place would be taken by a pair or perhaps more of his kind.
will be redeemed on demise
pact with the Devil.
A young girl from Norfolk called Jill
with her parents lived in a mill,
she would sneak into their bed
even though her mother was dead
while dad gave thanks for the pill.