We can’t know how
someone else feels
(we can only guess).
My point of view
isn’t precisely
the same as yours.
And in that gap,
in that mysterious little divide,
looms a hollowness.
Burning empty with
innocence
or ignorance,
within that crevice,
a glue called “sorry”
may help us mend.
Image from Pixabay
The bright afternoon is over,
the sun is low in the sky,
the world is holding its breath
and the trees are waving goodbye.
The first night creatures are stirring
and bats come out to play,
as the night spreads over the plain
and claims the leavings of the day.
When the sun goes down by James Aitchison
Desert sunset, Australia. Photo by Ginette Pestana
A patchwork of leaves
blankets the soon-cooling earth.
Seeds sleep until spring.
Bonfire burns brightly,
melting marshmallows like snow.
I dance near the flames.
Red and orange leaves
warm the air of autumn days.
Gaia’s ardent gift.
Image from Pixabay
Lately I’ve become quite the honey connoisseur,
Trying different flavours as I go from store to store.
I’ve learnt the taste and colour depends on the flower.
Stringybark is dark while Blue Gum is amber.
Worker bees forage and collect the nectar;
Caring for the queen – they will fiercely protect her.
Drone bees have no stinger and they are the males,
While females do a waggle dance by ‘talking’ with their tails.
Keep on buzzing, little bees, I’m in awe of your skill.
Lucky honey won’t expire ‘cause my shelf is now full.
It’s time for gooey sweetness on my toast and in my tea.
Then I’ll plant some garden flowers to keep the honey bees happy.
Honey Bee by Linda Davidson
Photo taken by Linda Davidson
Happy World Bee Day !!
There was a young man from Crete,
Who walked on his hands not his feet,
What a fun affair
To have your knees in the air,
And shake toes with the people you meet.
There was a young man from Peru,
Who swallowed a mouthful of glue.
His lips were sealed,
His nose was congealed,
And his face turned a bright shade of blue.
Loony Limericks by James Aitchison
Image from Pexels
A row of Ficus
Line the drive
Evergreen
And air revive.
On a branch
Possums nest
Escaping from
Daylights quest.
Annoyingly
The leaves shed
Continuously
The drive, their bed.
Falling softly
When winds blow
Floating leaves
Put on a show.
A quiet whisper
Through the trees
As branches shuffle
In the breeze.
Lovely Ficus
Large and strong
Manicured
They’re now oblong.
As they look out
Upon the street
The trees observe
The passing feet.
They see the birds
That fly on by
Or those that perch
On branches high.
Lovely Ficus
Line the drive
Evergreen
Where they survive.
Lovely Ficus (Ficus hillii) by Toni Newell
Photo taken by Toni Newell
HAIKU
A true Haiku is written in Japanese.
In English, it is created as a three-line poem. The first line has 5 syllables; second 7 syllables and third line has 5 syllables. No need for rhyme. A Haiku ideally captures a moment or essence of something in nature and indicates when that moment occurred (such as a season or time of day).
Your Haiku could be on any topic: a few words delivered thoughtfully.
Though pirates get by
with a patch on one eye
their lives out at sea can be grim.
No wonder they’re mean,
all the pirates I’ve seen
have clearly been missing a limb.
I now understand
all those hooks for a hand,
the clumping around on a peg.
To fit out their ships
for those plundering trips
must cost them an arm and a leg!
Pirate plight by Jenny Erlanger
Image from Pixabay
candy coloured twists and twirls
little wicks charred and curled
melted wax holding fast
to memories of birthdays past
candles in a box by Graham Seal
Image from Pixabay
