A peaceful Christmas
All the best for the New Year
Keep safe 'til we meet

Touch of ground frost this morning
First of the season

All my wrinkles will be gone
when I'm dead
Peaceful
free from worry
warm at last

Surgery soon they say
Will I have to pay?
Been paying for a lifetime
to live another day
Could be next month or later
Eighteen weeks or less
they say

I  was  only  with  you  for  one  short  week.
We  met  up on  the  plane.

We  were  off  to  Turkey
To  see  the  battlefields.

You  were  a  lovely  lady
And  we  were  together  all  week.

I  often  think  of  you  now
Although  we  were  together  for  such  a  short  time.

When  we  arrived  home  at  the  airport
You  melted  away  into  the  crowd.

And  I  never  saw  you  again.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

I got a brand new
ebony black
walking stick
I walked two miles with it
on Monday
It's good on dry land
or wet
The tapping sound
gives you confidence
and you don't think you will fall

John the postman
is a cheerful chap
although
he once hurt his back

He brings the mail
dead on time
whether it's wet
or whether it's fine

He trundles along
in his little red van
and he's always there
to help if he can

The old barn owl was on the wing
in line with the moon's shadow

I followed without a whisper
until he settled, in a nearby tree

Keith.
Keith the gardener, Keith the poet,
Keith with the infectious smile, Keith with the load of worries,
Keith of the lost loves, Keith of the quirky turn of phrase,
Keith who could always come up with a title -
Keith, we shall remember you well.
Hugs all round,
Janet

But  I  can  sit  and  dream  a  while.
About  her  and  her  perfect  smile.
Yes  I  can  see  her  in  my  dreams.
And  watch  her  dance  among  moonbeams.
Her  golden  silken  hair  all  free.
And  then  she  comes  and  walks  by  me.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.2016.

It's a dull dark morning
not a bit like May

People say
"You are not eating properly"
We don't say that to the birds
Do we?

Woke  early  this  morning, to  early.
The  rain  thundering  down  outside.
Water  gushing  down  drains  at  some  speed.
Neighbors  still  in  bed.
Just  hope  the  floods  keep  away.
Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK  2016.



.

It's a dull dark dank
November morning
Flowers dying back
It looks like the onset of winter

Remembering the fallen
from France to the middle East
Red poppies and crosses
are all that we see

I saw the deer early morning
in our communal garden
Tried to get some photos
But she kept disappearing
into the shady glen of the large trees
She seemed to come from the park
along the busy main road

March is coming
quietly
a bit foggy
but still dry

Not  so  much  a  pitter-pattering.
But  a  downpour,the  rain  here.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere. UK. 2016.

Quite a lot of snow this week
dressing the trees
in lovely fashion
like an old Christmas card
Birds seem to be struggling a bit
in the harsh weather
The winter life of a bird
is hard

It's a close muggy morning
with a little rain about

The Azalias
have been wonderful
this year
They don't like it too hot

The  weather  very  hot.
Like  standing  over  a  melting  ***.

The  gardens  oh  so  dry
suffering  under  a  cloudless  sky.

The  English  Lakes.
Warmest  place  in  Britain.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2018.

The birds are flocking together
looking for a mate wherever
looking to build nests
then they can sit and rest
Soon they will have new chicks
then they’ll be chuffed to bits
Soon the chicks will fly away
and will be saying a goodbye to go to stay
It’s the same for us humans, you see
our families grow up and flee

British Summer Time

British summer time has begun
Clock’s gone forward forward one hour
It’s supposed to create more daylight
They won’t have to go to school in the dark
I remember during the second world war
putting them forward two hours
I keep one clock on the old time
and one on the new
and go by the sun

The jackdaws
are noisy
today
They like to rule the roost

The pigeons out in the open
taking a big risk
with sparrowhawks all around

seconds  tick  and  seconds  go.
tell  me  where  for  I  don't  know.
I  call  to  them  don't  go  so  fast.
but  they  continue  racing  past.
one  day  they'll  stop  for  me  alone  
and  then  ill  know  where  seconds  go.
keith Wilson 2015.

It's sad to say
that Keith's writing skills
of which there were many
have passed away
No more little tales
stories
and poems
So many differents parts of his life
to enjoy, and enjoy
like being a 'Gardener'
falling into hedges
without knowing why
Bless him, wherever he may be

10  WORDS.

I  live  in  Wordsworth  country.
Near  Grasmere,  the  Lake  District.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

The roses are beautiful
this year
with all the dry weather
The daisies lift their smiling faces
to the afternoon sun
Most blossoms are fine and healthy
with there being less wind
At last
we are having summer

Is it a jumble of words
or a Haiku?
It could be a villanelle
or just plain verse
Perhaps it’s a ten-word poem
or a short short
It could be a short story
or the start of a novel
Does it have to rhyme?
Anyway
poetry seems very popular
for reader and writer

WHAT IS A POEM?

Would we get away with anything?
I don't think so
we are all quite creative

John
was a professional
pick-pocket
locally known as 'The Dip'
He frequented
commuter trains
and outside markets
to ply his trade:
"Successful morning today
"I collected two-hundred pounds
and now I'm on my way"

Two baby squirrels
bathing in the water fountain
in the early morning
Nature has its own way of keeping clean
then they ran off looking for food

All is well and comes to an end
The daylight into night transcends
The stars and moon replace the sun
Birds and animals cease to run
But rivers, babbling brooks and streams
Continue on as do men's dreams

Keith   Wilson

The large garden daisies
are looking very well
Quite a picture!

People keep telling me
to get a stick
I don't want one stick
or two sticks
I'd rather fall over
and start again

It's a stormy March morning
with gale force winds
and periods of rain
The early tulips
are taking a battering
but the azealias are standing up well

The Birthwaite Bards
Are we clever?
Or is it all in the mind?
People seem to like it online
but little response by the locals

My  friend  Sean  is  fed  up  with  the  British  peoples.
Obsession  about  the  weather.

Is  it  wet.  Is  it  fine.  Is  it   windy.
Could  be  frosty  or  even  snow.
But  generally  its  heavy  rain.

I  don't  mind  to  much.
I  was  in  Egypt,  where  the  weather  is  always  the  same.
Day  in.  Day  out.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

What is common land?
Owned by few
or an organisation
Permission to graze cattle
and the use of public footpaths
Not sure about tents and camping
One may need to ask some where
Boundaries by wall or fencing
I'd say a park is common land
you are allowed in it but don't own it

Death of my favorite Ash tree
Three men came and cut it down
with ropes and pulleys
they risked life and limb
A perfectly healthy tree
What is going on?
It has changed my view completely

Live in the moment meditations
Lose yourself in decorative doodling

It's all mind games
You sit there
and say
you can't do it
to your self
but when
someone says you can do it
you can
Can't you?

Some windows open
some windows shut
some windows slanting
some in the sunlight
some in the shade
standing out
against a white wall
A poem in a minute

Its a cold dark May morning
Much cooler today
Blossoms
are quickly
disappearing
with the overnight rain
Pink petals blown into drifts
Bluebells are in their prime

The storm was raging
Unsubtle changes!
The circumference of the area
was lit up by lightning
flashing down
in the blink of an eye.
All the birds were clustered together
It was quite scary

She  looks  through  me.
Never  seeing  the  love  I'm  feeling  for  her.
She  is  tall  and  slim.
With  hair  of  sun.
Her  face  perfection.
Skin  of  rare  complexion  
That  mouth  unique.
That  will  never  speak  to  me.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK  2016.

Its a beautiful spring morning
all the blossoms
standing out
against the clear blue sky
Birds are mating up
and building nests
No sign of rain

The old cricket pavilion
in the village playing fields
eighty-one years ago
was in a very dilapidated state
We played in it for hours
It had a drop-down front
for the scorers of the match
and also a lean-to shed
locked-up
with all the tools and cricket gear
I often wonder
when it was taken down
It probably fell down
on it's own
Happy days!

The tale of the desert is uncovered
in 'The Oval Heart' film