Tag Archives: river

Waiting on an Otter

I had this idea bouncing about in my mind for a few weeks before I managed to scribble it down.  Unfortunately, mid-way through the third verse, I realised that triplets were probably not my best idea, but I was too happy with the first verse to change it.  Actually, it was at the precise point I realised that I had to find something to rhyme with faded and jaded, which was not ‘play dead’.  Sometimes it’s good to challenge yourself.  Enjoy, and please let me know what you think below!

 

Waiting on an Otter
I went for a walk the other day,
Down a path where otters are said to play,
I looked as I went on my ambling way,
But I didn’t see any otters.
 
I decided a stakeout would be my best bet,
Sat as close to the river as I could get,
Without running the risk of getting wet,
But I didn’t see any otters.
 
I sat there as the daylight faded,
My enthusiasm now growing somewhat jaded,
Thankful that I was from the wind shaded,
And I still hadn’t seen any otters.
 
I sat and watched a grebe family swim by,
Listened to the pigeons and honking geese fly,
Watched as Saturn appeared in the sky,
And I still hadn’t seen any otters.
 
I sat and listened as the barn owls screeched,
The end of my endurance was almost reached,
As the night my body heat slowly leached,
And still not a sign of an otter.
 
Frozen and sleepy I gave up at last,
Realised that lunch was now in the distant past,
It seems the odds against me were vast,
So I still hadn’t seen any otters.
 
I took a roadtrip the very next day,
To visit some friends in old Pompey,
At the Aquarium we watched three otters at play,
I saw some at last, but they don’t count!
09/09/2013

 

 

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Nothing’s Going to Stop Us

I’ve not dared look how long it has been since I posted something new here.  Partly because that is also how long I’ve had writers block for, in spite of my best efforts to break it, partly because I know it has been far too long (and a friend told me off).

 

Recently two of my friends, Tom and Welsh Dave joined me in a trip to our usual stomping grounds for a walk following a bit of snow.  In light of the fact that other friends who lived nearer to there assured us that the roads were clear and it would be fine…let us just say it was slightly more challenging than usual.  But we didn’t give up!  No challenge that we faced beat us.  Choosing to skip one of our diversions on the ground that it would be too dangerous doesn’t count as a failure as we’d agreed in advance that we’d skip that part.  In advance being once we got to the car park… This poem was finally set to paper at the open mic night I attended, mostly because the other poet present had forgotten all of their work and so was writing something new and I felt that it was only fitting I do something new too.

 

Anyway, enjoy and I shall try my best to keep the scribblings coming!

 

Nothing’s Going to Stop Us
Nothing’s going to stop us,
We’ve made it here through floods and slush,
Though the car had to be pushed in to place.
 
Nothing’s going to stop us,
The (almost) mountain we must ascend,
Along paths buried in snow and molehills.
 
Nothing’s going to stop us,
Not even my shoe splitting after a mile,
Just bandage it up and press ever on.
 
Nothing’s going to stop us,
Though we may skip some extras,
Leave the track up the valley wall undisturbed.
 
Nothing’s going to stop us,
Even when the river replaces the path,
We’ll just find a way around or through.
 
Nothing’s going to stop us,
But the lack of tea gave us pause,
The tearooms are shuttered already.
 
Nothing’s going to stop us,
Now we must face it all again,
To return down the vale to our homes.
 
Nothing’s going to stop us,
The path has vanished ‘neath the floods,
And the mountain stands beside it.
 
Nothing’s going to stop us,
A sheer rock face we’ll traverse,
Clinging to the mud, roots and grass.
 
Nothing’s going to stop us,
Even a slip in to snow melt,
Pressing on towards our goal.
 
Nothing at all stopped us,
Floods, snow, mud, slush or downpours,
We made it all the way.
28/01/2013

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Lost for Words

Every Tuesday I play for my pool team.  However, for various reasons, I will often be rather early to matches, and find myself with an hour or two to kill.  This past Tuesday, I decided to take a drink and find a nice peaceful spot by the river and canal to write some new rhymes.  So I sat, and I doodled, and I sat some more and found myself at a complete loss… Which led to me noting down random thoughts and lines until this appeared.  Enjoy!

 

Lost for Words
Oh the irony of it all,
A poet lost for words.
So there’s nothing left to do,
But sit here spotting birds.
 
A wren or two are followed by,
Several wood pigeons so fat.
As the swans glide by I realise,
A rhyme was written just like that.
16/08/2011

 

 

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The River’s Way

It was quite a challenge to choose which of my rhymes to post first, I resorted to flicking through my little black book until I settled on one.  This poem was written when I was about 10/11 years old, and in 1998  it was actually published in an anthology, and again a couple of years later.  I think we’d been doing something on the water cycle that week at school, but I do remember writing it.  I was supposed to be doing something else, but was rather bored and this was the result:

The River’s Way
Splish, splash,
The rain splashes on the mountainside,
Trickling on its way.
 
Many more rivulets join it,
Running on faster and faster.
 
Now it is a stream,
Flowing freely on,
Thundering, roaring over a cliff.
 
Freely on it flows,
Calming as it goes,
Joining other streams.
 
Now the stream is in a lake,
Coming out as a river that rushes freely on.
 
Meandering on,
Twisting and turning free.
 
Now we reach the mouth,
All muddy and swift,
Bursting free in to the sea.
 
Becoming rain to start it all again.

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