Mirror Images

 History tells us what is past

Happenings that long shadows cast

This world seen through a mirror dark

Where religion played the lion’s part.

 

The God of War was never still

Lands captured by harsh force of will

The zest for conquest deemed of right

Revered perhaps … now battle site.

 

I mull this over; it is strange

Does human nature never change?

No knights-in-armour, techniques new;

But -  modern warfare deaths accrue …

 

When future generations read

In history’s pages of our greed

Still shipwrecked on ideals in vain

Will their lives turn out the same?

(c) Poet in the woods 2024

Pressure Points

How we fill our time depends:

Office? Household chores? With friends?

Our in-tray fills, emails pervade:

Urgent bills scream to be paid…

 

Is this the life we bargained for?

Supermarket trips – a bore

Those vet’s and doctor’s rendezvous …

There always seems so much to do!

 

My diary has few empty spaces

This filly is put through her paces

Spurred on - deadlines ever looming;

How to carve out some “cocooning”?

 

Up early, breakfast and the News

To keep in touch, I can’t refuse;

Post coffee, I glare at my screen

More challenges … know what I mean?

(c) Poet in the woods 2024

 

A Date Remembered ...

You turn the page; a date jumps out

Desk diary jolts your mind, you pause

You look again – there is no doubt

Vows exchanged - both his and yours …

 

What happened? It was long ago

Those fragrant freesias you recall

That day in April had a glow;

You really thought you had it all.

 

Alas, it was not meant to be

A clash of cultures proved too much

You decided therefore to break free

As new horizons promised much…

 

The dream dissolved and life moved on

Time saw the parting of the ways

But at that moment the sun shone

And even now - the memory stays …

(c) Poet in the woods 2024

A bunch of beautiful freesias!

On Slam Poetry

Terms cutting-edge on screen I see

Life-long learning is the key!

Some idioms have a shelf-life brief

While others grow roots underneath.

 

Today’s young poets favour ‘slam’

A creative, stand-up gig which can

Evoke a mood through street-wise word

Or juxtapose ideas absurd.

 

Their adaptation takes less time

As such formats may not rhyme;

Unorthodox, their message rocks

Their audience joins up the dots.

 

Performance poetry strikes home

 Its impact, powerful, well known

Through open mike, it thrives on stage

Slam poetry has come of age!

(c) Poet in the woods 2024

Brussels 2024 poet laureate is Lisette Ma Neza

Visiting the Titanic Exhibition

Tour and Taxis esplanade: no clue

Shed Three is hidden from our view

Then modest sign of fabled liner

The pride and joy of its designer*…

 

I speak in riddles? Not at all

The Titanic holds us all in thrall

Its precious artefacts on show

Hauled up by divers from below!

 

Man’s hubris here reached dizzy heights

This ship, with New York in its sights,

Set sail before the first World War

In luxury not seen before.

 

It was Belfast’s pride and joy;

“Iceberg ahead!” from crow’s nest boy

But cumbersome, its turn too slow

Its hull was ripped, it sunk below …

 

Both rich and poor and hapless crew

Watched launch of twenty lifeboats new

Resigned alas to Neptune’s grave

Less than a thousand souls were saved…

 

Jewellery, tools and clothes imparted

Treasures of those who departed

Hoping to fulfil their dreams …

State rooms reveal those who had means.

 

Four-bunk-bed cabins for Third Class;

A microcosm of the past

Menus spoke of their last meal

To give all visitors a feel

 

Of life aboard in untold splendour;

Headlines screamed: Night to Remember!

Though 1912 was long ago

This fateful voyage haunts us so!

(c) Poet in the woods 2024

* Thomas Andrews (1873 - April 15th, 1912)

In Brussels until May 20th, 2024

Joy in the Allotments!

The wind gets up, the parks are closed

We stay well wrapped up in warm clothes;

This January has been bleak

With bad news reaching a new peak …

 

But lo! On Sunday with a friend

To the local market, hemmed

In by crowds all keen to buy

Their weekly goodies, I espy

 

In pert profusion round a tree

A wealth of snowdrops bobbing free

All basking quietly in the sun …

Sweet heralds of the spring to come!

 

Down muddy paths where brambles grew

The allotments beckoned - we strolled through

Vast enclosed space where Nature sleeps:

Yet buds in spiky hedgerow peep…

 

So, all’s not lost - bold plants revive

Immune to politics, they thrive

As their cheeky roots send feelers out

And teach us what life is about!

(c) Poet in the woods 2022

 

Four-Season April!

Wind, rain, hail, sun - in just one day?

Four seasons keep us on our toes

What to wear is no child’s play

Is this climate change? Who knows?

 

Another brolly breaks its back

As gusts of wind have attitude

I reach for scarf on hallway rack

This over-clothing shakes my mood…

 

It’s April, birds swoop overhead

Their nesting plan is well in hand

While I on cherry blossom tread

And wafts of pollen on me land.

 

A Nature Poet? Yes, indeed

Today - brief sunlight after rain

These constant squalls my walks impede;

Loud gurgling from a nearby drain!

 

My inner voice screams to be heard:

Best foot forward! Let’s stay zen!

Then the chirruping of one small bird

Prompts me to pick up my pen!

(c) Poet in the woods 2024