The Beguiling Barn Owl

it came into sight like a phantom at night
not the slightest of whispers was heard
its like shimmering lace with a heavenley face
such a stunningly beautifull bird
yet this swift gracefull ghost with its silent aproach
hides a secret abhorrant and dirty
its a killing machine thats both heartless and mean
that gets rid of its prey without mercy
in the war against vermin and crop eating pests
hes an ally of fabled renown
every good farmer knows that whenever he shows
he will keep the old enemy down
with his tallons kept sharp and his face like a heart
and his family thats waiting up late
be it blackbird or vole or a hare thats the goal
every target will share the same fate
with his razor sharp claws he disects and dismembers
each prize he takes back to his nest
when this silent assasin appears in the skies
theres no quarry or foe that can rest
he flies overhead and rewiews the farmstead 
with its  meadows and downs deep with snow
whith his charges well fed he returns to his bed
in the moonlight his wings seem to glow
any creature can hide a dispicable side
even one that looks spotless and chaste
our great beauty in flight seems a heavenly sight
then despatches its victims poste haste
so each reader beware and take consumate care
knowing beauty is only skin deep
it can rip out your heart and just tare it apart
then slip off in the night while you sleep
                        by LJM 28/12/2012

Old Harry A Dorset Legend

That face has took some beatings on that we all agree
Its dark and broody rugged features looking out to sea

The limpets look like blisters as they cling for dear life

Old Harry stands here all alone still mourning for his wife

 

He lost her in eighteen ninety six she collapsed into the sea

A raging storm just cut her off like some wartime amputee

It left a stump a reminder to which old Harry tries to cling

It shows itself at certain times when the tides fall right in spring

You hear the peal of ghostly bells when a raging storms severe

Some say it's a friendly visitor that old Harry once held dear

The locals say it's from a sunken ship with an unholy blasphemous crew

That were carrying bells for a church in Poole when their ship was broke in two

The wind cuts through St Lucas leap old Harry doesn't care

He still remembers days gone by when his wife was standing there

Old Harry still stands tall and proud alone and cold and free

He awaits the storm that will take him down to his wife beneath the sea

             

By LJM 01/03/2013

The Dark

an icy chill runs down my spine
and grips me like a vice
i cant explain this feeling
but it isnt very nice

it hangs about like thick  black smoke
just waiting still and silent
i know its got bad things in mind
i hope its nothing violent

the darkness utters not a word
it doesnt need to speak
it draws its victim to its web
by acting mild and meek

what is the darkness anyway
its got no substance right
it hides itself away all day
then scurries out at night

but when it comes i tighten up
i lie there stiff and stark
what can it do to me anyhow
its nothing its just dark

why do i get this feeling then
it happens every night
ide never get my beauty sleep
if i turned out that light
    by LJM 16/12/2012

Father Winter

father winter puffs his cheecks and blows an icy blast
the freezing ghale that whistles round reminds me of the past
when winters chilled me to the bone and made me want my bed
my duckdown feather filled patchwork quilt pulled up arround my head
as i lay snug and all tucked up the wind played out its tune
like a howling banshee in a rage by the light of the silvery moon
the fire thats roaring in the grate joins in this wintery song
as it spits its flames from its blazing coals and the chimney sings along
the kettle hanging o'r the fire its steaming spout sings loud
its like the last night of the proms and im feeling oh so proud
this tune is like a blessing sent from angels way on high
as i lie their in my comfy bed all cosy warm and dry
now father winter ups the pace with a raging storm of snow
the village is caught in an icy grip and the childrens faces glow
they wrap up warm with scarves and hats and boots lined thick with fur
and pull their sledges up the hill in a windswept snowy blur
im peeping through my curtains at this freezing winter scene
the village looks all bright and white and cold and crisp and clean
father winters work is done he heads off home at last
but he cant resist and he puffs his cheecks for one last icy blast
                                                    BY LJM 15/12/2012

The Robin

on the fence she sits so plump,her breast as red as embers
her feathers fluffed her eyes so bright,she loves theese cold novembers
as other birds stay in their nests awaiting summer days
the robin sings and chats and hops as in the snow she plays
she keeps me happy with her songs, through winters coldest time
her notes are shrill and charged with hope and often seem to rhyme
on branch or fence or teapot spout, she lands with such fine grace
she eyes a frozen spiders web that hangs like fine spun lace
looking for its host no doubt a much sought after snack
hes not at home hes on the hunt,but she knows that hell be back
she sets her sights on a coconut husk in the branches of a tree
she pecks and pulls with all her might till that white stuff comes free
shes not too keen on coconut but at least it filled a corner
a kestral circles overhead and the blackbirds screech to warn her
off she darts shes quick and nimmble bolting for the cover
the kestral knows hes missed a chance and he may not get another
among the ivy leaves she hides a dense and dark safe haven
the kestrals gone its beady eye set on a coal black raven
her tiny head peeps out the leaves her eyes alert and bright
the winters day draws to a close and ushers in the night
theres surely time for one last meal before the dark creeps in
she spots some rice and harricot beans in the snow beside the bin
she guards that banquet with her life her breast puffed out in warning
the nourishment in those beans and rice will sustain her till the morning
the meal is finished not a mo to soon and the gardens cloaked in dark
the crisp white snow offers guiding light as some dogs begin to bark
through a broken window she swoops with ease to the welcoming garden shed
in the rafters high awaits her nest and comforting feathery bed
                                               by LJM 29/11/2012.

The Private Performance

A carpet of bluebells so proud and so vivid
their beauty quite stunning and regal
they welcome each creature that enters the woods
the doormouse the squirell the eagle
they move like the sea with an ebb and a flow
as they dance with delight in the breeze
like an opera by verdi or motzart or tosca
they offer their dance to the trees
the stout mighty oak princley elm and sweet chestnut
all rustle their leaves in applause
the wise old tawny high up in the gods
pledges his twit ta woo to the cause
the dance moves at pace as they sway and they swoon
yet they keep perfect time all as one
then the breeze peters out and the sun shows his face
and as quick as it started its done
                                   by LJM
                                           24/11/2012

The Skylark

                                         
The skylark heralded the morning sun with a beautiful high pitched song
in the sweet green meadow grass down below his mate knew something was wrong
She was sharp And alert and ready for action when she heard him begin to sing
She left her nest and her clutch of eggs and was feigning a broken wing

She began to circle round and round heading away from her nest
Dragging her wing along the ground her performance a serious test
All of the time she was cautious and wary looking out for the imminent danger
Then all of a sudden a few feet away appeared a conspicuous stranger

A very tall man with a dog on a lead it was sniffing about on the ground
With her pitiful cry and her unbroken wing she was able to turn them around
She maneuvered the meddlers away from her nest the dog straining and pulling the man
When it got really close she shot up in the air having hatched her necessitous plan

She kept Plunging and swooping and goading the dog till the nest was a distance away
The dog started panting his tongue hanging out the man just looked on in dismay
She'd led them away from her treasured assemblage her cunning averting the danger
But She still hovered there and was fully aware of the dog and the very tall stranger