Stumpy

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I lift, I try, I try to fly
My wings I flex to do those tricks
My mother does, my father does
But I’m still just a ball of fuzz.

I know you’re s’posed to flap a bit
To work those muscles, not just sit
But here I stay, feet on the ground
My wings I think must be unsound.

They’re stumpy, there’s no doubting it
They’ve no real feathers I admit
But maybe if I flex them lots
My wings will grow and you’ll see what’s

The outcome when I grow  so tall
With feathers  great and neck so long
I’ll be a fine fellow with a honking call
And you’ll look at me and be enthralled

And we won’t recall this little bit
When wings are wrong and just don’t fit
Will we?

Verse and photo copyright Englepip©

A rose by any other name

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They call you dog rose,
But could anything
Be more sublime
Than your five pink petals
And your  yellow filaments fine?

Derogatory term for beauty
Here hiding shyly
In the shade of early June.
Dappled light of early summer
But hedges soon to festoon.

They say you will cure
A mad dog’s bite
Your juices potent in the fight
But for me your beauty
Is the simple remedy
That helps heal a heart
Pierced by inconstant love’s dart.

Poem and photo copyright Englepip©

The gun at noon

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With precision and aplomb,
The ceremony’s begun
And the soldier marches quick
Around the gun.
Dressed in military red
With his shako on his head,
He steps around the cannon
To his post.

Then with solemnity polite
He lights the fuse and sets alight
The shot that marks the noon
On Guernsey Isle.

Poem and photo copyright Englepip©

Please read the following link for more information on this ceremony.
via Daily Prompt: Ceremony

Daily Prompt: New dawn

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I stand by the road
Watching the sun rise:
Dissipating the early morning fog
Which has hung like a blur
Across the landscape.
The frost freezes my toes and fingers
And my breath, a smoky dragon breath
Hangs in the morning air.

First there was nothing
Not a hand before my face
Could be seen in the dark whiteness;
As though the world was lost to me.

Even the sounds were muffled.

But then comes a glimmer
Turning grey to yellow
So that cloudiness
Thins into suffused brightness.
And then with one intense burst of sunlight,
The world throws off its murky past.
And all that seemed lost is found.
The birds trill their morning greetings.
And the road ahead emerges,
A winding, uncertain track
Reaching into the distance.
But now I know which way to travel.
I start out, gladly, full of hope.

 

I wrote this poem as a metaphor. It is about emerging from depression. It is possible to feel lost, as though every person, thing and place we know has changed and disappeared from our lives; as though we are cut off and shrouded from the world and can find no future. That is the dark night in the fog.  However,  gradually, oh so gradually light emerges; we begin to see  a way forward and no matter how uncertain  it is, it is so important to recognise the way and take the chance. For there is always a way forward, no matter how far we have sunk into ourselves.

Poem and photo copyright Englepip©

 

via Daily Prompt: Disappear

Daily Prompt: Skewed

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Seeing things askew
Creates different points of view
Bringing insights new.

I wonder how many of us are stuck in our ways; only seeing the world through the common point of view, which suits ourselves. Taking a ‘skewed’ perspective can be positive. It makes for a new look at the world as we know it and we can begin to discover things we weren’t aware were there. Have you ever looked at something and suggested to a child, “Look at that,” while seeing something which is obvious to us, only to discover that the child only noticed the insect in the grass or the dog at a person’s feet?. Is the child’s vision a skewed vision? Is it  any less valid than our own?  Are our skills of observation so blinkered, that we forget to look further than the obvious?

Words and photo copyright Englepip©

via Daily Prompt: Skewed