Thank you Johann
What you have done
Is something beautiful
Like a real sun
Gleaming from a peaceful sky
Re balancing all souls that cry
For Nature and the many birds
And animals all lost for words
Thank you
Thank you Johann
What you have done
Is something beautiful
Like a real sun
Gleaming from a peaceful sky
Re balancing all souls that cry
For Nature and the many birds
And animals all lost for words
Thank you
Loving our mothers
The ultimate gift
She carried us
As we developed
Each lift
Was hers
And she fed us
And birthed us and we
Profoundly love
Unbelievably
Because of her
Wolves don’t need humans
Their college of learning
Is burned into their souls
It’s always concerning
Nature they dwell in its depths
Everyday
Wolves are the soul urge
The break of each day
Wolves chase the weak
And remain strong
Family is everything
Family
A lone figure strides away
over icy hillocks
Enjoying his day
The biting wind
a hop a skip
he unpacks his tent awhile
fixing it against the wind
inside a man with style
it really does feel violent
830 metres above the sea
in English “frogs leg” it be called
in 1957 a Canberra crashed
and all around is the debris
out of the wind this amazing man
should have his dinner here
in his mountain camp
where fear
and cold and ice
and loneliness assured
to sleep the dream
And not be ignored.
Simon the bloke
Snowdonia’s man
extreme wind and blizzards
that’s his plan
as fit as can be
on the mountains we see
a diminutive figure alone
gloved up and trousered
sloshing along
gets out his stove
sardines and noodles
does belong
fortified, he goes on his way
to the highest lake
on this Wintry day
built of sterner stuff He be
Earth and sky
And Infinity.
Dear Sean came by
this morning
he empties my bins , a soul
offering up his early morning smiles
its just a role
he plays in life,
part of Dear Snowdonia
a charming lad
driving up here cheerily
and to see him
I am just glad.
The wind and the lights
its one of those nights
rain on the window
gives an impression
a circular vision
a sort of inversion
Dolgellau i see
the Moelwyns are sleeping
the forests unseen
As the old Bard sits peeping
Just having been
out by the Afon Babi forest.
The balance sheet
Is all he ever thinks about alas
Calves are being thrown away
It’s being done en masse
A mother pines forever
This heartless sod won’t care
He will never be aware
Killing wild foxes
with hounds in a hunt
get government handouts
its
seems it’s a punt
exemptions and benefits
a kind of crude
Stunt
thousands and thousands
from councils, from subsidies
it makes no difference criminals they
make it frightfully obvious
trailing and scaling and getting away
farming grants rates relief
law breaking happening
clad in their gear rosettes and dosh
fighting off sab’s
it just doesn’t wash.
Saboteurs following
The hound’s are wallowing
The bigger hunts
money from government
its one big shame
some of them torturing foxes
their game
snooty as ever
they carry on
dressed up to kill
hunting at will
getting away with it
Through wood over hill
arrogance bloated they are
and they seek
to chase our fine foxes
and grab loads of cash
whilst the warrior saboteurs
bloody well dash
around the countryside
knowing the score
we have a statute
and yes at war
with toffs getting hand outs
government backed
despite the laws this is a fact
These hunts are evil
They break the law
They get the big nod
and the sabs they ignore
blood sports are ugly
blood sports are wrong
we all know it’s happening
and it doesn’t belong
On our land where true history
knows what it’s about
we must crack the whip
let no huntsman flout
the laws of this land
let councils admit
handouts and funding
it should never sit
anywhere really
obfuscation we see
we hear it we fear it
it’s out there we be
getting the F O I’s
clearly many say
and prove that some big hunts
are getting their way
even the criminals
Going to court
are still getting funding
for what is blood sport
murdering chasing torturing they
clad in their regalia
are getting away
with public funding
non nod wink wink
even the cops seem to turn a blind eye
thousands and thousands of
our money lie
in the coffers of bandits
killing the wild
Leaving them panting
and sadly defiled.
FOXES HARES DEERS WILD BIRDS DEATHS
anyone funding them for whatever reason
needs exposing and stopping forthwith.
🦊🦌🐇🐰🐦⬛🦆🪿🐿️
The gloriousness of Autumn, leaves
the ultimate of hues
the flush and blush of gold
enobled
by Nature’s realm of old
sulphur tinged, Birch yellow
apricot tangerine
November’s cooling influence
that brings forth this wondrous scene
the wildness of the water
Afon Babi, cries
gurgles smashing onwards
foamy spumy froth
A creamy alabaster and an almost
boiling broth
the energy of Winters bite
the pulsation of it all
you can hear it
you can feel it
you can see
The ebb and fall
A progeny of action
spawned of the mountain side
a true force to contend with
onlookers may wish to hide
feeling frightened by the turbulence
bubbling deep in their inside.
It’s frighteningly obvious to those of us who know
The way farms treat their animals
Helping them to grow
On lots of toxic substances
Pesticides galore
Herbicides so horrible
Out there we are at war
With Nature
Dairy screams and I
Know first hand how many
Young Souls sadly die
Long before their true age
Shackled and broken they
Victims of the Meat Trade
In essence fade away
The ability route
and the easy route
different paths to try
Birch and Beech
and Douglas Fir
whose great trunks reach the sky
Hari rides his track bike
up and over he
is only four but is very sure
he can motor effortlessly
reaching the North East Corner
of the forest
what we found
is a wooden bridge
across the Afon Babi
and the sound
of wildness from the water
Crashing over rocks
Imagine tiddlers leaping
and taking all those knocks
Llanfachreth and it’s tall Pines
a cacophony
Treading over fallen leaves
some were slippery
deciding to take the harder
path
around the ability route
relatively easy going up
but coming down
twas absolute
tricky sliding occasionally
into tortoise mode
and the colours of the fallen leaves
worthy of this ode
In many ways
To be going out
on a Saturday afternoon
something I hadn’t planned
to do
still and opportune
a bluish sky
some sunlit cloud
Autumnal colours to the fore
Sun kissed Birch and tree tops
all part of the natural Law
witness to the reds and ochres
serenity aligned
heading towards the mountain tops
magically designed
varying colourful strata’s
a postcard of a place
a gentle breeze apparent
in tune with a Wintry face
I am going to take a walk
with friends
something good to do
out in the air
to briskly share
some soft rain
glistening through
the bushes near my window
Diadems of light
the old leaves
hanging on for dear life
as if it was their right.
British Columbia an Ostrich Farm
hundreds of birds
are going to be
murdered poor souls
the courts word is CULLED
for who the bell tolls
Bird flue apparently
has seemingly
cut down a few birds
and so it seems has to be
the courts bloody ruling
shoot everyone
or break their necks
its what they’ve done
a lass Katie Pasitney
crying
she like us here, thinks the court
have got little idea
about life
sedative drugs and a blood thirsty kill
avian FLU and the worse type of strife.
When the Squirrel Fell, New Friends Came to Help youtube.com/shorts/GM5oJYC… via @YouTube
Deliverance
Retrieval
From potentially deaths door
Poor little squirrel
Wanted much more
Than a broken back falling out of the tree
That cat heartbroken
As much as could be
The vile unconcern
of the space agists soul
allocating a dog
from the streets
in a role
of being shot into
the Moscow sky
in a tiny capsule
where she would die
an emotional beast
thin skinned and alone
an affectionate mut
from the emotional zone
somewhat excited
by the attention that day
being fired into space
on a excessive foray
the technicians deciding
soonest she’d Be
blown into pieces
Abominably
Their unconcern
unconscious it would seem
to the very last
breath
of what was their dream
Imagine it’s innocence
Emotionally
It was susceptible
Inactivity
Lost on the street
In Moscow that day
Science apparent
Stole her away
Strapped into a space craft
And fired into the sky
With no return ticket
Just martyrdom
Cows locked up in dirty barns
Fed on god knows what
Their innate choice of herbage
Now they haven’t got
All sorts of shit and chemicals
Fed to females who
Are sensitively active
And suppressed like hell it’s true
Cows locked up in dirty barns
Fed on god knows what
Their innate choice of herbage
Now they haven’t got
All sorts of shit and chemicals
Fed to females who
Are sensitively active
And suppressed like hell it’s true
Heartache and suffering
We can see
And we can feel it obviously
Angst and anguish
Purgatory
This amazing beast
Is mournfully
Indisposed and suffering so
Tears of blood
As well we know
victims of bull fighting and bull running
A great fat cyst with chips oh dear
The poor young pig Twas very clear
Lived it’s cruel life in a crate
With food thrown at it
Who would wait
These poor young souls
Tortured all day
Knocked about
And made to pay
Pigs live clean lives
What they need
Is not to get over heated indeed
They have no sweat glands
They need fresh air
Not confined in shit holes
Everywhere
Human carers are anything but
🐖🐖🐖🐖🐖🐖🐖🐖🐖🐖🐖🐖🐖🐖🐖🐖🐖🐖🐖
For farmers to do this
To pigs in these crates
Simply to save space
It does it rates
The farmer as evil
Vile and unfair
Deliberately cruel
And so unaware
Hurt harmed and messed up
A verminous state.
When I’m no more
where will I be
dust in some urn
not able to see
my home
all the hard work
my dear Friend
just gone
Thrown over the mountains
or just sprinkled upon
I cry in my soul
as each day passes by
and my journey ends
so upset am I
A baby is wasted
Creatively
Entered the world
Of true adversity
On the vile carousel
A baby did cry
A mother in pain
That baby will die
Sooner than it’s mother
Born in the wrong place
It was raped by a farm hand
What a disgrace
Breathing the air
The stench of the barn
Backs into the darkness
A sick awful yarn
Before our eyes
A baby in need
A mother in agony
They are stealing her milk
As her baby arrives
A promise of course
No one survives
The dairy life’s hairy
To the gullible who
We’re raped and made pregnant
And gave birth it is true
She will not see her offspring
But still feels it’s pain
She won’t hear it cry
Not ever again
Tonight the rain is smashing against
the window pane
the weather here is really awful and
a bitter crosswind causing massive howling
a raging storm now blowing off the land
the trees are obviously out there bending crazily
blast after blast in what appears a rage
the Hawthorn and the Holly
the oak trees and the Pines
its like a banshee’s vitriol
the ancient wood has the signs
of feeling shock and weakness
in the midst of such a storm
Samhain is now upon us
the thinning of the veil
a time evoking spirits
Who may join us on the trail
The so called dairy farming staff
Somehow are unaware
Of making mothers stand in shit
It really is unfair
They service life they are mothers
And sadly what we do
Is be totally unfair to them
Tragically it’s true
They suffer for our arrogance
And our ignorance alas
Cruelty is the deed we share
Tragically en masse
Pumpkins and root crops
And frost faeries come
As the city folks leave
Night falls and some
Light forms exist where the stars
And the moon
Bring a share of true freedom
Which helps us attune
to the season