I listen around, easily scare I'm just a lonely, little hare You sit there, so full of luck You can fly, being a duck Yes, in any weather We just spread our feather Finding out track By sounding our quack I'm fast to outrun The man with a gun I'm in a special class Expert to hide in grass But how do you escape the hunter? Oh, we just duck!
Wishing you a happy weekend. Ha de Gött!
Crazy old Ram McMutton Built an empire out of cotton Was a bit of a fool Better to set up in wool In despair began to weep Lost his flock, the sheep Went to competitor mr Wolf Now graze on meadows for golf Managed by a speckled beagle Clear from people hitting an eagle His wife, the lovely Ewe Stops this poem now, leave
Was not sure if I should press Publish or Delete but I guess I’m fearless today. Ha de Gött!
Tire, down flat Tire, with holes Tire, displaced Tire, rubber ring Tire, worn out Tire, left to rot Tire,d to be used as dumping ground
We should be kinder to Mother Nature. Ha de Gött!
You say I'm full of it Now enough, I quit Sat on my bench Spread your stench Flies buzzing around You just making sound Reading all the paper Then reused it later Now forever this is halted By nature I am bolted
Today I came across an abandoned house and this outhouse. I just start to write and see where the words take me. Perhaps I need to see somebody… Got to go, ha de Gött!
Reflecting scrap stone Put there long ago Sharp and cracked Past and present frame Ice braking up Melting in the sun Spring is coming Jack Frost yields But not without a fight
Ha de Gött!
Soaring up high Free in the sky Detached from ground Watching for prey Elegantly upwind find Scanning ground Food or threat Free or just hungry Dinner chased away I wish I could fly She wish she could eat
This common buzzard (Buteo buteo) and its mate flies over me several times when walking in nature. To spite me they stay in the sun or behind trees so I can’t get a clear shot. This time I managed to get this okay shot of this fantastic bird.
Ha de Gött!
Like little soldiers Lances held high Marching over branches Flags flying in wind Every branch conquered By this army of green
