Poem 88: The stream that flows near my house

The stream that flows near my house
comes from goodness knows where
and goes to goodness knows where.

I never visit it with dull skies,
but some days when sparkles shake the water
the dog takes a bath.

Has the stream perhaps scampered passed death;
a wild pig’s corpse
or maybe a tatty rotting bird?

Has it greeted fish of every sort;
eels and trout,
and cockerbullies* cowering in caverns?

Have the rough, rocky tumbles
bestowed both cheer and fear
on this joyful jolly journeyman jongleur?

Today I see it hubbubs happily on,
forgiving its past
and singing only of tomorrow’s adventures.

* Small New Zealand freshwater fish.

 

To hear the poem read aloud click HERE.

Poem 16: Songs my father taught me

A bird in a tree sings
the music off by heart
taught by its father

Its father before that
on stout and spikey branches
sang songs its father knew

The early morning light
seeping through trees and leaves
is inspiration

The modern bird
with no unplaced feather
introduces a wrong note

The cacophony of the times
echoes through early mornings
and gives no rest

Correct your note silly bird
and sing your father’s melodies
wrought in the time of dinosaurs

To hear the poem read aloud click HERE.