A PASSING CIVILIZATION

Fast food packaging
Hits the ground
As a car passes
Paper cups dance
In the artificial breeze
As a lorry passes
In the shrubbery
Tin cans and wrappers lie
As a pedestrian passes
Tickets, receipts, cartons
Bottles, tins and old refrigerators
Each successive piece surpasses
But nature will overcome
Our laziness and contempt
When our tenancy passes

LOOK AT THEM

They appear morning
Noon and night
They swell and grow
Rise and fall
And dissolve and shrink
They are sometimes thick
Sometimes thin
They are sometimes dense
Sometimes transparent
They move fast and slow
They cross treetops and fields
Lakes and seas
Homes and factories
Deserts and swamps
Tropical rainforests
And arctic tundra’s
They are beautiful and familiar
Strange and dramatic
They are myriad in form and shape
A face, a mountain, a fish
They are brown and gray
Steel blue and black
Yellow and gold
Lilac and pink
But mostly clouds are white

STORM FRONT

The gulls screech and scream
Swooping above the cliff top
On the waves below white horses ride
As the tide surge is broken to a stop

Fishing boats appear to dance
Driven by the weather to the south
They make slow progress in the swell
As they bob towards the harbour mouth

As the weather quickly closes in
The gulls desert the cliff top
Making their way inland to safety
Waiting patiently for the storm to stop

PERFECT PARADISE

The crystal waters
Wash gently onto
Virgin white sand
Untrod by man
Unspoiled by technology
And no vapour trails
Mark the azure sky

The trees untended
Lay where they fell
The coconuts un-harvested
But for the wind
Lay untouched also

They beach stretched
As far as the eye could see
Far into the distance
Un-marked and un-scarred
No buildings
No phone masts
No pylons
No wind farms
Or streetlights
The only sounds to be heard
Were the waves breaking,
The gentle breeze in the palms
And assorted birdcalls
No gunfire
No car alarms
No train whistles
No sonic booms
Or traffic
Just a perfect silence

No flotsam of plastics and tins
Littered the beach
Just endless white sand’s
And perfect blue skies
The rustles of palm fronds
And warm scented breezes
So where is this paradise?
It’s in the long distant past

KING GEORGE’S PARAKEETS

It was unbearably hot
Unbearably humid
Even breathing was exhausting
Overcome with fatigue
I parked my jeep at the roadside
In a shaded spot
I recline my seat
And pulled my hat over my eyes
And tried to grab forty
My shirt was soaked with sweat
And stuck to me and the seat
It was no good I couldn’t sleep
It was the constant noise
But not from the traffic
Rumbling by
It was the birds
Squabbling parakeets
Hundreds of them
Chattering and squawking
I gave up trying to nap
And got back underway
You come to expect this
Next to an Australian highway
But not parked in a lay-by
Next to a reservoir in Staines

IS IT YOU?

Is it you?
Are you the one?
Are you my missing puzzle piece?
That will make me whole
And complete the unfinished picture
Or will you be another square peg
In my round hole

Is it you?
Are you the one?
The special other half of me
If we touch will we bond together?
Seamlessly, our borders undefined
Or will we repel like opposite poles
Never to be joined

Is it you?
Are you the one?
The shadow of my soul
Will we fit like hand in tailored glove?
Or will you be like
That hand knitted Christmas gift
From a well meaning aunt

Is it you?
Are you the one?
My long lost soul mate
Will we wear each other?
Like comfortable shoes
Or some fashionable pair
That pinch and rub

Is it you?
Are you the one?
The one that’s made for me
Or don’t you exist
When our fingers touch
Will electricity pass between us?
Or will it just be a static shock
That makes us flinch

Is it you?
Are you the one?
The one I have always sought
Or is it that you don’t exist
And I have set my sights to high
My heart won’t let me believe that
So take my hand and we will try
Can you feel that?

YOU CAN LEARN A LOT FROM TV

Fed up of missing his favourite shows on TV
Young Ben wanted was his own telly
“Could I have a telly in my room dad”?
Reluctantly Dad said yes to the lad
Ben stayed in his room the first night
Next morning he gave his parents a fright
He asked his them “what is love juice?”
His mother left making some feeble excuse
Leaving his Dad to explain the basics
Of sexual intercourse and its mechanics
The boy sat in open mouthed amazement
Dad asked him after his embarrassment
“Exactly what program did you have on?”
The boy replied "I was watching Wimbledon"