A Trio of poems on a Snowy day.


Oh! Look – snow.

It’s no joke

For old folk.

Hungry birds,

Gathering on the wall

Different species.

Both large and small.

Little birds

Eat nuts from a feeder.

No food today for

Birds any bigger –

they will go hungry.


No two the same

Flutter slowly,

Windblown ones

Hurtle passed

The window.

Indoors the

Heating is on

Through the

Windows, we

Watch and wonder




The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves, no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

If your life is to mean Something…

‘If your life is to mean something, it is up to you.

You cannot influence the movements of the planets. You cannot live forever. You cannot affect the entropy of the universe. All you can do is make this moment — your moment — better. You can affect the lives of others around you, and you can affect your own life. You can ease some suffering…’ (The Universe Doesn’t give a Flying F**k About You), Truant, J.(date not printed)

Snowdrops, by E. Sirrell.

Snowdrops.     By E. Sirrell.

Always remember,

That if a small, delicate flower

Can find strength

To push its way

Through hard frozen ground

Year after year.

The the possibilities

For humans are endless.


We have so much more




Then we realise

We need to learn,

How to use it the correct way.


A few Verses, not meant to be taken seriously….

Verses on Flu and Flew.

To Spain, we flew

For a week or two,

For rest and relaxation.

Back home we flew,

Guess who came too

What? The Flu!!



What can you do?

When you’ve got the flu

Sit it out with a tablet or two

Keep warm with plenty of tissues!


A bird down our chimney flew

Rattle, bang, crash, and squawk.

It landed behind our gas fire

Roy, not liking birds, was no help

What was I to do, what was I to do?

Well nothing, I couldn’t help it

poor dead bird, to heaven – it flew.


What to write about flew and flu,

I puzzled what to do, to do?

My head, unthinking, zippo

What can I write, what can I do

I don’t know, it’s up to you!!


And to finish:


A haiku to write

About atishoo, cough!

Pass me a tissue


Messages. A poem written by a WW1 Soldier.

The Messages.


“I cannot quite remember……

         There were five.

Dropt dead beside me in the trench

         And three

Whispered their dying messages to me…..


Back from the trenches, more dead

         Than alive,

Stone deaf and dazed, and with a broken knee

He hobbled slowly, muttering vacantly.


I cannot quite remember…..

         There were five

Dropt dead beside me in the trench

          And three

Whispered their dying messages to me…..”


Their friends were wondering

        How they thrive

Waiting a word in silence patiently…..

But what they said, or who their

         Friends may be.


I cannot quite remember…..there

         Were five

Dropt dead beside me in the trench

  • And there

Whispered their dying messages to me


Poem by Wilfred Wilson Gibson  (1905-1925)


Notes: The returned soldier, losing his memory

Partially deaf and dazed haunted by the memory

Of those who whispered to him before they died.

His was maybe the first known case of PTSD.

The spelling of “Dropt” is as the poet wrote it.



The story of Tit Birds in my Garden.

Tit birds in my garden.

My next door neighbor, Ray, has always

fed the birds, we have always watered them.

Then, one morning, Ray was run over by

an unlicensed, uninsured person in the

Library Car Park, The feeders soon emptied.

I thought I had better take over his job.


I went and bought a selection of food

and the holders, some suet squares.

Filling them up, I came indoors and waited.

No birds arrived, it took a few days before

the jeweled coloured Blue tits came.

They turned out to be so shy if they

saw a movement in the kitchen

they hid in the dormant Hawthorne.


We were to be visited by Great tits,

long-tailed tits, dull brown Sparrows,

the odd Blackbird fluttered frantically

trying to emulate the dainty Blue tits.

They ate so much, I had to quickly

restock the holders. It is such a joy

to watch the antic and jealous spats.

The squirrel joined in the feeding frenzy.


I saw Ray outside with a crutch, filling

his nut holders. He told me he “had

let me borrow his birds while he

was out of action so I

could keep his birds a little longer”.

For a little time, we are sharing

His birds!!