A Serenade for Spring

A Serenade for Spring

 

Were the colours ever so glorious as this Spring?

Bird song never seemed so loud, so fresh, so close.

The very heavens have cleared, the air is pure, again.

 

Again?  When were the skies ever so clear for so long?

Never in my memory.  Everywhere Nature explodes

in our very faces, assailing all our awakened senses.

 

By the roadsides the pale primrose proudly asserts

herself, free from all the fumes of passing traffic,

even the badger thrives, road kill abounds no more.

 

Down in the quiet harbour a cormorant fished

undisturbed, unseen but by ourselves and the gulls.

An old neighbour called out from her doorway,

“It’s like someone stole away all the people.”

Real Men Eat Quiche

Real men eat quiche, (love peace).

 

Gorbachev, Botha, Nelson Mandela,

Hume, Adams and David Trimble, for peace

sake would risk it all in one great gamble.

 

In these sad times others choose war, midgets

becoming mighty men in their own eyes

distracting their own with blatant lies.

 

Leaning hard until an old neighbour falls

to bully and bluster is all they know,

proving to themselves they have big balls.