An Album of Yesterdays by Celia Berrell

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An Album of Yesterdays

I caught a piece of yesterday

to share with you today.

It’s clinging to a memory

of how we laugh and play.

 

I know that piece of yesterday

will never go astray.

It’s squashed inside a heavy book.

That’s where it’s going to stay.

 

Tomorrow, when I’m old and grey

I’ll still remember yesterday

and how we used to play and laugh.

Because … I have our photograph!

Celia Berrell

Celia said: Personal pictures and photos have an almost magical connection with our memories and emotions.  And some become more precious as the Yesterdays slip by!  Do you treasure your analogue or digital album of Yesterdays?

Meander by James Aitchison

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MEANDER

A sleepwalker named Alexander

Left his bed so he could meander.

Eyes closed and snoring,

Arms out before him,

He ended up on the verandah.

 

But fate had in store a cruel twist

For this poor lonely somnambulist.

The next thing he knew

There was doggy-doo,

And his feet landed right in its midst!

 

So in future, my friend Alexander,

Take heed of a humble bystander:

Please stay in your bed,

Sheets over your head,

And don’t try to sleep’ly meander.

James Aitchison

Butcher Bob by Allan Cropper

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BUTCHER BOB

Butcher Bob from Iron Knob was known throughout the land

for cooking food that tasted good, with produce fresh at hand

Now, Bob he strove to get his stove to turn out something new

He’d not prepare the common fare the common townsfolk knew

 

From out the back was heard a quack, a gobble and some clucking

a chop or three, then glory be, a mess of feather plucking

It seemed absurd, he stuffed each bird into its larger cousin

and finally, he sang with glee as he shoved it in the oven.

 

With carving knife, he and his wife had settled down to tuck in

to Sunday treat, this three-way meat, he invented roast turducken

‘Next week, my dear, my next idea…the roast I will be making…

roast beef, pig too, and kangaroo…my kanga-beefy-bacon.’

© Allan Cropper

To Bee or Not? by Celia Berrell

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To Bee or not?

Is it a bee without a buzz?

It could be a bee with all that fuzz.

But then its wings stick-out too far

and all six legs have got no hair.

 

You want to know the reason why?

Because it is a bee-sized fly!

 

They seem to wear their bee-costumes

and pollinate the same bee-blooms.

Their females are a bee’s worst pest

and lay their eggs in real-bee nests.

 

To be a bee-fly small or large

it helps to be bee-camouflaged.

Celia Berrell

Celia said: This poem isn’t about bees.  Honest!

http://bie.ala.org.au/species/urn:lsid:biodiversity.org.au:afd.taxon:5c4d1b74-df10-4cda-9bfc-220490890500

Bombyliidae (Bee Flies)
Bee flies are large, fat, and hairy, often with a long, rigid proboscis. They are excellent mimics of bees, and may have black and yellow stripes along the abdomen. The adults are avid seekers of nectar from various flowers, although a few species feed on pollen. They are important pollinators, and can reach the nectaries of many wildflowers that are inaccessible to other flies. Their larvae are brood parasites on various species of bees and wasps.

 

 

Inside Out by Allan Cropper

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INSIDE OUT

I found a box

I saw ‘inside’

though what’s inside

I could not see.

Without a doubt

it’s inside out –

outside ‘inside’

just stares at me.

Perhaps ‘inside’

should be inside,

and ‘outside’ shown

externally

But no,  ‘inside’

was outside wrote –

What’s ‘writ’ inside

perplexes me.

© Allan Cropper

The Snooze by Monty Edwards

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The Snooze

 

When Dad’s at the seashore,

This bit he likes best:

After all the swimming,

Take a well-earned rest.

Once lunch is completed,

This is what he’ll choose:

Lying on his towel,

He will have a snooze.

 

Soaking up the sunshine,

Lying on the beach,

Seeking for a suntan,

Drink within his reach,j

How long he will lie there

None of us can guess.

Asked if he’s still snoozing

He just mumbles:”Yes”.

 

We return to swimming,

Wait for him to come,

When it doesn’t happen,

We send back our Mum.

Suddenly Mum wakes him:

“Dave, you’re getting hot!

You look like a lobster,

Lifted from the pot!”

 

Monty Edwards

 

Monty says: “I considered calling the poem “Redback!”, but in order not to confuse, chose “The Snooze”. Although the poem ends as above, one or both the following verses may be added for didactic purposes.”

 

Dad forgot to sunscreen:

Didn’t slip, slop, slap;

Left his head uncovered:

Didn’t wear his cap.

Now his back is blistered,

Face is sore and red,

He will struggle sleeping

Even in his bed.

 

We all learnt a lesson

On the beach that day,

Sunshine is a blessing

When you want to play,

But the sun can hurt you,

If you don’t take care

Best to have protection

With you everywhere.