Rush hour in the branches

 Blowing with the falling leaves

a sudden squall of blue and great

and long tailed tits all intermingled

sailed the brisk December breeze.

I wondered why an avian flock

so diverse flowed for several minutes,

all streaming in the same direction,

through the winter wasted trees.

Nothing apparently pursuing

so, intent on destination,

perhaps encouraging each other

they can go wherever they please.

But they're flying to who knows where?

Still too warm to really care

escaping the mid-winter cold

before the fields and gardens freeze.

Perhaps they're spurred by casual stories

heard from chiff chaff or some warblers

of places where the sun's still warm

and life is lived with greater ease.

Certainly they're heading south

surfing on the chill north wind,

tumbling through the straggled branches

of my garden's apple trees.

She's the attractive one. I'm just her friend.

She gets attention from all of the men

jostling each other to ask her to dance.

They don't notice me, except maybe a glance.

Sure, I'm not happy at being ignored

but it's better than staying at home to get bored.

I know I'm not beautiful, can't expect much

but every so often enjoy a guy's touch.

And she understands - as soon as I can

I'll go my own way and swap her for a man.

Belly dance

Such sensual undulations in

the fluid body's rippling skin;

enticement in the waving flex

but ancient threat in the slow relax;

seduction in such lazy motion -

a calm day on the flat-bellied ocean !

Bamberry

I've read somewhere oriental bamboo

is the fastest growing plant on Earth

but for this summer it won't be true

because, despite the prolonged dearth

of rain in England, continual sun

with record heat, deep rots in clay

have all combined together to run

a new contender into play.

My blackberry plant, though lacking charms,

just like some giant, deep sea squid,

has outflung all its grasping arms

to post its oriental bid.

I never would have believed a plant

could grow so fast and overwhelm

all other foliage that can't

escape this tyrant's realm.

Garden Centre

The slaughtered are arranged in rows,

displayed so everybody sees

a kind of genocide that shows

the massacre of christmas trees.

The castle of the ego is assaulted

on all sides by images and ideas.

The guarding walls are slowly undermined,

the moat drained dry by prejudice and fears.

The citadel of ego is bombarded

relentlessly by missiles from above.

Besieged by banners, only ignoring sleepers,

uncaptured, blind and deaf, survive in love.

Tweets 6

New driving habit

----------------------

Now that the price of petrol's so damn high

whenever possible I do my best to try

and cut my driving costs the most -

wherever I can I coast.

For some women a man's

just the means to an end

if his love will extend

to the children she plans.

Not all abilities decline with age.

Some indeed may actually improve.

Although self-confidence may slip a stage,

self-delusion makes an upward move.

Companionship is animal.

Love is uniquely human.

Spending money to make life easy

gives less satisfaction than

successfully struggling cheaply.

For some people chores are a burden,

just a waste of time.

For others they're a godsend,

a way to fill up time.

The camera never lies ?

-----------------------------

Why is it, I wonder,

that my face looks better

in my bathroom mirror

than in my camera ?

The gym transmutes inactive lethargy

into healthy satisfying fatigue.

Like the mediaeval Philosophers' Stone

a gympass is a precious gymstone.

Why spend a fortune on a fancy watch

instead of a quid on a lapel badge

to say just the same  -  'I am rich'.