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Of Course I Do, Yes Of course I sympathize with Greta T's Frustration—blah, blah, blah is all she hears! Can talking fix COP26? Well, Jeez! Old leaders have just talked for thirty years, Unwilling to take action, so our youth Rebel ... It isn't helpful, though, to be So keen to vandalize—I wish, in truth, Extinction R would take their cues from me: I drive a car that runs on wine and cheese, Desist from meat and fish two days a week, Off dairy stay another day, plant trees Year round, and get some hydro from my creek ... Expect no comment, though, on Boris J— Since I'd regret, when king, what I might say! (Prompted by this article and first published in Light on October 18, 2021 as one of the Poems of the Week) |
The Bird In A Bush Throughout the lore of English countryside, Home topiary's an art that has been prized— Except by one whose eyes were mortified By what a green-thumbed gardener devised In Warwickshire: a middle-finger shrub Raised 10 feet high to flip the bird, in jest, Directly opposite a village pub In Warton. For two decades, it impressed. Now someone wants to kill the goose that laid A golden egg—more tourists at the inn— By chopping down the shrub. So calls were made Upon the gardener. But he won't bin Street art he's groomed for decades as a joke— His bush still flips the bird at prudish folk! (Prompted by this article and first published in the New Verse News on November 3, 2021) |
A Romp In The City A once polluted isle where trees were few Reforested and minimized its rate Of bay pollution. Greater green and blue Made Singapore the garden city state. Pollution meant no otter romps. Today, In Singapore, they roam the city streets. No fishpond's safe when owners are away: The otter is not coy—koi's what it eats! Home owners losing koi may be displeased. Ecologists, however, are beguiled: Concern for wildlife would be greatly eased If city life could coexist with wild ... To keep your koi from otters isn't hard— You just erect high walls around your yard! (First published in Current Conservation on 17th October, 2022 with illustrations by Megha Vinod. Story here) |
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Classic Con Game Come listen to the news from my red box: Low-income earners, you will soon regain A third of what last month's reduction docks Since, as your Chancellor, I feel your pain— So what if my wife's richer than the Queen? If you're a climate activist ... well, I Cut taxes on domestic flights. That's green— COP26 is cheaper now to fly Off to! ... Prosecco drinkers, you will see New tax relief—though if you're jobless, you Get no more cash. But optimism's free, And you'll get lots from me, from Boris too ... My boss distracts, your pocket's what I pick— Exchequers play your classic con-game trick! (Prompted by this article and first published in Light on November 1, 2021 as one of the Poems of the Week) |
Halloween Haunt Heathrow is where a witch will hitch a ride At dusk on Halloween. She'll leave the ground Laid flat beneath a jumbo's underside— Latched safely to the plane, she's Boston-bound. On Halloween, this witch, whose children fled West long ago to haunt the States at night, Embarks upon a trip that she'd find dead Exhausting if she used her broom all flight. Nocturnal pilots have no means to see Her broom and she are stowed below the rear And flying to America for free— Until they land, and then she does appear, Not one bit weary, whizzing through the air To greet her waiting grandkids with a scare! (First published on October 31, 2021 in the Creativity Webzine. Reprinted in the Ekphrastic Review on 1st November, 2024 as a response to The Old Hall by John Anster Fitzgerald) |
Do As I Say And Not ... Do as I say and not as I once said: Old Daily Telegraphs record my sneers At crusties—which I hope you haven't read, Since I've now U-turned over climate fears! In doomsday terms, it's almost midnight now. So bike or walk, ride trains, ditch coal, don't tilt At windmill power. Eat more vegan chow— You must unstitch our suffocating quilt At once, or stand no chance of racing to Net zero well before it's far too late! ... Do as I say and not as I can do: No train can get me to my dinner date On time. So I will fly—and you will see That rules I make do not apply to me! (Prompted by this article and first published in Light on November 8, 2021 as one of the Poems of the Week) |