I opened up the window

Heard the sweetest sound

Songbirds in the morning

No one else around.

Listened for a moment

Inhaled the scented air

Nature in its glory

A wonderful affair.

High up in the treetop

A magpie builds her nest

Signs that life continues

As we slay the beast possessed.

JPOET7 ( @wordverse.me )

“Kindness is a language that the deaf can hear and the blind can see”

Mark Twain

Invisible though it may seem

Kindness is a lightening beam

A beacon from a caring heart

A welcome gift when we’re apart.

A simple gesture, scribbled note

From loneliness an antidote

A friendly wave, nod or wink

Should not be that missing link.

Let us now as trouble looms

Leave a trail when life resumes

Of charity that’s burning bright

Let Kindness be that shining light.

JPOET7 ( @wordverse.me )

An ongoing story.

Springtime in Rhydale

Henrietta hedgehog hesitated having left her leafy hideaway. TheGround was wet and sluggishly slow, the thought of slugs suddenly made her hungry. She stretched her spiny body while sniffing the evening air.

Danny Dormouse dropped daintily from a dry drain. Having hibernated through the long winter it was time once more to wage war with the world. Something seemed different. No frightening familiar footsteps, foul fumes from four wheeled drives, people pounding pavements. Had he happened on a holiday. Still slightly sleepy, stealthily stepping onto a silent street searching for some Spring berries. He looked forward to a new dawn.

Sheila and Sam Sheep sheltered in a shed snugly shielded from the early morning cold as it had been a nippy night. Sheeran and Shore their recently born twins were shivering and needed nourishment. Spring sunshine soon shifted frost from fields revealing glorious green grass. Thinking it was time to test the little lamb’s limbs they shifted sheepishly from the shadows.

Flash flooding had filled fallow fields in February. Fred Fielding feared for his farm as Con Connors construction began building Concrete compounds creeping closer, consuming the countryside.

Sebastián a striped spider secretly scouted cellars, successfully securing safe situations where he could weave webs within warm walls. He hated the hedgerows. He had slipped silllily into a shoebox sent from South America which had recently arrived in Rhydale.

JPOET7 ( @wordverse.me )

A life of kindness, laughter, joy

When we rise from this disaster

Wealth will be a different shade

As love becomes our master.

Before this it was such a zoo

With people penned in cages

Perhaps now we will respect

Shop workers, nurses, aged.

Those who kept the ship afloat

Put their lives in danger

Treating all with great respect

Be it neighbour, friend or stranger.

JPOET7 ( @wordverse.me )

Lovers may be parted

Isolated in a zone

Let them know you miss them

That they’ll never be alone.

It may be just a scribbled note

Slipped underneath the door

To you it’s just a moment

To them it’s much, much more.

For life is just that simple

You swallow up your pride

Tell them that you love them

Will be always by their side.

JPOET7 ( @wordverse.me )

Gardens will be blooming

Windows shining bright

People painting busily

Rooms, yellow, blue or white.

Sweet singing of a songbird

A sound so seldom heard

Without the morning traffic

It’s beauty can be shared.

Of course there will be sorrow

Life will never be the same

But if we pull together

We can again our lives reclaim.

JPOET7 ( @wordverse.me )

Sunshine stroked a silent street

From a distance strangers greet

A nod, a wink, a simple smile

While walking by in single file.

Children playing, laughing

No longer on the greens

Instead they’re inside sitting

Glued to computer screens.

Swings in public playgrounds

Swaying in the breeze

Football pitches overgrown

Without the referees.

A world changed so dramatically

By a viral episode

Lessons learned – I wonder

To improve our moral code.

JPOET7 ( @wordverse.me )

Today‘s prompt for my writers group

( Ballaghadereen writers group )

The blind date.

I feel the contours of your face

My fingers on your body trace

The tenor of your voice so sweet

Increase the murmur of heartbeat.

Selecting now the menu Braille

The vino checked just hit the nail

That drifting touch, wafting scent

Increased my amorous intent.

I walked in darkness most my life

Wondering if I’d find a wife

But sitting here in company

I embrace at once love’s symphony.

JPOET7 ( @wordverse.me )

Freddy Fox foraged.

Freddy Fox foraged for fried fish and French fries at Friday’s fish and chip emporium where families formed formal lines for fine finger food. Pigeons pecked precariously at paltry pieces of pie placed perilously on public pavements, permanently poisoned by pumping pollutant people carriers.

Tonight though was different, the streets eerily quiet, shadows shimmering reflections from dimmed lamp standards. A freedom to roam without fear of flying objects flung from fidgety foolish fingers for fun. Henrietta hedgehog complained of crowds of children in cramped gardens in silence wired to flashing phones, towers of tossed toys tattered, scattered, ignored in place of iPads.

Freddy had become so familiar with Friday’s food that he had forgotten how to fend for himself and felt hungry. He left Rhydale depressed and disheveled and headed home.

JPOET7 ( @wordverse.me )