Tag Archives: poem
Lightning, Thunder, and Rain … at Last!
I know it’s been dry and you want it to rain,
But I saw a flash in the sky,
You tell me it’s safe and it won’t cause me pain,
But take me inside where it’s dry.
I heard a loud boom and a rumbling growl,
It sounds pretty scary to me,
I’m trying my best not to let loose and howl,
To be what you want me to be.
What flashes of light and that fierce rumbling boom,
My courage is fading so fast,
Let’s sit on the couch, just move over, make room,
We’ll snuggle until it is past.
Watering
I’d found a perfect hiding place,
With flowers all of gold,
It sheltered, and provided snacks,
And kept me from the cold.
I slept there cozy, safe, and warm,
For breakfast there were bugs,
It once was so idyllic ’til
The dreaded water jugs.
The lady said, “A drink for you!”
And poured a deluge down,
The gush of water covered me,
I dashed out with a frown.
“Chipchip! Chipchip!” I scolded her,
At least she looked contrite,
And yet I felt I had to shout
And stand up for my right.
She’s done this to me two times now,
Perhaps she didn’t know,
But now that I’m the cleanest bird,
It’s probably time to go.
The Spider and the Fly
Mary Howitt lived from 1799 to 1888. Her poem, The Spider and the Fly, was first published in 1829, almost 200 years ago.
The first line of the poem – “Will you walk into my parlour?” said the spider to the fly – is often misquoted, and you may have heard people say, “‘Come into my parlour,’ said the spider to the fly.” It is used to show that someone is trying to tempt another to do something they probably shouldn’t do.
In her poem, which is about seven stanzas long, the spider tries to lure the fly into coming into her trap. I’ve quoted some parts and paraphrased others.
#1 Spider: Will you walk into my parlour … up a winding stair.
Fly: Oh, no, no … For who goes up your winding stair can ne’er come down again.
#2 Spider: I’m sure you must be weary, dear. Will you rest upon my little bed?
Fly: Oh, no, no … They never, never wake again, who sleep upon your bed.
#3 Spider: I have within my pantry good store of all that’s nice;
I’m sure you’re very welcome; will you please to take a slice?
Fly: I’ve heard what’s in your pantry, and I do not wish to see.
#4 Spider: I have a little looking-glass upon my parlor shelf,
If you’ll step in one moment, dear, you shall behold yourself.
Fly: I thank you, gentle sir,” she said, “for what you’re pleased to say,
And bidding you good-morning now, I’ll call another day.”
#5 Spider: He wove a subtle web, in a little corner sly,
And set his table ready to dine upon the fly.
(Then he said all kinds of flattering things to the fly, until the fly couldn’t resist).
Fly: She came nearer and nearer, listening to the flattery, thinking of how pretty she was.
And then: Up jumped the cunning spider, and fiercely held her fast.
He dragged her up his winding stair, into his dismal den,
Within his little parlor; but she ne’er came out again!
The lesson is basically, “Don’t fall for flattery,” or you might end up like this fly that was caught by a spider on my living room window yesterday.
Epilogue: (Apologies for no proper poetic meter.)
The fly was sucked dry.
The spider had her inside ‘er.
She was dropped on the sill, my dog ate her at will.
The spider returned to the scene of the crime, and Anneli smashed her and turned her to slime.
Some regret did I feel, but it had one last meal.
A Glimpse of May
Scotch broom is considered invasive because it crowds out other plants, but it provides shelter for many birds who can hide in its thick growth. Bees love it too.
It makes a background for puppy poses. Here is our springer spaniel, Ruby, when she was a pup.
The irises are having a little chin wag.
Miss Bossie runs the meetings.
Other members of the community listen in.
The columbines provide a slurpy snack for the hummingbirds, who then zoom off to spread the word that spring is really and truly here.
Precious first flowers
That bloomed after showers
Are chatting and preening all day.
Puppies roll over
As if they’re in clover,
Now spring has come, why don’t we play?
Hummingbirds sipping,
They fly away dipping
And buzzing, “Hurrah, now it’s May!”
Adventure Playground
Oh, my goodness! See that woodpile,
I’ll explore it quite a long while,
Please don’t stack it. Let it stay ’round,
It’s my own Adventure Playground.
Sweet the smell of new cut firewood,
Forest fir, a fragrance so good,
Freshens up my furry coating,
“I’m so special,” I’ll be gloating.
Now the truck has left at last,
I’ll explore and have a blast,
Careful though, the wood may slide,
And I could get stuck inside.
So much wood to climb up on,
I can duck in and be gone,
Just in case the heavens rained,
Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
The Lion Roars
March will come in like a lion, but who told that lion to keep on roaring? Enough, already!
And here I thought yesterday was bad. It snowed all night and is still snowing. Poor little birds. I hope they can find shelter under the hedges and can survive on the birdseed and suet I’ve put out. The good thing is that under the hedges, they can find bare ground, possibly with a few bugs to supplement the birdseed.
The next danger for the birds comes from the cascades of thawing snow clumps as they slide off the trees and shrubs.
Lionlike, the snow moves in,
Though it’s March and springlike,
Swirling snowflakes drift and spin,
Leo acting kinglike.
Where’s my lambie, bringing warmth?
Cowering, I’m sure,
Waiting till the time is right,
Meanwhile, he’ll endure.
No Crowds for Me
Just when we got settled, away from the gun,
Along comes this dog, for an innocent run.
“He can’t catch us all,” says an old duck so wise,
“But what if it’s me and it means my demise?”
“Most likely it won’t be, so fear not,” I say,
“Fly up in the air if you’re chicken, and pray.
I plan to stay calm and not show him my fear.”
“In that case I’ll be brave beside you, my dear.”
But flying en masse is not what I prefer,
Wherever I turn, someone tries to deter
My flight path to safety, to freedom, and air.
I’m blocked by the crowds madly flapping up there.
Ah, this is more like it, with just a few friends,
We pick and we scrounge for a few odds and ends,
We don’t crash together in each other’s space,
A wonderful, so much more leisurely pace.
***** If you have spare time on your hands, why not visit my other blog, annelisplace.wordpress.com/
A Precious New Day
Red-breasted Sapsucker
Air is cold, I’m shivering,
Legs so skinny, quivering,
Ants or beetles, if you’re near,
Eating you would bring me cheer.
Not much sap is dripping down,
Though I’ve drilled holes all around,
Maybe though, an ant will scurry,
Running off in such a hurry.
I’ve no chocolate to coat it,
Nature simply won’t promote it,
But the crunchy flavour’s good,
With a hint of fir tree wood.
Watch me skipping round the tree,
Eating ants and bugs with glee,
Little holes, the bark endures,
Graciously, my meal ensures.
I apologize for the background noise of dogs barking and garbage trucks backing up somewhere in the world outside my own little world.






























