FRUSTRATING STUPIDITY

The screen went blank on my I-Pad, locked solid.

Defied all attempts to revive it.

'Oh, what did I do? Come on tell me. What did I do?'

Silence!

'Come on you are part of the problem. You must know.'

Silence!

'Or are you having a moment to yourself. All right, I'll wait, don't be too long.'

I filled in time with other tasks. A ping rang out.

'You're back! Oh, thank goodness, I thought you had a terminal affliction. We are so comfortable together most of the time. I did not want to buy a replacement. To struggle through and learn, new more complicated tricks, for a smooth companionable partnership which we already share. Nice to have you back.'

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

 

MADAGASCAR

I was introduced to your beauty, sadness, desperation, and the threads of hope to ensure your future survival.

Trying to slow down the burn and slash that has desiccated your magnificent skirts and covers of forests, leaving land for human cultivation and eventual destruction.

Lack of knowledge makes me weep, as each area can sustain cultivation for only a few years.

When there are no leaves, trees, insects and wildlife to fertilise and vitalise the land, it erodes away.

A new way to cultivate food needs to be found.

Other parts of the world have done just that, by growing green vegetables on the water.

There are other ways to use the minimum of water, and that skill needs to be shared as you grow food for the tables.

You have a railway going coast to coast, capable of spreading the word, perhaps as quickly as business ripples along it today.

Madagascar, for millennia you have nurtured and hidden plants and creatures never seen before.

Perhaps, in just some such plants, insects and creatures, the cure for man's many ills is waiting to be discovered.

Keep your treasures protected and locked away; there is always another way.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

 

THE LIGHTEST OF TOUCHES

When lying on the grass under a shady tree, my eyelids drooped and soon I was asleep, to be awoken with the lightest of touches tickling my nose.

Gently, oh so gently, I opened my eyes to see a beautiful butterfly standing on four legs and staring into my eyes.

I am not sure who was the most surprised.

It opened its wings in case danger I might be, allowing me to see the underside of its wings up close.

I gazed at its tiny face and its eyes with its multiple sight sensors, as it rapidly uncurled its proboscis, gently touching my nose and quickly retracting.

I was obviously not the flavour it was seeking.

My nose started to feel a sneeze approaching. The need to suppress it became overpowering.

I did not want to propel my delicate visitor into orbit with an explosion.

Thankfully, it took off in time, allowing me to admire its beautiful flight.

How could something so beautiful come from something so ugly, yet so interesting, as a caterpillar?

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

 

 

THE START

Dare I breathe, dare I sigh at the first glimpse of love.

The sight that first connected us was brief.

Yet I kept going over it for weeks.

We met again, my heart patted out a joyful beat.

As we moved closer and I attempted to speak, you smiled giving encouragement to my advance.

We stumbled through our first few words, gathering names, phone numbers and addresses ending our brief conversation full of hesitations.

Week’s passed before we shared a coffee, a laugh, a touch.

Tentatively love grew and I came to love you so much.

Daily trusts began we hugged, kissed, not a moment to be missed.

Till the day I asked for your hand, 'Will you marry me?'

'Yes,' came your reply, 'but my father has to agree.'

Convention at the time dictated that request, before you could give yourself to me.

In memory of that day and all we have had together since, will you once again be my ever loving Valentine.

🩷🌸🩷🌸🩷🌸🩷🌸🩷🌸🩷🌸🩷🌸🩷🌸

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen 

Photo: Pixabay License

 

 

WHAT A VIEW

After a meal with special friends, cooked and served by other hands, a spectacular view of the Isle of Wight, stretching right and left to Southampton and Portsmouth where liners sail in and out with tourists thirsty for the knowledge of the history, of our ancient land.

Where perhaps their ancestors once sprang.

Entering their new home, and mounting the stairs, a view to die for expanded there, with sunshine sparkling everywhere.

Boredom will not intrude as spectacular sights keep changing the views.

Even on a bitter winter’s day, tucked up inside, you can still watch the sea’s fantastic displays and passengers sailing to other exciting destinations.

What a lovely new home to retire in!

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

 

 

INTERNET DISCONNECT

Staring out the windowpane, looking at the rain, wondering when normal service would be resumed again.

No friendly ringing, no poems or stories to enjoy, just silence hanging heavily no joy.

Hands reach out to tap the keys, to creatively dance the words upon the screen.

Yet no matter what I tap, there is nothing to be seen.

At last, the knowledge I did have to accept, no internet connection could I expect.

A flash of communication appeared, you have no internet connection.

I thought that was plain to see! I just want to know how you can return it to me.

A voice from a distant part informed me it was fine on their end. 

All is well for them but what about me, silence still reigns.

I am an old customer, yet service to me does not extend.

Firmer action is needed for the voices on the other end.

Or this long-standing relationship will sadly have to terminate.

As I go searching for a much more supportive, helpful unseen connector.

To join in reconnecting me to my so wonderful internet friends.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

 

 

THE BLACK HAT TALE

I am a donkey called Fernando, living with a lovely man in the coastal hills of Spain. Sometimes on my journeys, I can see, when up a hilltop, a huge amount of water they call the sea. 

Strange, as very few people I know have been there or seen it, except from up here, when we pause each day, on the highest hilltop, to rest and have a drink and some hay. I gazed towards the sea, wishing I could visit one day. 

The day when it came was so exciting: my owner had a rich nephew who had phoned with an invitation. “Come on down to the seaside. I will pay; it is fiesta day.” 

My owner’s face lit up in excitement, which quickly faded away. 

“Thank you, my nephew. I have to humbly say no. I have Fernando, my donkey, to look after. I cannot leave him and go, as there are wild dogs here and they would hurt him, I know.” 

“Bring him with you. I will send a truck to give you both a ride. Fernando will be safe in my stable with Marie, my donkey, and we can join the fiesta, with music, horses and noisy marching bands. We can walk together on the golden sand with Marie and Fernando running freely in and out of the water, and rolling in delight, wildly on the sand. Marie knows how to be safe in the water; she will take Fernando in hand.” 

“Ok, we will come.” 

“Stay the night with me,” the nephew said. “Then we can celebrate without worry if we drink one drink more than planned.” 

So my owner washed me down, brushed me like mad, and polished my reins and brass bits until they looked the best they ever had. Then he brought a lovely black hat to me, which he said had a story to tell. 

It fell out of the sky during a terrible gale and landed at his feet. He tried to find the owner, but failed. So he kept it in the cupboard in case someone might like to wear it. 

“That day has now come. I am going to give it to you to wear. I will cut holes for your ears and tuck flowers in the headband. You will become Fernando, one of the most handsome donkeys in this land.” 

A year later, the nephew rang again, “Uncle, it is fiesta time again. Please come with Fernando. I will send a lorry for you both, just like last time.” 

My old man sighed deeply, as he did not imagine he would be asked again. It had been a very hard year for Fernando and him. He drew himself up, saying, “Yes, nephew; we will come.” 

Next day, after being groomed very thoroughly, and with a case with all that we both needed, we were loaded onto the lorry for our trip to the seaside. I was led to the stable where Marie greeted me in excitement, leaning out her head, hee-hawing, “Hee-haw, hee-haw.” 

I replied in a language only we understood. Suddenly, I stopped in puzzlement, as another young voice called from the stall. 

The nephew opened the stable door, saying, “This is the surprise I have had for you both. Marie has a foal called Miranda. I have been longing to tell you, but decided to wait till fiesta day came around once more.” 

So, as a lovely family united, we set off, with my black hat firmly in place, ready for a great family fiesta day out. 

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Daniela Silvia Serban

 

 

TIGA, THE DOG WHO CAN´T STAND TV FOOTBALL GAMES

Tiga is a dog with brains...

Who can’t stand TV Football Games.

So with intelligence and care, she tries to influence, those watching, diligently from their chairs.

She picks on one who will appeal to her performing.

With her whimpers pathetic and constantly annoying.

Attention is drawn from the screen to her rhythmic pawing.

It’s to be put to bed, her silent begging is pleading.

So up they get to tuck her in and stop her irritating complaining.

She is left on her own, to enjoy quiet doggy dreaming.

When back they go to watch their goal furor, with whistleblowing and referee manfully controlling.

A slight commotion is seen, a tail in active motion.

She’s back to manipulate and win what she’s after, the total abandonment, of the TV, Football Game.

It is no fun lying in bed when all the others are awake, calling and shouting and getting in a state.

Time and time she makes her play, till the referee’s whistle blows, game’s end for the day.

Then with no pretense or ceremony she places her ball at feet that seem to keep on moving.

With eyes large, brown and practiced at pleading she’s ready, for live football, the game of her choosing.

Ref, please book that dog for foul and dishonest play.

Today!

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

 

 

THE START

As I opened the door, I heard it. In the wakening dawn, a bird started its morning song.

I had to stand and listen in the cold air, as the chorus grew into a sweet neighbourhood conversation.

It is amazing to realise that, though we live in such close proximity, there are only limited times when we connect and listen to one another.

Screams of fear and rage, no matter when, make me move to a door or window, ready to repel a stalking cat, or larger bird, leaving you to live in peace.

There are times when I have need of quiet contemplation at the beginning or end of a day.

Your lovely singing intrudes, capturing my attention, soothing away any concerns I have.

It is strange, as you must listen, too, to the ups and downs coming from our house, making decisions when to hide or pop outside, dodging the neighbourhood cats who often saunter around our garden on an adventure or just passing through.

I value our coexistence; long may it continue, and I hope you think so, too.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

 

 

USE YOUR LOCAL SHOP!

Shop, shop! Oh quick stop, stop!

I was on my way to buy food when I lost the shop I was going to.

It's amazing but one by one they have put up their shutters and closed for good. 

At first, it did not dawn on me as there was always one more on the corner around our way you see.

Then horror upon horror my options started to shrink.

Now there is no shop there for us to pop out to buy our food or our drink.

I'm old and a car is a luxury we can't afford and buses here have stopped calling, ‘All aboard!’

So open your eyes. 

Stop the rot, or the superstore will have closed the lot!

Stop, stop! Use your local shop.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo by Edward Howell on Unsplash

 

 

The parched ground awaiting the drop of rain, as clouds heavily laden lumber past. 

Will they release their load or move away? 

As we are left to search the Sky’s for clouds already crying.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

 

 

SHOE EXPENSE

If you owned a caterpillar and had to buy him shoes, you would use up all your pocket money and have none left to buy your chews.

However, once he became a butterfly, three pairs would be all he’d need to wear.

Because by then, he’d have grown two lovely wings to help carry his weight and prevent holes from rapidly appearing through the bottom of his shoes.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo by Sonika Agarwal on Unsplash

 

 

POST KNOCK

Iris on moving into a new area was invited by a new friend to her house.

The lady said ‘I am having a coffee morning, and will ask some of my neighbours to come around to meet you.

It might help you, to feel more at home here. 

Iris was delighted and accepted the invitation.

On the appointed day, she swung into her friend's shared drive, took a fit of sneezing, and ploughed through a row of Mail Boxes.

‘As of course, you shut your eyes when you sneeze, don’t you!’

What a way to make new friends. 

However, all was redeemed by the newfriend, who happened to have, a handyman, working on her property at the time and he quickly repaired the damage.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo by Hiroshi Kimura on Unsplash

 

 

LEARNING TO FLY

Three young birds, feathers all shining and new, stood by their mother, admiring the view.

Their mother said, ‘Please follow me all of you and do as I do.’

She spread her wings and gently flew to the branch of a nearby tree.

‘Come on now, don't be frightened, just do what I showed you.’

They seemed a bit scared, so back to the roof she went.

Once more she called to the little birds, ‘Come on darlings, do what I do.’

The birds watched once more, then one of them was tempted by his mother's call.

He landed on the tree with a bit of a wobble and shouted, ‘It’s great, come on down you two!’

The others would not be outdone, so they launched themselves into the air and found it was such fun.

Mother bird said, ‘You know, we are the lucky ones, as only feathered birds can fly like us. Humans need a ticket, sometimes a passport, and have to wait for hours at an airport, to fly in a big airbus.’

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo by Maurice Schalker on Unsplash

 

I WISH, HOW I WISH

I wish I could summon up a spell.

Powerful enough to make everyone well.

Even if it’s only for twenty-four hours.

A real, worldwide, pain-free day.

To see bodies all twisted and sad,

Straighten up, and smile in amazement.

They would be so glad.

It might strengthen them to cope day by day.

The best I can do is inform with my pen.

Make sure the important information is in plain sight.

Signposting the right people to assist when they can.

Raising funds to crack the misery assailing everyone.

Perhaps then, one by one, my wish might come true.

When that terrible, isolating thing called pain,

Would be pushed back into the past,

And never again pop into view.

2024 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

 

JUST 15 MINUTES

Just 15 minutes slots you have been paid to spend with me.

No time to chat or you might forget to wash my feet, along with my body.

Clothes off! Clothes on! 

Quick we have to be! 

Ouch, take care that hurt!

Just time for food to be put in front of me. 

Pills, hot tea and drink, whichever is my choice.

Then off you go at speed, to achieve the next timed deadline.

No time to chat, though that is the care I hunger for the most.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

 

KILLING SPREE

Darkly silently it glides in feet first, before retracting it’s wings to maintain a balance.

The deadly work then begins.

Poking, snapping, devouring, young frogs from their underwater dwelling.

I know it is nature and we should not interfere.

However, our frogs are becoming rarer and now need saving.

I’ve deepened the pond, and rigged up preventative fishing line.

To stop their ease of access.

It will not totally prevent the crow's raids.

Just decrease their killing spree.

So frogs will still come to my pond at mating time.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Crow Photo by Chris Linnett on Unsplash

Frog Photo by Dulcey Lima on Unsplash

The Fish Pond Photo by  Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

 

 

A WOMAN I AM

A woman I am: a decision-maker, it is true; stubborn, with swings of mood, fiercely protective and with laughter often bubbling free. A lover, a wife, a mother, not always without mistakes, I have to admit to quite a few.

From birth, I have the unspoken, sacred honour to help populate this earth, this human place. To nurture and strengthen the young to know right from wrong. Working dawn to dusk to help place food on the table.

When I can, I work hard to introduce an educational plan. I work to keep finances firmly in place, to sustain and secure a future, safer for my children, safer than mine.

As a woman, I long for the banishment of physical and mental abuse that some suffer behind closed doors, and for happiness and love to gently flow.

Other women have remained single, through health or choice; a different path they might have had to follow.

The pressure is on for women to have more say and influence at home. To contribute to the community and nation in numerous, previously unimaginable, ways.

With age, I hope to fade away, leaving a mark on this human time, departing with the hope of seeing again those I have so fiercely loved and have had to sadly leave behind.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

 

 

 

THE BABY GIRAFFE

I landed with a thump and woke into a strange world. My mum was pulling something off me and giving me a good wash with her tongue.

Making small quiet air grunting noises which I found very comforting. Other giraffes came to greet me with a touch and a puff of warm air.

They were so tall and I felt so small, yet I somehow knew we were a family. I had to have a few tries at attempting to stand up, Mum nudged from the rear.

Finally, my legs lined up splayed and locked into place, suddenly I was taller but still not tall enough.

This was a struggle I had to win to reach up and suckle my mum’s vital milk. It was something I was born knowing, don’t ask me how.

Staggering about I finally made it, and found the teat I had to nuzzle. Oh the joy, hard to explain, as I guzzled as fast as I could, to fill my stomach with this glorious food.

Day after day I gained in strength, and my legs strengthened, as I followed the herd with my mum.

I learnt I had to reach up as high as I could to find the tenderest and the tastiest food. As other animals shorter than us, stripped all the leaves off the lowest branches of trees and bushes we passed.

Life was good for Mum and me, with Dad and my family always nearby.

Then one dawn with no warning men and lorries started chasing us, Mum fell with no warning and struggled to move. I stopped and stood beside her I did not know what to do.

The lorries stopped and men came towards us talking gently, Mum was all floppy.

They took her first gently, shepherding her into the back of a lorry up a ramp. I meekly followed as close as I could. It was very scary and I shivered a lot.

After a while, we were safely underway, bumping along on the rough ground. I did not have a clue where we were going too, till I heard someone say.

These are the lucky ones who are going to an animal sanctuary and breeding programme in the U.K.

Not that I knew what that meant, though I do now. It is home and safety, but somehow Dad got left behind. Mum was upset and so was I for quite a long time.

I grew and grew and met some young friends, Mum met a handsome kind stranger and that is where this story ends.

We are here, to ensure giraffes will always be seen roaming freely restored, to the free African Weald.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

 

 

GOLDEN WEDDING BAND

A golden wedding band went missing somewhere in the coral sand.

It was found by a passing mermaid and worn upon her hand.

At first, she felt the sorrow its loss must surely bring.

She knew there would have been great searching and wondering.

She’d like to tell the owner, she’d wear it now with pride, it would be her connection to the world, up beyond the tide.

Her wish for the replacement would be, to give it once again with love though in a slightly smaller size.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo by Daniela Silvia Serban

 

THE FLY

First, you sigh.

Then you hiss in frustration.

Next, visualize and strike.

Missed by a mile, this crafty elusive Fly.

Whose eyesight is much better, than your's or mine.

Brainpower came into play, trapped, one swat.

You will not now fly, another day.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

 

EMERGENCY ROAD STOP

Police cars speed past.

Lights flashing, sirens screeching.

Anxiously, we gazed ahead to see what danger we might be meeting.

The traffic slows to a stop

To our amusement a couple of shepherds and their dogs,

Are strolling across the motorway guiding their flock.

In relief, we giggle and laugh at the sight

Of sheep, under police protection, moving to pastures new.

From the left side of the motorway across to the right.

It was nice to see that even today

Man and animals still, on occasions,

Have a safe right of way.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

 LIFE

The needs of most of humanity are simple: a dwelling, however fragile, to call their own; steady, clean water, sanitation, and food supply; clothing; good friends, love, family and a sense of belonging, with access to education and health services in a community setting.

Only a small minority of humanity seek and demand more, much more, using terror, pain, death and destruction of what the majority hold dear.

Why?

We enter this world with nothing, and we leave with nothing, not even our bodies.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo by Eric Prouzet on Unsplash

My Pen & I

 

 

 

MADEIRA ISLAND

Oh, Madeira, of dark sparkling diamante breast mists gently swirling, clinging, caressing your face with tenderness.

I've longed from memories of past childhood journeys, to explore your dark luxurious, folded, sea-dipped dress.

As I silently, admiringly, slip past your feet dipped in the ocean.

In ships bound for more exotic and distant shores.

In times past ancient mariners have sought with thanks-giving your protection and reprovision from food grown on your precipitous slopes.

A lifesaver you have been to many, standing proud, secure, welcoming the cold, wet, sick and shaking from the wild Atlantic sea.

Now times are changing you might need help from many like me.

Your population's exploding, buildings are eroding parts of your surface of its luxurious greenery.

Rain clouds are reluctant now, to keep colliding with your mountain tops to set their rain cascading free.

So visitors such as I, must help preserve and protect you for future generations to see with pleasure and retentive, reflective memory.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

 

 

IN A SHROUD OF MIST 

Standing alone wrapped in a shroud of mist, I want to be free allowing the sun to kiss me.

I want to be free for my buds to burst through, for flowers to shake exquisite scent in the air and to the forest floor. 

To be there as shelter for squirrels, as they unpacking their cheeks with nuts to eat.

I want to be free for birds to sing and my branches to dance along.

I want to be place for insects to multiply in my bark tickling me.

So let the breeze tug away, this thick blanket of cold and damp.

So my day can start as the mist shreds and fades away, down through the valley and out to sea.

I will then be free for all my friends to visit me.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

 

 

TREES

Trees, shedding their leaves, showing colourful autumn dressing, becoming objects of wonder to behold.

Having lost all their summer floral dressing, stand shivering and shaking in winter's violent cold.

Standing exposed for birds and squirrels to chase and dive through, providing shelter in cosy hollows deep in their warm, wooden insides.

Bark peels and splits to show new and sweet-smelling wood.

In spring, buds burst forth, expanding canopies of beautiful fresh green.

Ready to provide blossom, some sweet smelling, always colourful, and food for the awakening bees and other treetop dwellers.

We owe them our admiration and vigilant protection, so that they may continue to grow and multiply this circle of life for other generations to admire.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Anna Almeida

 

 

YOUNG ONES

I make my call to the young ones, it’s to them I am appealing. 

We need your youth and your vigor, along with your sense of fun. 

Come to join us in the struggle, to help, the old and the young. 

To all the youth just listen, follow me and we’ll have fun.

Follow me and we’ll have fun!

We rely on your work on computers and challenging political puns.

We need your strength and protection, and your sense of fair play. 

To steer us into the future, in a successful way.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License