Early Bird

Witness Archaeopteryx that flew across the blue,
Gliding Archaeopteryx, a bird and reptile too.

Soared above the empire of Tyrannosaurus Rex
When Jurassic jungles seethed and life began to flex.

Prehistoric, it possessed a lizard's pointed tail,
Teeth sharp and reptilian but like the nightingale

It contained a wishbone causing something of a shock,
Evolution's missing link, part of a special flock.

Eighteen sixty-one we humans very first observed
Fossilized within the lime, exquisitely preserved

Bones revealing unforeseen transitions in a beast,
Two opposed anomalies were evident at least.

Showing how the dinosaurs had more than armoured might,
Showing how they left the land and instigated flight.

Proudly on the crossroads perched the Archaeopteryx,
Early bird of paradise, a fascinating mix.


©

Ahhh yes! That takes me back.

It's too darn hot.

Jurassic conditions Biz I prefer this to last summer's constant rain

I'd love some gentle rain from heaven upon the earth beneath.

Apparently the heatwave's going to last to the end of July at least I've been piecing together another epic. It's a re-write of a poem that got deleted in America and sadly that was the only copy at the time

I saw it fly across the sky

Sometimes I stop and wonder why
Then sit a while recalling;
I saw it fly across the sky,
A spear of orange falling.

I thought a meteor had passed
But let me be quite candid:
The way it turned, that sort of blast,
I knew no rock had landed.

I led my dog, whose name is Kip
Through regions thickly-wooded,
The brightness of our daily trip
By dusk would soon be hooded.

Though sure an object hot as sun
Had earlier descended
Smoke, flames and damage there were none,
The trees, as ever splendid.

Kip ran ahead, excitement plain
Whenever space was nearing;
Beside the stream we left the lane
Then found his favourite clearing.

Some way off loomed a single yew,
The tree I had expected
And yet amid the routine view
The unreal I detected.

Against the forest camouflaged
Moved two unearthly creatures,
The air was still and tension-charged
As I absorbed their features.

Scales shone and eyes of purple gleamed,
The visitors were searching,
In total shock this witness deemed
Those strangers were researching.

They knelt and studied our world's ground,
Reptilian yet prudent,
Green-fleshed, they poked and peered around,
Each seemed an eager student.

Kip growled and then he left my side,
Charged at them barking nervous,
Before I had a chance to hide
They stood up to observe us.

One spat and as the monsters looked
With faces cold and cunning,
One beckoned with long fingers hooked
But Kip retreated, running.

We fled and our departure made
Adrenaline in gallons,
Back home I locked the door and prayed,
In fear of vicious talons.

An hour passed, I sweated tense
Till engines started roaring;
Above the cottage that immense
Machine from space went soaring.

I saw it fly across the sky,
The night I shunned bed-covers
For coffee, Kip and thoughts of my
Encounter with the others.


©

Ahhh, we live and learn.

I'm counting the days till the end of July.


Brrrrr - who knows when they'll be back - and why......shiver

A couple of days ago on a long walk with a friend something very odd happened Biz. We came to a clearing in a wood just like the one I imagined in the poem. She had her dog with her and it was near dusk too That's what inspired me to polish up and re-post I saw it fly.

Yes. Never liked it.

Sorry?

A good job you weren't on your own, A companion, especially with a dog, is a good idea near dusk in a wood.

At first I thought poor Michelle had lost her way and posted in the wrong thread, and then I realized........I feel sad for her.

And perfectly polished it is too. I really enjoyed that one. Thanks again.

Zombies don't like poetry
They're dead, but in a daze.
Whatever's said is totally
unlikely to amaze.

One day, if they're lucky,
they may wake up alive
and notice all the mystery
of that in which we thrive.

I still don't understand her post


Thanks John Great zombie write - I guess they wouldn't like poetry much I like the second verse and how it gives a bit of hope for them

Hang on - I think Michelle meant yes, poetry's dead and she doesn't like it I don't like maths but I wouldn't say it was dead

Spot on John.


By jove, you've got it. It helps to sleep on it doesn't it.

I agree, it's still too darn hot.

I thought she was referring to another thread and replied to this one by mistake.

Interesting observations Musty, the only thing I have wondered about are frisbees, they fly about alot in the summer.

Agreed Biz It took me a while to figure that post out


Indeed Sandy - and they're shaped like saucers

Ghosts of Cowboys

Fugitives can never rest
From the law that chases,
Phantoms of the vanished west
In forgotten places.

Wanted, making his last stand
Flees the desperado,
From the rushing Rio Grande
Up to Colorado.

Jesse James and his old gang
Linger where they boasted,
Here the angry pistols rang;
Here the killers coasted.

One horse town, a dead-end deal,
Whiskey sweet as nectar,
Visions of the Kid reveal
Billy is a spectre.

Bars and brothels lost the fight
To keep business flowing,
Through the villains of the night
Tumbleweed is blowing.

Where the open desert reigns
Outlaw forms are branded,
Figures on the burning plains,
Ghosts of cowboys stranded.


©
 

I avoid Westerns nowadays, although I've watched loads in the past. Now I'm feeling a bit guilty.

Many think the Mel Brooks satire Blazing Saddles rendered westerns null and void Biz. If an old one's on the box, occasionally I get roped in and end up watching it. Or should that be lassoed in?

Probably.

I don't think I saw the Mel Brooks film? but I do tend to get tired of formats after a while. It's bliss to be able to record something, then just delete if it's not enjoyable enough.

I remember recommending "Once upon a Time", but have stopped watching that as I grew tired of it.

I do remember you mentioning that, but I never actually saw it.

As much as I'm enjoying this weather, it's affected my output. It feels too hot even to write You could say I've dried up It's only a temporary setback though and I'm struggling to finish an epic. I'm sure I'd have completed the poem if there'd been grey skies