Tottenham fans have had to yearn
For the prodigal's return.
At last! That long-forgotten phrase -
"Bale is out for 30 days".
#TOTSOU#TottenhamHotspur#COYS
These cows, it seems, have got it made.
I like the way they think.
Hot sunny days spent in the shade,
And a pint or two to drink.
#EppingForest#cows#poetry#Cattle#Drinking
Moors or coastline? Can’t chose which.
I guess I’m fifty fifty.
I know I like my landscape rich
But I like my coast path Thrifty.
#Dorset#Poetry#coast#Flowers
Springtime paints the brightest scene -
A million different shades of green.
Emerald, jade, mint, olive, lime –
I’d list them all but I don’t have time.
#EppingForest#Spring2019#poetry#trees
Here’s a heron’s diary.
(Sounds a little drab to me).
Monday – stood beside a lake.
Rest of week – stood by a lake.
Weekend – time to have a break.
Think I’ll stand beside a lake.
#EppingForest#poetry#birds
Tis strange that in the darkest night
The moon doth shine its brightest light.
Just so, through springtime's dreary gloom,
Doth blossom fair most brightly bloom.
#poetry
Excuse my French, but flipping hell!
Sky won't show the IPL.
They'll take my money all the same.
They just won't show a single game.
@SkyCricket#IPL2019#Cricket
I’m sorry but no verse today:
My rhyming muse is all but lost.
Alas, I had so much to say
But nothing seems to rhyme with ‘frost’.
#EppingForest#poetry#frost#Winterwatch
Alan Smith, Alan Smith,
Your expertise is just a myth.
You're boring and you're biased, to boot.
You're why I've got Sky Sports on mute.
#COYS#CHETOT#THFC
The Forest’s a winter wonderland,
Dusted by Jack Frost’s frozen hand.
And why are there no avalanches?
‘Cos the snow is caught by branches.
#EppingForest#snowday#poetry#snowuk
Near High Beach there’s a little stream
Where oft I stand, perchance to dream.
But clogged by leaves, it cannot run.
Like me, its running days are done.
#EppingForest#poetry#POEMS
Hurrah! Hooray!
It’s Boxing Day,
Although it’s somewhat murky.
We’ve had our feast
So now, at least,
There’s no more flipping turkey.
#EppingForest#BoxingDay#Poetry#forests
A monster crawling through the trees,
Felled by winter’s brutal breeze:
Do you lurk and lie in wait
For those who cannot navigate?
#EppingForest#poetry#trees
The beech tree hides its glossy roots
‘Neath fallen leaves and mossy boots.
Its branches though are bare and stark –
It needs a jumper for its bark.
#EppingForest#poetry#winter#trees
@guardianletters All this talk of Foakes and Stokes
(And reselecting good old Woakes)
Gives rise to far too many jokes.
Best to call the whole team "Blokes"