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, and 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

 

 

MURDEROUS AWAKENING

I was meandering my way to breakfast, dropping off and collecting things I needed for the day. 

I walked into my lounge and was startled by screams coming from outside the glass door, and the sight of two teenage cubs, fighting over what looked like black and white feathers.

Lily was lying flat, tail level with the floor, and the fur on her back raised in battle mode, nose on the glass. 

It was then I realised what I was looking at was the remains of a magpie. 

Poor thing!

Suddenly, in padded the mother fox, as thin as possible, with her teats looking like a depleted milk bar. 

Obviously, the cubs were still looking to her for backup food. 

She raced about, hoping to find a morsel to satisfy her hunger. 

There was nothing left, just the long wing and tail feathers.

I longed to feed her but I knew it would be wrong to do so, or Lily, the older cat who has become mine, might also become breakfast or supper.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo by Jeremy Hynes on Unsplash

 

 

I LOVE TO WRITE

It is hard to believe I have dared to write on this page because, for half of my life, I lived in terror of the written word. With the use of technology, that has all changed.

Unbelievably, I now love writing; I really do. Hardly a day goes by without my pen being on the move.

It takes me into all kinds of situations and emotions, triggered by a conversation, a picture, music, the news, and animal and bird interactions. Not to mention the weather, a trigger and beginning for conversations with strangers.

Now it is a strange day if I have no time to write. I love writing and my hope is it will encourage others to write, too.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

 

 

SHOWER ADVANTAGE

The rain was pouring down, and on the top of my neighbour’s roof sat a pigeon. 

He was soaked by the heavy rain. 

I thought what a silly pigeon!

Slowly he tilted his body over to the right allowing the rain to soak under his wing. 

What a way to have a shower, just like us. 

Otherwise, the underside of his wing would never have had a proper wash.

Having washed one side, he lowered his wing and raised the other to do the same. 

Next came a head-to-tail shake and ruffle of feathers, followed by an all-over good preen. (No soap or deodorant, though.) 

He’d had a proper bird shower.

After a final shake, he flew up under the eaves to dry off. 

He slowly preened himself again all over before snuggling down, with his head tucked under his wing to go off to sleep. 

Goodnight Mr.Pigeon!

If there is no rain, birds have a dry sand (or earth) bath. 

While sitting on a dry patch, they flick, fluff, and shuffle the sand or earth up through their feathers.

This is done to get rid of mites that live in their feathers and make them itch. 

I feel itchy just thinking about it, don’t you?

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo by Daniela Silvia Serban

 

 

WRITING A POEM

Is this the first you have ever written?

Now compelled to share once you have thrown onto the page in triumph or despair.

Maybe it’s been extracted, word by word, conjuring up sentences discarded, never to be heard.

It is done, the decision made to send, yet still paused.

You leave it sitting waiting, while another cup of tea is poured.

Days later, you cast a glance once more only to be tricked into changing a word, or a line.

Send it, send it now, courage calls; it is launch time.

Your finger hits the button; too late you wonder, does it all rhyme?

It is gone!

Gathering your thoughts once more, you write your next poem, with more confidence this time.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

 

SNAIL MANNERS

Two snails were out walking towards each other on a crack on the patio floor.

Neither would give way to the other, as a certain word was called for.

The grey snail said, ’If you say the magic word I will let you pass.’

The brown snail replied, ‘That is a shame as I simply don’t have a clue what that word could be.’

The grey snail then replied, ‘You learned it at your mother’s knee.’

Still, the grey snail would not move and the brown snail kept on pushing and pushing.

He begged, ‘Please, please, tell me the magic word as I am thirsty and I want to crawl home for tea.’

‘You have just said it! You have just said it!’

The grey snail said with glee, ‘Please is such a clever word and when used often, it will get you out of trouble you’ll see, you’ll see!’

The grey snail moved to one side and they passed one another, with the brown snail saying, ‘Oh thank you!’

NOTE:

A lesson here was learned.

Good manners are for everyone including you and me.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

 

 

I AM GRATEFUL 

I am grateful for the dawn approaching.

For the warming sun of the day.

I am grateful for my husband awakening beside me.

Ready for the chores to be tackled jointly and tidied away.

I am grateful for the rain showers, gentle and refreshing.

For the dog’s energetic greeting for a walk, and food it is true.

I am grateful for the cat’s more gentle reminder of hunger.

And for permission to parade outdoors.

I am grateful that children wake from slumber.

To hug and listen to for the rest of their lives.

I am grateful for the home we own, arranged and filled with love.

And work we walk home from without the cost of a train ride.

I am grateful for the garden and the vegetables grown at the end.

The cut flowers were brought inside, giving such a lift to the spirits.

I am grateful for the scent and colour when you walk indoors.

The chatter and laughter at the table over events of the day.

I am grateful for the moments of relaxation before saying to all “Goodnight. God bless”.

Lights out, as darkness of the night settles and we are very grateful for the many things left unsaid.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo by Gabrielle Henderson on Unsplash

 

WHEN THE SHOCK CAME

It started with my name, then, “ I need to talk to you.”

The next words spoken shattered my safe world in an instant.

My husband wanted to leave me and the children.

“Why?” A small word with a big impact, exploded from me.

My mind raced. What had I done?.

Had I suddenly become a bad wife?

He expressed his reasons, but I could not retain them.

My mind turned  in another direction.

How could I manage, everything and my innocent children.

What would they say about a dad they loved so much?

Yet who could not love them enough to stay.

My tears started to flow. Had he ever loved us?

Why did I not know? When did his feelings change?

Why did he not say? Before he became attached and embedded with another woman.

He is adamant he is leaving! I know that stance too well.

Whatever am I to do? What do I say to the children? How do I stand financially? Am I such a terrible woman?

Thoughts ran to and fro, as my questions to him became relentless.

He called a halt, said he would be in touch, he had to go.

That is how my marriage ended.

How I questioned myself. What did I do that was so wrong?

Did I spend too much time with the children, and the job I took to help with expenses, did he feel he was neglected?

He never said. I loved him so much, we were, I thought sexually loving in bed.

When I explained to the children daddy would not be living with us any more, the effect this would have on the rest of their lives,, started and would be never ending.

We huddled together and cried. “But why Mum does he not love us?”

I replied, “Yes he does and he will see you regularly, he promised.”

My heart gave a tump as the man I once knew, would have done so.

Over the days, how my heart and body ached, and tears wet my pillow at night, as I started to take responsibility for all I held dear.

Bit by bit, my resolve grew. I was a good woman and mother.

I knew there would be hard times, but I would make it, with love, laughter and fun, shared with my children, to better times, past this painful marriage conclusion.

I may no longer be a wife, but I will continue to be, as I always have been the loving, caring mother of my children.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

 

THOUGHTS

I want to be kind

I want to be caring

I want to be friendship-sharing

I want to be fun, a laughter maker

I want an occasional hug

I want to be a secret sharer

I want to be a quiet listener 

I would love someone to be there when I need any of the above.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

 

 

WobblingPen wobbles in support of a wide range of feelings for friends upon my pages, changing a bad situation into something better, sharing new achievements. 

Exploring the world around us, spreading memories, laughter and kindness.

Welcome!

 Penny Wobbly

 

 

WHAT WOULD WE DO?

What would I do without you and you without me?

It is a time I hope we never see.

I hope our lights go out together, so neither of us would be lonely, losing laughter, love and touch and cuddles in the dark.

What would I do without you and you without me?

Life would take on a different meaning.

There would be no welcome key in the door, as you would not live here anymore.

You would miss my silly stories and cosy natters when I am invited to depart.

What would I do without you, and you without me?

Let's hope it is never put to the test, as it is so hard to contemplate.

Squabbles we have had, lasting only minutes; making up so important to do, showing how much being together has meant.

Don’t leave me and I will not leave you.

If we have to separate and there is a heaven, let us promise to meet there, keeping the earthly connection, turning it into a heavenly one.

Love like ours should never ever die.

You should never be without me or I without you.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License