Pop Goes the Weasel!
Pop Goes the Weasel!
A Buzzard calls and circles on the warm seasonal air – welcoming Beltane day,
the Songbirds form a choral guard of honour – in the greenery hidden away!
A Pheasant rumbles and rattles a traditional ode – a travelling solo of a song,
marble skies reaching outward in a sea of ripples – a moment in time to belong!
Crows and Ravens – they skirt their havens – cawing and cronking by and by,
manoeuvring their frames – they play their games – with all done on the fly!
Bees both bumble and a host of solitaries – sound their buzzers passing to and fro,
a symphony of movement – copious flying insects – briefly entertain as they come and go!
Calm is the day – the trees slow-dance a gentle sway – relaxing into the scene,
fluttering with leaves dressed in full regalia – fresh in their seasonal green!
A soundscape awash with multiple melodies – strumming the strings of the heart,
while outside extremities echo life’s happenstance – the threads all play their part!
Creative hands and minds they prepare a vision – a setting on a circular lawn,
slowly deliberate with an inner peace – to be left to smoulder and greet the dawn!
The lanterns are loaded – imagination exploded – finding the puzzle pieces to fit,
overcoming the obstacles with repetitive memories – sharing each and every bit!
Gathering wildflowers to offer up a posy – an annual adventure all in hand,
seeking out illumination in a collection of varieties – cast out across the land!
The Cuckoo of its namesake a distant call – a newcomer to the diary page,
with the chirp – chirp – chirp of the songbird beacon – repeating for an age!
I re-locate my composure and equilibrium – with an hour lying on the grass,
Glentaowen fulfils an original dream – and the Northern Pine finally comes to pass!
Nurtured carefully from a timely seedling – a Grove aged whisper of a plan,
a pipedream honoured with a Beltane spectacle – where nature bonds with man!
My shutdown recovery interrupted – with the falling of raindrops – kissing at my face,
time to retreat – taking the moment to place a seat – in a sheltered little place!
The reluctant escaping raindrops held at source – stopping before they start,
the sun shines through – highlighting each and every view – a total piece of art!
A return to normality reassures the spirit – clearing the focus from the haze,
the final touches find their footing on the seasonal stage – in traditional ways!
At the lantern lighting we find expression – taking both shape and form,
the windchimes silent – in a state of stillness – delighting in the warm!
Ceremonial celebrations bathe in the sun’s golden glow – within its fan of rays,
capturing the landscape in reverential tones – reserved for special days!
Sharing in a toast for the gift of seasons – the Hawthorn the star of the show,
Marking the time – of the sacred sublime – the sentimental secret we all know!
Following the ancestral path between the Beltane fires – we come unto a close,
A contented procession with a reassuring comfort – the magic how it flows!
The Cuckoo edges nearer to its audience – to define the sound of its call,
The Songbirds still singing – the peace they’re bringing – a voice for one and all!
We near the end of the day – as we tidy away – sharing in the moment of joy,
A time for reflection – on an aging connection – a life lived man and boy!
We retire to the door – like so many times before – with everything all agreed,
Pop goes the Weasel – from behind a tree – diving into the undergrowth at great speed!
