I Woke very early
\nTo a Dawn chorus where
\nThe male birds were
\nSinging they wake up, they share
\nWhen the mornings are still
\nAnd the traffic is low
\nIt is then that their voices
\nReach further you know<\/p>\n
The females are drawn to the Aria\u2019s
\nRobins and Skylarks begin
\nThrushes and blackbirds
\nand Chiff Chaffs and Black Caps
\nGiving their sonnets a fling
\nA strong light was indeed developing
\nA really blue sky overhead
\nThe early bird
\n catches the worms
\nAs we know
\nBut early birds impress the females
\nAnd show
\nThem it\u2019s a time when the energy flows
\nand when predators tend to be
\nNot on their toes<\/p>\n
Tell me little wren
\nWhat ails you today?
\nIt is all the plastic
\nThat\u2019s coming our way
\nBottles and plastic cups
\nLeft everywhere
\nStraws and spoons
\nLittering so much despair
\nRemnants of food in
\nContainers just left
\nThe absence of thought
\nLeaving many bereft
\nAll sorts of plastics
\nAnd polythene
\nYou humans turn out much
\nFrom the machine<\/p>\n
And many ingest it
\nIt is everywhere
\nComes in via the wind
\nOr is just left there
\nThey come for picnic
\nAnd leave stuff behind
\nToo Lazy to bin it
\nThat\u2019s what we find<\/p>\n
Some we can eat
\nBut the plastics
\nAre bad
\nThey breakdown to tinier pieces
\nIt\u2019s sad
\nFor that\u2019s when we may eat it
\nWherever we go
\nAnd that makes us sick
\nAnd some fail to grow<\/p>\n
Such vulnerability
\nLots now in fright
\nBy the time predators roll out
\nThe song birds take flight
\nWhen traffic builds up
\nand the noise it resounds
\nWe need to get going
\nIn leaps and in bounds
\nIn your blue dress
\nHow do you feel
\nSaid Cyril the Squirrel
\nFrom the Wirral
\nA real
\nBundle of fun
\nWith the squidjiest tail
\nBumping along
\nA confident male<\/p>\n
A touch of parkour
\nA gymnast he be
\nStripping the bark
\nFrom a youthful Birch tree
\nComfortably nervous
\nIn so many ways
\nHe hears something
\nAnd bundles off
\nand displays
\nA verve And a coyness
\nChasing the light
\nLeaping and peeping
\nAnd finding his height<\/p>\n
Festooned with sticky buds
\nAnd some more sweet
\nLoving the panoply
\nIt\u2019s the SPRING treat
\nFor all of us actually
\nBut plastic bits
\nReally in the scheme of things
\nReally it sits
\nIn a worrying area
\nSome little souls
\nHave keeled over and died
\nThey lost their controls
\nThings got all mucky
\nAs gritty as hell
\nNothing\u2019s the same
\nAnd lots are unwell
\nFly tipping great stacks
\nOf rubble and grit
\nOld cans of paint
\nThat smells quite a bit
\nJust dumped on the apron
\nA slovenly act
\nPollution is active
\nThat is a fact<\/p>\n
The creatures are wary
\nThe ponging unclean
\nWhere there were once bluebells
\nNow the obscene
\nThe frantic the chaotic
\nIt gets to us we
\nRankle and fester
\nThis just shouldn\u2019t be
\nIt is disconcerting
\nA magickal wood
\nWith wonderful tree lines
\nLeafy and good
\nAmazing light forces
\nAnd recuperation
\nOf shrubs generating
\nA Truer salvation<\/p>\n
Virulence causes
\nA Hazarding time
\nThe insects and birds
\nCaught up in the slime
\nThe fungal uncertainty
\nDripping with ooze
\nMother Nature is active
\nAnd trying to please
\nShe the great balancer
\nAble to be
\nCreative with cover
\nIt\u2019s her sanctuary
\nMajor activity
\nLaying in more
\nThorns yes and tangle
\nHustlers for sure<\/p>\n
Brambles to catch hold
\nOf ankles and knees
\nScrub is essentially
\nTrying to squeeze
\nA ribbon of briars
\nNeglected they swell
\nSo many layers
\nThe wildness to sell
\nThe boar and the wolves
\nHave left long ago
\nMan ruins everything
\nThat much we know
\nBut magickal beings
\nAre still everywhere.
\nEmbracing the present
\nAnd cleaning the air
\nAs the rooks and the jays
\nOn the scene what they do
\nIs bury the acorns
\nAnd the insects work through<\/p>\n
It\u2019s a whole living paradigm
\nThorns everywhere
\nIdeal nesting sites
\nFor those more aware
\nMagpies they frequent
\nThe Hawthorn and they
\nBuild their twig and clay nests
\nHigher each day
\nEverything\u2019s managed
\nCause and effect
\nThe sweet fairy May
\nThe scent we detect
\nHeady and warm
\nWith its snowy white flowers
\nAnd Insects and Bees
\nWith their ultimate powers
\nOf seduction and sweetness
\nAnd, so much more
\nAn essential spirit no one
\nCan ignore<\/p>\n
My blue dress has brought me
\nResources and guile
\nI have met many friends
\nWhen we chat for a while
\nAll the time learning
\nThe need to respect
\nThe spellbinding magic
\nWhich is often just checked
\nAnd preserved in a bounteous way
\nTo enchant and astound
\nAt the end of each day
\nConversing and learning
\nFrom the bugs and the bees
\nFrom the moths and the butterflies
\nWishing to please
\nThe scurrying rodents
\nThe great thinking owls
\nCrusaders and knights
\nIn their own special way
\nWho forgive and forget
\nJust to get through each day,<\/p>\n
Poetic justice it\u2019s just everywhere
\nIt seems like a battle ground
\nUnchallenged and fair
\nSo many levels of life
\nSide by side
\nAtonement and sacrifice
\nIt\u2019s one long ride
\nA parallel universe
\nEverywhere
\nAnd millions and millions
\nOf the aware<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I Woke very early To a Dawn chorus where The male birds were Singing they wake up, they share When the mornings are still And the traffic is low It is then that their voices Reach further you know The … Continue reading