The Inkwell
#Seasons #Autumn #Poetry #Nature
A Sign that winters on the way
Up in the trees, the leaves colours are changing
There hangin’ on to their branches for dear life but
Unless you haven’t noticed – greens have been swapped for
Mostly Reds and Browns, with yellows inbetween
Note though – occasional splashes of crimson – Christmas coming early ?
#Socs #Collarsup
Considering its not the warmest
Outside, and it
Looks like autumnal weather is here
Like an old friend
Application of a Woollen Jumper or Scarf might be in order
Really good Duffelcoat or Waterproof to keep out the rain
Something tells me we’re going to need it
Until mother nature allows the mercury to rise – its best to
Prepare….stay indoors if you don’t have to go out – wrap up if you do
There’s a definite change in the air
although he’s there – you don’t see the sun as much
longer nights, shorter days
expect the palette on the trees to change
on the whole – there’s signs that winter is on her way
frosty mornings covering fallen autumn leaves
a mass of crispy leaves amass
under the trees that once held them
to the wildlife its a sign to check the supplies and get
under the covers till the arrival of spring
munching on supplies before drifting off to sleep
night owls staying by their nests
#Writephoto #Dance
#Weather #Lockdown #Poetry
The idea : imagine it snows constantly for 30 years – and then it stops…..
Strange….the snowflakes aren’t falling today
no more than a mouse has come
out to the house
where i live
Mum and dad are at our kid’s
so i’m sat under a rug
watching BBC News
all nice and snug
Wireless classics from out on the stage
and comedy recordings for a digital age
kept me occupied and going
off the page
But its starting to melt,
the snow and the ice
with the thermometer rising
its feeling quite nice
Need a shovel – not a boat
but i’ll be wearing my big coat
as to the shop i go
dressed like an eskimo
Salford 30th April 2020
They come back every spring time
when the mercury starts to rise
taking up a home in the trees
giving passers by a surprise
Two birds sitting in their nest
wait till little uns do arrive
then mum and dad will feed them
so the little uns do thrive
And each morning when the suns up
Mum (or Dad) does hop
out of their green leaved little home
on a journey to the shops
Returning with some corn or wheat
or maybe a worm or a bug
to feed up the little birdies
in the nest all nice and snug
But like all little children
they grow up and explore
so don’t be surprised, if in morning you rise
and find the kids next door
#Napowrimo #Inthefridge
Salford. 8th April 2020
A tale of an ice cube in Summer, by Inky
An ice cube took a holiday
from the freezer he was in
took a trip to warmer times
enjoying with a grin
He sat on a place by some fruit
just by the processed meat
and began to drip on his saucer
staying together – a bit of a feat
Avoiding the butter and onions
he waited in his pool
dripping away in the fridge
while others thought it cool
but then oh what a great big show,
as into a jug he did go
joining the fruit and ice cubes in the pool
keeping the humans lovely and cool
Salford, 31st March 2020
A poem on the sun going down by inky – its been published by Forward Poetry, appeared on Luna’s blog at Lunatheblog.com and now its back home – enjoy the read………
The pebbles on the shore
were picked up and stacked
for skimming on the sea
Stacked with care
Precariously balanced
The wind made them wobble
The sun watched as
it created shadowy silhouettes
around the sandy shore
Till the tide began to turn
and the stack on the shore
alerted the little ones
The pebbles on the shore
told the children playing on the sand
it was time to go for dinner
#ice #snow #winter
Early morning wake up call
the winds are bawling
“Jack frosts been calling”
Dancing with the frost fairies
all across the land
And underfoot, the fallen leaves
have hardened up and stood their ground
deciding not to be pushed around
defiantly cracking as you tread
a sign they’re sleeping – and not dead.
The crunch of frosted grass – like ice
is enough for some to think twice
for as you make your way to your house
creeping into warm like a church mouse
in a nest under tiles, their covered up thrice
