An Epiphany

Twas a few nights from Christmas
And all were in bed
Well almost all people
For so it is said
That three men on three camels
Rode the streets in the dark
Wearing crowns and their jimjams
As they rode to a park
Which to be honest would be normal
If it weren’t London town
So the camels afforded
A few scowls and few frowns
But the PJs raised no eyebrows
For no man and no mice
Turned their heads to gawp at them
For they were pleasant and nice

But the thing that was spooky
Was they’d come from afar
Carrying pots for a baby
Without GPS but a star
And then avoided the scrutiny
Of the Mi5
Who were completely oblivious
That a babe was alive
In a shed East of London
In Victoria Park
A babe with his mother
And step Dad in the dark
Where no questions had been asked
No investigation begun
No social services intervention
Surrounding this son

For though his parents declared
He was a King up on high
And that prophets foretold
He’d be murdered and die
Also claiming overtly
That the sky had been filled
With a whole host of angels
Who had sung they were thrilled
The assumption was simple
That it was all of a ruse
A story all made up
With nothing to loose
And thus none battered an eyelid
For it seemed too absurd
Or else they all had amnesia
Forgetting what they had heard

And so the men on their camels
In their jimjams and crowns
Arrived at the park
There in London town
Where they all paid homage
Gave their slightly odd gifts
In the back of a bike shed
Late on that night shift
Then they upped and departed
By the light of the star
But now in a Ferrari
Or other fast car
So that unhindered the story
Of Christmas could come true
To be told through the centuries
By both me and by you

And the camels – what happened
To each one of the three
Who went by the names
Of camel AB and C
For you might well be thinking
Were they ever seen
Again in the district
Near to Bethnal Green
Or did they disappear too
In the light of the moon
With no trace on their whereabouts
Anytime soon
But the answer my dear friends
Was they set up a pub
Serving great pie and mash
And other good grub

And so that is the story
An epiphany
Maybe not the one that
Is true history
But still a revelation
For truth, dare or lie
The wise men were once
Three kings or Magi
And be them there in London
Or in Bethlehem
That star still shines brightly
For you – not just them!
Right there twinkling daily
And is here to stay
A light in the darkness
Illuminating the way

  

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Driftwood

I saw a piece of driftwood
Upon a lonely shore
A piece of wood from somewhere else
Just one piece on the floor
And visualized the sailing boat
With sails so ruby red
That had once sailed on the high seas
Afore sinking to seabed

The boat that in her high day
Had cargo all aboard
From oriental ports and lands
That few could dare afford
That sailed the seas a-ferrying
These goods for richer men
With captain paid in golden bars
From Hong Kong and Phnom Peng

The boat with riches so untold
Yet legendary at best
With silken cloth and spices that
Would sell well in the West
That navigated distant seas
In squall and storm so well
Until the day disaster struck
That rang ship’s death toll bell

The day that pirates came aboard
To plunder for their own
The bootie that they pillaged and
With Captain overthrown
And shipmates hustled on the deck
Like animals in herd
They dared each man to walk the plank
With evilness absurd

And then when crew were dead and gone
They blew the boat sky high
To steal away their treasured loot
Their code; an eye for eye
And left the wreck a sinking down
In the pacific sea
The boat with riches so untold
Left as mythology

And now washed up on foreign shore
The boat in bits appears
As driftwood from the sunken wreck
Laps up year after year
As a reminder of the plight
Of ship with ruby sails
That sailed the oriental waves
As told in old folk tales

driftwood (Photo credit: Tom Gill.)

The Cornish Piskies

Watch out! Watch out! Watch wear you tread
For down on Daymer Lane
A clan of Piskies stand in wait
As bidden by their Thane
To create havoc playfully
Deter you from your way
And whisk you off to Bodmin Moor
Or to the hilltop Brea

All dressed in colours of the earth
In lichen, grass and moss
Their cheerfulness and spritely mood
Will trick your mind and cross
Your path without a second thought
In fairy dust confused
To leave you, traveller, wandering
All lost and not bemused

And yet these souls of children lost
Wish each and everyone
No trouble nor no wanton harm
Just mischief and some fun
And some they’ll even help and aid
Their succour to impart
To the infirm and elderly
They show their loving heart

So be aware and be so wise
For Piskies small and bright
As Cornish fairies or brownies
Resembling the sprites
Dance in the waysides, midst the gorse
Down by the lapping shore
Intent on their shenanigans
Their high jinks and much more

 

Elephants’ Charm

A still parade of elephants
All facing to the door
Guarding the room; the space affront
From all things bad and more

These pachyderms a-bringing folk
Pure happiness and bliss
With opulence, prosperity
By superstition’s kiss

To teach commitment, gentleness
Communication too
Such symbols of shear strength and power
A great revered sinew

A still parade of elephants
All facing to the door
Guarding the room; the space affront
From now as heretofore

The Dodo’s Legacy

How know you that the dodo lived
That bird now gone from earth
That strutted fields and foreign realms
And of Mauritian birth

The bird that now is so extinct
It will not tweet anew
That walked so free in time gone by
Now disappeared from view

And yet that lesson still not learnt
As animals demise
From weaponry of human greed
Consumed before our eyes

So save this ball on that we spin
Through space and galaxies
Safeguarding all endangered lives
Protect all rare species

For let our children not grow old
To only recollect
From books the pictures of wildlife
They’ll otherwise forget

And steadfastly let creeds be drawn
Save beasts to roam so free
To walk the world for we must learn
The Dodo’s legacy

Dodo reconstruction (Raphus cucullatus) reflecting new research at Oxford University Museum of Natural History (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The Humpback Whale

I rode a silver humpback whale
Across the open sea
With songs of pure delight that rang
Out loud with great beauty

With fluke that pushed us through the waves
Propelling with such might
Whilst breaching to the highest skies
And splash of sheer delight

My humpback whale swan on and on
From pole to midline sure
Accompanied with other kin
Who joined in on the tour

On migrant trip from north to south
With me set on his back
To see the warmer ocean tides
To feed; to keep on track

Such splendour and wonder inspired
Majestically he went
The humpback whale cross ocean’s grand
And me; a maid of Kent

And all the while he sang and sung
With moans, and howls and cries
Cross waters auditorium
Repeating his reprise

To herald all from far and wide
To see; behold his power
The silver humpback whale that swam
And sung for hour on hour

A Humpback whale (Megaptera novaeangliae), a member of order Cetacea (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The Lincoln Imp

There’s a wind up on the hill top
A breeze of fortitude
So said, the spirit of an imp
With manners rather rude
For it is told two imps arrived
To Lincoln’s town and heart
With nothing more than impishness
And trouble to impart

For so is said in ancient rune
That when these imps appeared
At Lincoln’s mighty minster gate
They upset bishop’s beard
With all their antics and mischief
It’s said they caused a stir
Disrupting all within their path
With trouble to concur

And even though an angel came
And turned one into stone
It’s said the other slipped her spell
And whistles all alone
Around the minsters outer walls
Up to this very day
In search of Lincoln’s imp who’s there
And cast in rock to stay

Lincoln Imp (Photo credit: Wikipedia)