When purposefully stepping forward to do something, forgetting on the way. Standing still, hoping the memory returns. Oh, blow it has gone!
Turn and return, thinking hard on the way. Almost back where I started, when with an exclamation of triumph, the memory suddenly comes flooding back.
© Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
I believe in miracles, that birds can fly and so can I, in Aircraft in the sky.
I can believe in miracles, that food appears from the ground, in shops and fancy supermarkets, it can be found.
Flown in by aircraft from countries all around.
I believe the rain will fall, in parts of the world at different times.
Sometimes, it will flood, at others, hardly a trickle is revealed.
I believe the sun will shine to warm the day and chase germs and pesky bugs away.
At times, it heats the earth to dust, water evaporates and it fails to stay.
I hope that our human presence, in this world is tempered, by a much softer, kinder, sharing, caring, nurturing hand.
To preserve this Earth our, very precious land.
© Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
Sitting facing the sea, writing at the beginning of the slowly cooling and vanishing day. Watching shadows lengthening casting their last caresses on the sand.
Slowly raising my eyes, I was being inspected by a mother duck and her two developing and inquisitive ducklings.
She let them come close enough to almost nibble my toes, yet ready to protect them at any hint of danger from me. One thought it was safe enough to sit snugly in front of me. Mum was still on watch.
Suddenly they rose as one and headed for the sea, mum taking up the rear. I gently raised my eyes to see what had alarmed them.
There on the sand standing proudly was the Drake, the boss of the family. I wonder if he said, “Watch it she’s a human, not all humans are kind.”
Sadly animals have to teach their young to be wary of humans. We also have to teach our young to be kind and protective of them, so we can live together in harmony.
© 2022 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
The beach emptied, as visitors caught their ferries back home, or went to tidy up for dinner.
Three seagulls were left, determined to wait for the last available bird tasty nibble, as the tourist seaside tables were cleared.
A battle started, "it is mine, not yours, fly off."
Screeching broke out till only one seagull remained.
"The beach is mine" it declared, but it was a hollow victory, as no more scraps of food were available.
Finally with a last look around. He took off seawards skimming the water and soaring upwards to nest in the trees in the surrounding hills.
To await good fishing, or another scavenging day, when the tourists come back again to play.
© 2022 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Round the World a tapping sound
Plays catch-up as night turns into day
As this twenty-four hours
Swirls round to it’s end.
Words crafted emerge in a wave.
Poets produce their special work,
To showcase to their friends.
Subjects diverse from birth to death,
Love declared or lost recorded
With joy or soul searching despair.
© Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
A friend invited me to a Carol Concert on the edge of a river, at a place known as ‘The Landing’ at Kerikeri, New Zealand. We went along totally unprepared was the arrangement was for us to meet and sit with some friends and their young family. The next time, the word picnic is mentioned, the car will be full of comfort goodies, the two main items being folding chairs.
It was a most wonderful experience, in spite of having to make an ungainly descent onto the blanket, assisted by several caring helping hands easing me earthwards. There were reassuring offers of help, to repeat the process of rising again when we wished to leave. I turned my feet to face the river, to hopefully promote health and safety, and keep tripping accidents to a minimum.
Once settled, I glanced around. It was a beautiful sunny evening; whole families sat together on the grass facing the stage, erected at one end of the ground. Quite a few people brought chairs, picnic baskets, and sun umbrellas. Everyone in the audience was prepared with song sheets to sing their hearts out when the time came. There was a choir, with soloists, musicians, a compare, and a conductor, all bustling about preparing their music and tuning up. What a din!
While we sat waiting for the concert to begin, I watched the activities going on around us. Several children ran about waving balloons and before long, some escaped and were blown into the river. Off they bobbed on their journey following the air thermals and the water currents. Screaming children ran alongside hoping to grasp them again if they happened to reach a bank.
A beautiful kingfisher sat on a branch, searching intently for a supper snack in the water below him, oblivious to the commotion in his otherwise tranquil surrounds. Ducks swam up and down begging for bread, and diving bottoms up for underwater goodies. There was quite a bit of duck procreation going on; no embarrassment there. One very ardent male nearly drowned his mate in the process.
Well-behaved trim seagulls did an occasional food-seeking flypast. However, with the ducks in possession of the riverbank, the gulls had to wait till the humans had gone, to do their rewarding work of clearing up any leftover food. Unless they were very cheeky, chaps who snatched food out of the hands of unwary eaters.
Just before the performance, a large striped, canary yellow and blue sun umbrella, was lifted by the wind and rolled along the ground. It was chased by several people, desperately trying to capture it before it escaped. It evaded capture and landed upside down in the river. There it provided great hilarity as it sailed majestically along, every now and then disappearing under the water, handle and all. Slowly, the umbrella appeared again from the depths, to repeat its performance at times during quite moving moments, in the carol singing.
The carols were a bit different from the familiar English ones, which was quite refreshing. It delighted me to hear Maori carols sung, and I followed the wording very carefully. The choir sang with gusto and the young soloists gave touching performances much applauded by one and all, especially loudly by their listening families.
The only discordant note was my almost numb bottom and fidgety legs. Just as I was about to give in, and ask for help to arise, a spit of rain fell from a lonely grey cloud. It stopped as soon as it began and suddenly a wonderful thing happened.
A magnificent rainbow appeared, hanging over the river with its beautiful colours sharply defined. I for one will not forget that enchanting evening. I hope to be back next year God willing, fully prepared for a comfortable seat and some companionable singing with friends and nature.
© Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: The Landing NZ
Friends invited us to an Opera Picnic, the first in the far north of New Zealand.
Our drought was broken a couple of days ago. We had a welcome burst of heavy rain followed by some light tantalising showers, a few of which landed on the morning of the event. With frequent glances skywards, our pleas turned to no rain please this evening.
We arrived at a beautiful large garden called The Flute Farm, the wife of the owner is a flute player, hence the interesting name.
We made our way laden with our picnic delights to a gazebo, joining others similarly engaged. Introductions were exchanged, new friendships made, as we settled down amongst friends to eat our picnic, tastily chosen and prepared by our hostess Marie.
We had an extra guest a cat, who attached itself to us using it’s nose to good effect, establishing the fact we had something tasty and might be a soft touch. It was correct on both counts.
We settled back to enjoy the feast and the company, keeping a wary glance skywards as the occasional black cloud lumbered it’s way overhead. As the feast ended the cat left for where it’s forever home was, well-fed and patted.
We sat back to enjoy the evening of Opera. It was wonderful, we were not disappointed at all. There was a variety of music to suit all listeners. The singers never lost us for a moment and at the end encouraged us to join in. Something several of us was longing to do, so ended a grand evening, to be repeated next year I was delighted to hear. Even the weather answered our request and stayed away, just hope it comes back tomorrow as we do need more rain.
Home to bed and moments before sleep, to relive some of the music, before sleep claimed me. Thank you for a wonderfully magical evening, everyone.
© Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: The Flute Farm
The sun shone out brightly shaking off a morning's storm. Displaying the brightest rainbow we have ever seen born.
Now is the time to see if the legend is true and a pot of gold is waiting there for you.
Oh, how you do deserve it of that there is no doubt. So let’s get there quickly before it’s visibility fades out.
Each time we nearly touched it, it disappeared it is true. Yet it was not disappointed that we felt.
It was the beauty and value of the rainbow and the feelings that it gave, of wonder and delight at nature, sharing such a spectacular sight before it finally moved.
The memory of the rainbow, money certainly will not buy. Priceless it will remain with you, in your mind's eye, till the day you climb the rainbow into the sky.
2022 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
We safely crossed the Canadian border and after arranging things for the night went straight into a night thunderstorm. At first, it was just dramatic thunder and lightning, dashing about in all directions. Both catch our fear, exhilaration and imagination with the drama.
The deluge followed crashing on our new mobile home's roof, I lay in my bed at the back, snuggly tucked in watching the performance. Suddenly a drop of water hit my face off the window ledge, then another, and another, quickly becoming a flow.
I called out to my friends at the other end of the mobile, “I am being flooded bring a bucket and some towels please.” With the lights on it was plain to see the flood was coming out of a metal-studded seam in the roof's connection to the wall.
I said, “I will take a look outside and see what is going on, my raincoat is nearer and I am the tallest of us, to be able to reach the roof and see if we can do anything.” They agreed, then out into the tempest torch in hand, I carried out my inspection. The cause was plain to see a roof drain stopped short of the seam down my bedroom wall, sending a cascade of water directly into it.
What to do was the next problem? A flash of inspiration chewing gum, which my friends seem to have in copious amounts. My next instruction was for us all to start chewing, till I had enough to block the seam and construct a longer drain. Then out into the tempest once more, two of us this time, one to hold the torch, the other to be chewing gum plasterer applicator untrained. The third member of the team had to report from my bedroom if our efforts were effective and to keep chewing gum for more supplies.
After hard, wet, arm and Jaw aching work, a shout of triumph, it is stopping. Thank goodness for that, as we cast off soaking clothing and went to inspect the bedroom wall. The flood had dwindled to a slight ooze, enough to be handled by folded towels till morning.
Needless to say, sleep was in short supply and at the first light of dawn, cups of tea were in order, to ease aching jaws after the chewing gum marathon. To add insult to injury the sun rose brilliantly, not a storm cloud in sight. Just soaking wet towels and clothing as evidence of the Shenanigans in the night.
Our next stop was a mobile home repair shop to see what could be done as a temporary fix till the end of our journey and before having to make our way home.
One of many unforgettable trips I made with my friends Audrey and Collin Wallace. They have taken their final journal, one of which I have yet to travel. Sleep well and thank you for your wonderful hospitality and friendship.
Every two years over a six year period I went to them for a months holiday and was shown large swathes of America, a bit of Canada, and a bit of Mexico. It was extremely generous of them and I retain the memories forever.
© 2022 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
Still, the heart as we depart.
You start to sorrowfully mourn.
Through tears, the questions flow.
Why you, why now this year.
It’s not fair, words so often uttered.
Is there a better time?
How and when would we choose?
Thankfully that choice is not ours.
It is left in safer hands than yours or mine.
© 2022 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
Love is declared!
In every possible way!
In hope,
For this message of love
To ignite or blossom
Into an all-consuming flame.
In the loss of a love
Once shared,
Yet in anger thrown away.
In sorrow,
As on the final journey,
Your love makes its solitary way.
In new life’s arrival,
That you both made with love,
A constant reminder.
Celebrates,
All these feelings,
Good or bad.
Take courage if you are faint-hearted,
By a card or word let your loved one know.
You are tender-hearted and love them so.
By this act,
You might start a lifetime's journey
Of caring and sharing love between you.
© 2022 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
I admire what I do not see, little fish swimming in on the gentle lapping tide.
Seeking the tasty morsels that heat has caused to rise.
Enjoying a banquet now laid bare, before being dragged back to a deeper depth.
To be wary and dodge being someone else’s tasty dish.
© 2022 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
A big green and brown grasshopper, flew in when the door was open a few days ago. We did not see it arrive, once spotted it placed itself up too high for us to catch it for release outside.
It is not welcome in our home as it manages to stay hidden for days and moves and hides in all sorts of places. That means we have to be aware of our visitor at all times of the day or night.
We have to make sure the bathroom and bedroom doors are shut at all times. Or else we might have a scary embarrassing encounter.
We have to check before sitting down otherwise it hops up your trouser or shorts legs. Starts us shouting and jumping about trying to shake it out again.
Sometimes it sits on a door handle or hand rail when you are about to open a door or to climb a stair. That shocks all of us grasshopper as well.
If we see it resting somewhere low down, we grab a plastic container and a piece of cardboard and trap it. Before gently lifting it up and rapidly putting it down the garden on a bunch of weeds, before retreating back indoors and shutting the door.
It is only then that we can relax in our own home, without being on the lookout for our elusive unwelcome visitor.
© Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
While the world in torment fly,
You and I cling together
With kindness and love overflowing.
Trying to shut out all that is sad.
With endearments and caresses,
And hopes that things will get better.
Reluctant to untangle and become one,
To face the world to see what can be done.
Take care darling till we are again together.
© 2022 Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
