Monday, 4 August 2008
The Litte Flowepot
Looking for a loving home.
Over the years he had grown many flowers,
Inside the window and away from the showers.
Geraniums, chrysanths and many more
Reds, pinks, yellows and blue azure.
He had so many tales to tell,
His sad little eyes began to well.
Life had been good at the very start,
He was shiny and new and VERY smart.
He tended the plants with loving care,
Some water here, some water there.
The bumblebees would call to say
"May we please take some nectar to-day?"
Their black and yellow striped suits they wore
To go and make honey in their store.
The little flower pot loved this life,
Away from all the toil and strife.
Then one day he slipped and fell,
The flowers knew that he was not well.
The little flower pot wept and cried
Thrown on the compost heap on his side
A little hedgehog scurrying by,
Said “little flowerpot do not cry.”
Autumn and winter turned into spring,
The little flower pot was caught up in string
And safe inside his sheltered lea
Two baby hedgehogs played with glee.
The little flower pot lives again,
In sunshine, tempest, storm and rain.
His hedgehog family he guards with pride
His face a grin from side to side.
Gypsy
Happy August!
Here comes August once again
Always smiling, wind, shine or rain
Time for holidays and fun
Under a happy warming sun.
School is over, hip hooray
Six long weeks of happy play
No more lessons, no more work
Yes we want to laze and shirk.
Off to the beach we go for a swim
Sun tan lotion from limb to limb
Then to sun bathe on the beach
Picnic Hamper within reach.
Ice cream cones to cool us down
Punch and Judy act the clown
Children buildings homes of sand
Happy laughter throughout the land.
So happy August please try and stay
We don’t want you ever to go away.
As family and friends all meet together
Every year under your umbrella,
Barbara BrewinThe Little Frog
A little frog came out one day
All he wanted to do was play
He looked around with his great big eyes,
But all he could see were some dragon flies.
Pink and yellow, blue and gold
They hovered overhead, a joy to behold
The little frog just said “good day”
You have your fun,
The lily pond lay just ahead
Large shiny leaves and one beautiful spread
Of White and golden lily heads
Nestling majestically in their beds.
A large lily pad came bobbing past
The little frog jumped into the pond
But the leaf carried on floating to far beyond.
The little frog was all alone
“What shall I do? He said with a groan
A beautiful mermaid sat nearby
She smiled and the little frog went all shy
They sat in silence side by side
The mermaid’s tail her joy and pride
They sealed their meeting with a kiss
The frog turned into a prince, sheer bliss
Gypsy
The Birthday Card
For my son on his natal day
It’s something I do on this date each year.
So why do I want to shed a tear?
Old Father Time never stands still
Your birthday always brings me a thrill.
Memories of the day you were born
Just before the break of Sunday’s dawn
With jet black hair and cornflower blue eyes
And the sweetest nose, just button size,
You were just so beautiful you see,
I said “you can’t belong to me”.
This beautiful baby changed my life
I was no longer just a wife.
A husband and son who needed me
Just two of us had changed to three.
Like the sands of time which never stand still
The years flew by up and downhill
From baby, toddler, to teens and young man
Just like a bridge the years did span.
A son of whom I am so proud
Although I don’t shout it aloud.
Now you’re a man with your own family
And my three grandchildren, a thrill to me
So happy birthday dearest son
I cry because your card just says “Love from Mum”
If only your dad were here to say
“Happy birthday son on this your day.”
© Barbara Brewin 01.08.08 All rights reserved
The Spider's Web
The spider spins away all night
Under the beams of the golden moonlight
Her gossamer webs she spins and weaves
It’s beauty spreads from trees and leaves
Her magic silver thread she spins
She has no need for needles and pins
Her magic patterns glisten in the light
Forming ghost like patterns in the night
The spider’s web is a work of art
Sheer magic, beauty from the heart
When winter comes all is not lost
The web is covered with a pure white frost
Her lace would grace a wedding gown.
With silver droplets for a crown
As daylight welcomes the day ahead
Our industrious spider goes to bed.
The Old Steam Train
Standing at the station
Waiting for the train
I hear a loud shrill whistle
There it is again.
Far off in the distance
Chuff Chuff Chuff I hear
Here comes a big black steam engine
It is on fire I fear!
From its chimney pours black smoke
The station’s full of fog
I see the driver stoke the fire
What is he doing with that log?
Step from the platform onto the train
There lingers the smell of a cherished cigar
The shabby seats all creak and groan
“We’re off “ shouts a voice from a megaphone.
The ticket collector comes along
With his dark uniform he stands grimly to attention
Tears the ticket right in half
Well what I said I dare not mention!
The doors are shut, the whistle blows
The guard dips the flag jumps in the guard van
Better get my head inside
Don’t want to be a dead man.
We’re off at last, to puff puff puff
The steam comes wafting back
I wheeze and splutter, cough and choke
Then into a tunnel, everything goes black.
Clickety click, clickety click, clickety click
The wheels go round and round
Out of the tunnel and into the light
Again the whistle blows – we’re seaside bound
Stop at a station by a water tank
Go and see the driver and his mate
They’re taking on water to turn to steam
This is a smell you love to hate.
We're nearly now at journey’s end
What an adventure this has been
Why would I put myself through all this you ask?
To relive the wonderful days of steam
The smell of steam goes through my lungs
I breathe in its aroma
You see I’m on a nostalgic memory trip
On a steam train going to Cromer
© Barbara Brewin. All rights reserved 29.07.2008
Sunday, 3 August 2008
The English Garden
Visited by black and yellow coated bumble bees
They take the pollen from the core
To make honeycomb, in their store.
The bushes lush and green with leaves
A ladybird climbs up with ease
Her dress red and black spotted polka dot
She sits near a wasp in the sunniest spot
A red admiral butterfly hovers above
His delicate wings like a gossamer glove
He leaves behind him a chrysalis cocoon
So many more butterflies will follow quite soon.
Our Blackbird friends now join the fray
They need twigs to build their nests in May
They forage round and look for worms
Mum and Dad taking it each in turns.
The coloured fish swim in the pond all day
Trying to chase toads and frogs away.
Blue and pink dragonflies fly over low
The newts look on with their bellies an orange glow.
The other birds pay a garden visit too
Redbreast robin, sparrow, thrush to name but a few
The starlings push to be first into the bird bath
Splashing water all over the path.
Squirrels, dormice, hedgehogs, a shrew
Even at night time they come out to view
The wild life animals - such a joy to behold.
These are life’s riches more precious than gold.
© Barbara Brewin 30.07.2008 All rights reserved