My house is my home
And it goes where I roam
And as I grow big
So does it.
It’s always my size
Never too tight a fit
Though I eat and I graze
All night long.
Though it’s comfy and warm
And it keeps me from harm
I never eat in; watch TV.
So tonight I’ll eat out
While the birds not about
And I hope you won’t
Mind little me.
Poem and photo copyright Englepip©
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©
Help me human please as soon you may
For I am not conversant with your ways:
I’m standing here beside the hockey pitch
Have not yet been invited with my stick.
To run around the field that’s over there,
Instead they’ve left me standing without care.
Perhaps they fear ‘cos I am not the same
I’ll bully off with some outlandish sway
And give the game the opposition’s way.
I note the ageing seniors as they pass
Their wrinkled faces dropped beyond their jaws
I offer them the skill that’s on me marked
They must want a facelift for their maws.
Perhaps they cannot hear my little voice
My language may not be their one of choice
For they walk away, conversing in low tones.
About the strange machine parked by the stones.
So lonely and so woebegone am I
To see you brings a tear into my eye
The first to really stop and take a look
And smile at my facade which they forsook
For you can see my friendly alien smile
And know that I am here just for a while
And although you know I look just like a lift
YOU see my alien, parallel world shift.
Beep, burp beep bop twee stip blip
Blop wuv wu.
I was walking by the hockey pitch when I got this view of the lift used to repair the lights. They are very high up and require specialised equipment to replace the bulbs etc. Can you see the alien? I did – it cheered my day and got me to thinking.
Poem and photo by Englepip©. Copyright.
Captured on a wall.
Shadows from a winter sun
Indoors.
‘Let me out!’ or, ‘Let me in!’
‘Can I escape?’ or, ‘Can you?’
Humour or drama in silhouette?
Capture of light and darkness
Static instant caught.
Photo and words copyright Englepip ©
Sometimes things just get in the way
Too much to do and too much to say.
Sometimes busyness takes us over,
Hard to live, when jobs spillover.
Sometimes those we love get ignored
They take up time we cannot afford.
Sometimes time just runs away
And it’s gone before the end of the day.
And if you think I’m just being witty
Wasting your time with a rhyme or a ditty
Then consider the following if you can
What’s the purpose of every (wo)man
If we can’t laugh, love, lead a life that’s true
Cos we’re making excuses that our time flew,
Telling each other there’s no time for you.
Then who are we really and do we deserve
To even exist on this wonderful earth?
So take a moment, a minute, or even an hour
To balance your life and take back the power:
To make your life calmer, even serene:
To begin to remember who you’ve been
Before things took over and time became mean.
Then life will improve and you will feel new;
Take time to consider how time plays with you.
Photo by Englepip©
Photography by Englepip©
In Winter, I have a penchant for ..
Log fires and mulled wine
Snow boarding or skis
For warm scarves and mittens
And a good book to be read.
Come Spring, my penchant changes
to be out in the wild
to watch the winter frosts melt
And see the newborn lambs.
Then comes the oppressive heat of Summer
And my penchant is …
for a seat in the deepest shade
with a cool lemonade
A good book to read… but no moving.
Come the Fall, I’m out again
And my penchant is ….
For colour and for leaves,
I can kick, leaves I can crunch
Nature’s work of art.
But the constant penchant,
The consistent penchant,
The one dependable and true
Is the penchant I share with YOU!
Well … that’s my pen chant for today.
Englepip's World 