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

 

WALKING THROUGH

On walking through from the bright sunlight, into the cool and calming soothing dappled tree line.

To the change of noise with bird song coming to the fore, with the quiet plop of falling leaves perhaps never heard before.

A scurry overhead as squirrels chase from branch to branch and tree to tree.

The gentle music added from the slowly flowing stream, with fish some resting, others browsing in weeds trying to remain unseen.

Water bubbling louder around some rocks, forcing it’s way through.

Crossing the bridge, echoing a different sound, startling some rabbits having a chew.

How I love a walk in the country, you should try it you really should.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

 

MILLIE'S FOREVER HOME

One day a couple came to the Kennels enquiring about a dog. Millie was brought out for yet another inspection. 

At first, she could not be bothered to show what a lovely dog she was.

She had had her hopes raised too often. However, there was something different about this couple. 

It was how they crouched down to her, and allowed her to sniff their hands before they touched her. 

Showing her respect, talking quietly and gently, perhaps this time it would be different.

She started to wag her tail, put a collar and lead on and took her for a walk around the ground to see how she behaved on the lead and with them without other distractions. 

She began to raise her head, and walk more briskly; she liked this couple but did they like her?

On returning to the kennels, to her great disappointment, the collar and lead were removed and she was placed back in the cage. 

The couple left, oh they did smile and pat her and say kind words. 

She sadly curled up in a ball in her cage ‘What am I doing wrong, why don’t they like me.’

She did not know that the couple had agreed to have her, but had to wait for her to be sprayed. 

The operation and recovery would take about 2 weeks, then they would be back for her.

The day finally came and to her absolute delight, they arrived to collect her. 

She could hardly believe it. 

She was going to have a forever home. 

When she arrived at the house, she ran around sniffing everywhere, there had been a dog here once, but not anymore.

There was a large garden, a horse, cows and hens, there would be some adventures to be had. 

Millie knew at that moment, that she was going to have a very happy life with her new family.

There was only one problem, Millie had never learned to play ball or bring back sticks. 

Maybe in the past, she had been trained as a sheepdog, another reason why she loves long walks and runs.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

 

A NEW CAT IN THE GARDEN

I am in a state, I always knew there were other cats in a house near by. I just never saw them except every now and then sitting on the window sill or perched on the back of the couch. Now one of them has had the nerve to come out into my garden.

What a cheek! I rushed over to see her off, but she was not going to go easily. She settled down for a stand off. I approached with caution, as she was bigger than me. I made the most awful noise explaining this was my lawn, my house, she had no business to be there.

She just shouted back, ‘You have had it long enough to yourself, I have seen you, queening over everything.’

What does she mean? I have lived here for years, she has just arrived! What am I going to do? Suddenly she sprayed the bush near her front door, then moved towards me and crouched down again this time opening and closing her mouth with no sound.

She has changed her mind, she is trying to be friendly using her flehmen response, for those who don’t know, she is not speaking but smelling and tasting me! Slowly creeping forwards, that’s better.

Looks as though we might be starting a friendship of sorts. I can’t rush this, otherwise, she will think I am a pushover.

I am going off home and I will spray my bushes on the way.

Wow! That is quite enough excitement for one day.

Time for a relaxing snooze. I wonder what she is called?

I’ll keep my ears open and find out tomorrow.

You wait till I tell Satu, he will be amazed.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

 

A Lifetime’s Dedication

Skipping through our community magazine, I halted at an advertisement.

The Glen Miller Orchestra was coming to play in a nearby town.

A wave of nostalgia hit me from head to toe; a smile broke out:

Little Brown Jug, A String of Pearls, Kalamazoo, Chattanooga Choo Choo, Tuxedo Junction, Pennsylvania 6-5000, American Parade, Moonlight Serenade.

I was brought up with this fabulous music, revolutionary at the time.

I did not know it would sweep through ballrooms, changing sedate dance into hectic exciting rhythms and close encounter, romantic, smoochy beats.

It invigorated military music forever, sending young men and women, with heads held high, to foreign parts and war,

The music forever reminding them of home, and a different world.

In factories, it lifted spirits as they speeded material needed to end the war.

At home, this special music tugged at heartstrings, willing their partners back home.

I remember our household falling into shock and disbelief when Glen Miller’s plane was lost in the English Channel.

World gloom spread as the realisation sank in that there would be no more new music from this incredible man and his band.

I picked up the phone to book our seats to be once again captivated by Glen Miller’s music dedicatedly played by Ray McVay and His Orchestra.

The day arrived. We settled in our seats and a low hum of memories and laughter was passed around in the auditorium.

Glen Miller’s music always encouraged memories of those sad and happy times,

Not forgetting friendships and love engaged to last into more permanent, peaceful times.

The mainly grey-headed band strolled onto the stage, brass instruments gleaming, music sheets in hand ready to enthral us.

Clapping and cheering started as we, the grey-headed audience, retreated to our youthful times.

A blast of music called us to attention, to salute the director of music.

There was a silence as a wonderful gentleman of 95, Ray McVay, gently eased his way to the microphone to welcome us.

We broke out into loud clapping, acknowledging the lifetime’s dedication of this musician, band and singers, Mark Porter and Catherine Sykes, to keep the Glen Miller music and story alive.

Did you know Glen Miller’s music has sold more copies than The Beatles, Elvis Presley, The Stones, and others?

My challenge is to ask anyone who has never heard this wonderful uplifting music to research a copy, and go for a ride to an amazing time. 

We did. It was a great musical revival more than 40 years later.

Thank you.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

 

NICE TO HAVE YOU MARCHING BESIDE ME CHARLIE

Nice to have you marching beside me Charlie.

Even though I know you have long been gone.

Since that day, we fought our way from building to building, to reach the planned target.

I saw you fall bloodied, then no movement at all.

I could not stop to comfort you then, as orders were orders.

We had to capture the final strategic goal to end this battle for once and all.

My first question was where is Charlie? Have the medics brought him in?

No one knew, till a medic took me aside and told me he had sadly died.

Each Remembrance Day I feel you right beside me, Charlie, marching again with pride.

Rest well my friend, it will not be long now till I too will also rest by your side.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

 

REMEMBER

Today we remember the lives of loved ones, each one so precious to us, snuffed out in multiple international never ending wars. 

We remember too the injured left with lasting injuries both physical and mental.

Families denied a father, a mother, a sibling or an extended family member, leaving a painful, tearful void, and in some cases, change of career, and loss of a home, and financial ruin.

We thank and admire the organisations there to help, which require our assistance to raise awareness and funds now.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

 

THE PIPER

The beach was clear and empty when he began his tribute, his lonely lament.

Homage to his friends who would never march again, to the commanding evocative music of his pipes.

With steady tread and head held high, he drew breath and slowly with effort stirring the bagpipes tenderly into life.

His music, powerfully sad, picked up by the wind, tossed and lost in the unending twilight sky.

His emotions were kept well stuffed inside, only a glimpse released through his sad playing.

He marched slowly from one end of the beach to the other, for their spirits to hear the homage to them, he was making.

It was another day, another time and in a battle when they were killed and finally parted.

Comrades in arms now no more, just remembered as they were frozen in time all those many years ago.

Near the end, when his breath was weakening, his tears started to gently flow.

He knew this might be the last time he could let them know his recognition of their incredible loss and his magnificent gain.

But being the only survivor carried an excruciating burden of guilt, loss and terrible pain.

At last, his lament was over, he paused, still as he could and called, 'goodbye my friends, until the day I know we are due to meet once again.'

The silence fell, his tribute was over.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

 

MR FROG’S AMBLE IN THE DARK

Mr Frog was out later than planned, and was hopping back to the pond when he heard a rustle and a call,

“Help me, someone, help me!”

With caution, he hopped nearer, pausing to listen.

It certainly sounded like someone in trouble, but who?

“Help, please help me! I am over here.”

He hopped closer and saw a snail lying upside down on its shell.

“Oh my, what happened to you?”

“I was having a lovely munch on some fresh runner bean stalks, when I was plucked away by a big crow. I was terrified, as I could not see the ground.

Another crow came and attacked the one carrying me, and he let go. I was falling, falling, then bounced on a small bush out into the open ground, upside down, defenceless. Can you help me?”

“Yes, of course I can.” Mr Frog hopped around the snail, trying to see the best way to help.

“I have got it. If I puff my chest forward, you can reach out and slide yourself upright again. Do not linger too long as I am ticklish, and your slime is difficult to wash off; no disrespect as I know you cannot help it.

Let’s go; quick as you can, as those crows might be back to take both of us this time.”

Mr Frog took a big breath to extend his chest, and the snail reached out and slowly slid upright again.

“Oh, thank you, thank you.”

“OK; enough of that. No time to waste; head for the pond. There is a big rock on the left, with a damp hiding place underneath, big enough for you to stay safe.

I have checked you all over, and your shell is not broken, so you should be ok. I am jumping into the pond to wash this icky slime off. Take care; see you around.”

With a couple of leaps, he disappeared beneath the lily leaves and, after a bit of thrashing around, settled under one.

Ready to capture for supper any stray insects which might be flying around.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Serban Daniela Silvia 

 

ONE JUMP TOO HIGH

On pulling back the pool cover for the first time, on our return to New Zealand, a lone frog was visible in very low water.

Every so often he grabbed hold of a floating rope-like piece of a Norfolk pine tree, hooking his front leg over it, to have a rest.

I wondered how long he had been there.

At the slightest movement, he shot down to the bottom and hid in some dark leaf debris.

Occasionally he left strange footprints in the algae at the bottom of the pool, which was quite artistic and first drew my attention to his presence.

Other times he just bobbed about with minimum movement, head above water, observing all that was going on.

His problem was that he could not leap high enough to leave the pool.

So I decided to help and called out.

‘Please, Mr. Frog let me help you. I am not going to hurt you, but you won’t be able to jump out of the pool on your own, no matter how high you leap.’

First, a couple of wooden planks leaning down into the water were tried, but he had not heard of walking the plank.

‘Mr. Frog, will you please hop onto the plank, then I can lift you out.’

He just disappeared down to the bottom of the pond in terror.

Next, a big tree leaf was cast-off to act as a stepping stone but it failed to encourage him.

He just bobbed up, looked at it and moved further away.

More drastic action was needed with the use of the pool net, and leaf strainer to rescue him.

Thankfully he was scooped up to safety in one go and I was able to catch a glimpse of how handsome he was.

His skin was marked in green, orange, brown, and black.

We eyed each other respectfully for a moment or two.

Then slowly and carefully I removed him, away from the pool, to my neighbour’s fence, where there was a pond on the other side.

There I gently tipped him out.

He leaped high into the air, showing off his agile dancing skills, before disappearing into the bushes.

Who knows, perhaps we might meet again one day, but please, not in the pool, as there may not be anyone there to rescue him.

This little story reminds all of us not to go to pools or rivers on our own.

Also, all of us need to learn to swim.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Serban Daniela Silvia

 

TINY I AM LARGE I WILL BE

I was born so very small and had a battle from the start of life.

My mum gave birth but the rest was up to me.

I was born as big as a bean, with no eyes to see and I had to struggle up to her fur, trying to hang on with all my might till I reached her waist.

Then I thankfully slid into a very special place, where a milk bar waited for me.

I latched on to a teat and fell into a deep sleep, as she moved about to tell her friends, she had a joey in her pouch fast asleep, that was me.

It was to be my home till I was strong enough to leave.

Do you know who I am?

💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

 

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

 

SECRET FLYING VISITOR

A dart of movement in the garden caught my attention.

It was so small, hopping in and out of the bushes, moving as quick as a flash.

Watching to see where its next hop would be.

I wonder what type of bird this new visitor might be?

It must have found something good to eat, or wanted a rest.

I had to wait patiently in the cold, ’til my bird knowledge could be put to the test.

It’s a Jenny Wren! A Jenny Wren!

I wonder if it’s nesting nearby?

What a treat that would be, to watch the hatching of the shy and secretive Jenny Wrens: a pure delight for me!

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

 

FAVOURITE CUP

One sip as my favorite cup,

Touches the lips. from its rim,

Hot refreshing tea is sipped.

Gradually warmth seeps,

Into the wrapped round grip.

Preparing to relax you,

For the emergence of a new day.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo: Pixabay License

 

SEARCHING FOR DAWN

Standing warmly wrapped up on the deck of a ship, leaning on a rail, knees braced for the swinging gentle waves breaking on the bow.

Cheeks brushed by a cool steady breeze. Eyes fixed on the spot of light on the horizon.

Heralding the breaking of a new day, minute by minute pushing the darkness of the old one away.

A new dawn often carries the hope of a clean sheet of new thoughts or actions.

We often search for change as we welcome the arrival of the new dawn.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo by Torsten Dederichs on Unsplash

 

DESERTED WINTER BEACH

The snow-dressed beach few have come to stroll

Leaving it free for seagulls to patrol

Even they are reluctant to fly in search of food to eat.

Just huddled together for warmth in buildings draft proof retreats.

Before being driven by hunger and a competitive streak

To battle one another for food to eat in the ocean or on the street.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo by Discover Worthing

 

THE WITHERING 

The withering and dropping have started, and as the season steadily increases, so have the changes.

The bright colours of the flowers silently fade before the eventual downward plop.

The Earth awaits to embrace and absorb them once more.

A process of renewal carried out year after year since it began its mysterious wake-up time.

This year has been very stressful for all the inhabitants and soil of this precious land.

Let’s hope next year, when these beauties start to appear, we have a better, shared, and safer future planned.

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo by Enes Gundogdu on Unsplash

 

AN AUTUMNAL WALK

A time of beauty, as leaves change colour, and finally leave the trees, twirling their final flight from their lofty perch in the sky.

Each breeze easing them down to the ground.

Blowing them about for a final rustle, and flurry before they crumble into the earth.

Giving nourishment for new trees, plants, insects and fungus to grow in the circle of life.

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo by Anna Almeida

 

THE RIVER

A river passes like shimmering glass as it silently flows, 

Cluttered by boats that do pleasure and relaxation bring.

With birds passing overhead, to land in the trees so green and sing.

This is a day we dream of and hope more this summer will bring.

Cuddled by a sky so blue with white clouds passing by.

Clutching a good book, a glass bubbling with contents of choice.

Knowing all is well in your world, you relax and let your worries go.

🌳💚🌳💚🌳💚🌳💚🌳💚🌳💚🌳💚🌳💚🌳

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen

Photo by Elmer Cañas on Unsplash

 

FALLING LEAVES

The first sight of buds growing high in the trees after the barrenness of winter brings us such pleasure.

When suddenly they burst open into fresh green leaves of various shapes and sizes, announcing the arrival of spring and the departure of winter.

They stay aloft or in clumps of bushes, with gentle breezes or violent gales to keep them actively dancing on their branches.

Giving shade and safe nesting places for the birds, and removing carbon from the air that we breathe for us.

As the summer moves on and the temperature changes, leaves begin their final swaying dance, before falling down to the ground to their slow decay, and final mulching.

Just before the leaves start falling, they change colour into gold, red, and brown, giving us cause to admire them before their complete detachment.

They have a last task to do, to provide food for other plants, trees and insects, plus fungi to enjoy.

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

2025 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen 

Photo: Anna Almeida