Little Me

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©


Stumpy

_1600354

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©

Daily Prompt: The Alien

_1570209

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.

 

 

via Daily Prompt: Conversant

Time flies

_1450556

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©

 

via Daily Prompt: Witty

Penchant for?

Photography by Englepip©

pjimage

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.

 

 

via Daily Prompt: Penchant