When the pen takes control.

O’er moorland hills and plains we see

if we look up to Eastern skies

in shades of yellow, red and green

as we greet the new sunrise

gossamer nets bedecked with dew

drying in the warming rays

rough grasses, heather tussocks too

all shimmer in the morning haze.

Break the captive’s chains

just to see Salome dance

an oath spawns regret

I couldn’t believe the length of the grass

for it was high enough to reach my waist

the sign was a warning I could not pass

and turning in anger my steps retraced

and though I’m not known to be a moaner

was determined to tell the new landowner

that through this so-called private land

an unmarked ancient way still ran

so anyone walking up to the moor

this sign should continue to ignore.

The meaning of life

guaranteed to raise a smile

a blast from the past

I find language used in levity

is more effective when maintaining brevity

Ensuring our scent was not carried on the breeze

we found a vantage point among the trees

our precautions were soon put to the test

with a lovely sight we were soon blessed

such an idyllic scene there was no doubt

till without warning a single shot rang out.

Nature’s melody

will always greet the new day

the circle of life

It’s Saturday morning once again

a day Bob liked because when

he opened his Outlook email box

there was often one from Sammi Cox

knowing these prompts were always fun

he couldn’t wait to start on the latest one

so he went and sat at his writing desk

for the word today was, “Picturesque.”

With many a slip

twixt cup and lip, there’s a guide

just follow your nose