Poetry page

Butterfly Morning

Woke up to one of those mornings With the sun, flowing like honey, Almost sweeping you out of bed, Through the various fonctional rooms To breakfast in the garden And buddleias already clustered With Peacocks, Commas and Speckled Woods.

Then a sweet siren voice Tells you to leave the washing up, Keep the post far another time And take a ride on a bus, One of those long distance buses That actually welcomes you aboard, With air conditioning and reclining seats.

So let's go far it now. I know a cheap little caft, Hugging the beach, Where we can look out For Painted Ladies, Clouded Yellows, Drifting in on a sky As blue as Adonis wings ..... .

And then the phone rings.

Richard Stewart

The Duke of Denge Wood

(£1 Cautionary Tale!)

A group of determined naturalists Set out far Bonsai Bank Intent on meeting the Burgundy Duke And others of lesser rank.

The day was warm and beautiful The orchids a delight The Duke and his lady were duly acclaimed As were others on the site.

The Burgundy Babes were sought and found Like pearls in their Primrose nest They were fated, photographed, then left alone Cradled within the forest.

But all was not as it should have been In this wonderful woodland dell As a seeker was attacked by who knows what? And later became unwell.

With swollen arm all stripy and red Medical help, later sought Antibiotics now, the doctor said, And worse if it comes to nought.

It would seem that the cause of the trouble Was probably, Wood Spurge disguised By cut stems which mingled with others Their danger not realised.

Treat all in the wild with care and respect For it may sting, bite or tear you But euphorbia sap, and maybe dry stems, With help ftom the sun will burn you!

Rosalind Foster (The victim!)