Balunar - Lyndon Queripel

Someone once said the Moon was a balloon
But I hope that is not the case
For a satellite is off course tonight
And gone out of control in space
A red state emergency’s too late
The computer’s failed to stop it
This event anticipated no accident
If it hits the moon, I’m afraid it’ll pop it.

Lyndon Queripel

Call Collect - Lyndon Queripel

Walls have ears
Be careful when you speak
Telephones have taps
And mine’s started to leak.

Lyndon Queripel

Gales! - Jenny Hamon

Batten down the hatches
There’s a gale on the way,
Blowing up the alley
Making the trees sway

The weatherman has forecast
The wind from the north west
It’s going to feel quite chilly
So please put on your vest.

Go and check your mooring
Make sure the chain is good
Your boat is too expensive
To end up as fire wood.

With debris on the roads
Beware of fallen trees
And flooding being caused
By drains being blocked with leaves.

When you are driving home
Avoid the costal way
With waves and stones crashing
Over the wall at Vazon Bay.

This is the sort of weather
We get living on our Isle
So wrap up nice and warm
And ride it out with a smile.

Jenny Hamon

Grizzlies In Town - Andrew Barham

Where have all the Black Bears gone?
Eaten by Grizzlies every one!
So many Grizzlies in town –
One night last Summer
There were nine strolling around;
In The Village, a young male built his den
And all the little children to school in cars went then;
Mothers with cubs on the edge of the school grounds
Raiding gardens and dumpsters
And annoying the wife of the new parson –
It reminds me of a cartoon by Gary Larsen:
Bears on a fishing dock flossing their teeth
With fishing line to clean out bits of meat –

Yet! I've never actually seen a Grizzly
Though I've been within ten feet of a mother and cubs
Hidden from view by the thick brush along the trail –
She let me know I wasn't welcome.

Andrew Barham

Grey Day May - Andrew Barham

The black days of bleak November
Arrive ever earlier these days
How well do I remember
Those May skies of sunlight and grace,
But day after day the weary rain falls down
And that early promise of Summer fades –
All around me, the cars circle the town
Manically flashing their wiper blades;
Sluicing the dense rain onto the paving
Where the passers-by hunch and huddle
Like bent figures from an old engraving
As they step around the deepening puddles:

I dream of Poe and his bleak December
While longing for the warm Summer Sun –
But we are bereft, left only with its dying embers;
Spring has sprung and already it's done,
May Day ushered in with slatey skies of grey;
Waiting, waiting, waiting for a glimpse of blue,
A burst of sunshine to lighten up our days,
Spring's bright promise of a world renewed –
Halfway through May, and where are the flowers?
They are barely showing through the soggy ground.
Halfway through May and these cold April showers,
Endlessly, monotonously, just keep coming down.

Andrew Barham