A Book!

Book book, book book! exclaimed the hen.

Really!  I replied.

Book book, book book, she clucked again.

Book book, book book, she sighed.

A book, a book – I understand.

A book, a book – but what?

Book book, book book, book book, book book

Book book, book book, Book bok…

A book, a book – I’ll have a look.

I’ll see what I can find.

A book, a book – a classic  book,

This book, you will not mind.

So we sat under the claret ash with a book; the hen and me.

And I read till it was almost dark.

Then we went inside for tea.

 

 

A leisurely bike ride along the bush track,

Nothing too strenuous – 2ks then back.

Nothing competitive; dawdling along,

Enjoying the scenery and humming a song.

 

A leisurely bike ride – me on my own,

No need to hurry, 2ks then home.

4ks in total, pedalling with ease,

One cloud of pollen watch out I may sneeze.

 

The bell birds say “tink” as I ride through their patch.

Then past an echidna having a scratch.

Butterflies easily keep up the pace.

Dragonflies hover; their wings look like lace.

 

The ride is delightful – it’s time to turn back,

But just wait a minute – what’s that on the track?

A kangaroo lazily hopping ahead.

Is it a grey or is it a red? I’ll just go and see…

 

Faster and faster I quadruple my cadence

Just scraping through a gap in a farm fence.

The kangaroo is bounding in front at great speed,

But I am the one who will soon take the lead.

 

I crank up the gears and decrease my resistance.

By crouching down low, in less time more distance.

With speed and endurance I’ve almost succeeded,

In passing a grey kangaroo unpreceded.

 

The tail wind is strong; I am zooming along,

But all of a sudden something goes wrong.

The kangaroo disappears off the bush track,

Into the scrub and doesn’t hop back.

 

I skid to a halt – my heart is arrhythmic.

I cannot believe it – oh what a mean trick!

And as the dust settles, I stand all alone,

Except for a sign that says – “20ks home.”

  

 

 

 

Oh goose you fly so very high,

I wish that I could too.

Up up, up up, into the sky,

There’s nothing I can do.

 

I stand here wishing I’d grow wings,

I never hope for other things.

I dream at night that I’ve gained height,

And the earth is almost out of sight.

 

But here I am, stuck on the ground,

Never to be seen or found,

Up there with you oh goose,

For I am just a humble moose.

 

Oh moose as I look down below,

I notice you especially.

You graze the grass, you sip the lake,

You wander so majestically.

 

Your antlers have such symmetry,

They make a stunning crown.

Your fur hide, is a royal robe,

Magnificent though brown.

 

And since you simply cannot fly;

You’re never going to fledge,

I’ve bought a gift – an airline ticket,

With a dozen golden eggs.

 

So dream your dreams,

You never know just what you will achieve.

Many things are possible,

So long as you believe.

 

 

Louise McCarthy