THE GIANT ATTRACTION
In captivity panda’s suffer
Great indignity
They’re sexual failures
On display for all to see
PANDERING
The Giant Panda
To some extent
Is the architect
Of its predicament
Its choice of habitat
And fussy diet
Contributes greatly
To its demise, I regret
NIGHT OWL
The graceful owl
Hunts at twilight
And listens to hear
A victim in the night
Then swoops down
In silent flight
Not to prevent
Its prey taking fright
But fear of losing
What is out of sight
SYMPHONIC NATURE
Nature fills the world with sound
An infinite orchestra free to air
The wind can caress the trees
Rustling the leaves gently
Or make them beat like a tambourine
It can whistle through canyons
And talk in the high grass
Then add the percussion of distant thunder
Water tumbling down stream
Waves crashing on a rocky shore
And rain falling on a leafy canopy
Then a chorus made up from every creature
The bird world, myriad in variety
From humming bird to nightingale
To rooks and crows
And then the insects from
Rhythmic crickets to buzzing bees
And animal kind contribute
Howling hounds, roaring big cats
Trumpeting elephants and squeaking mice
And when the elements really get going
They can bring the house down
WIND
Wind is a wonderful thing
Invisibly it makes the leaves dance
And trees gyrate as if shaken
By an invisible hand
Water is pushed before it
Rain and snow are driven by it
It ripples through cornfields
Whispers in the grass
It whistles through canyons
Whines like a tortured spirit
Or scream like a banshee
It is a fickle force
It can be silent like a mouse
Or roar like a lion
Its gentleness can caress your cheek
Its awesome power
Can toss you like a rag doll
Or snap you like a twig
Its power is to be respected
It’s uncompromising and indiscriminate
A force to be reckoned with
Whether from the frozen north
Or a bitter easterly
A stormy westerly
Or a vengeful tempest from the south
PASSING BY
Way up high
In the sky
Clouds pass by
I wonder why
On a bright day
Some might say
I see the milky way
Indeed they may
Way up then
Near to heaven
I shall know when
Clouds pass again
BARK
Their whole life
Is etched into the bark
The trunks wear their story
To be read with the eye
Or touched like brail
Cracked and weathered
Like the face of an old mariner
Showing what was
And what is still
It protects like a pachyderm’s hide
Its the first line of defence
Against any aggressor
Then when the tree falls
It’s the last to die
