The Trumpet
A friend fell and smashed up his teeth and jaw,
And ended up in 'casualty' what's more,
The surgeon came to sew up his damaged face,
And put his teeth and jaw back into place.
He asked the surgeon, if he would be able to play the trumpet,
No problem at all, the surgeon said, superbly, that I can bet.
Oh, how amazing, said my friend, Gosh, I must tell my wife,
Because, I've never ever played a trumpet, in my life.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Gentle Winds
Green fields edged with hedgerows,
Wild flowers enticing the bees,
Yellow buttercups and daisies,
Undulate in the evening breeze.
Small shrubs and dark dense thickets,
Trees so tall, with branches stout,
Even they can move with alacrity,
When the air currents are about.
These gentle winds are refreshing,
And stir all nature's wondrous art,
They cool the heat of the evening,
And calm the beat of the heart.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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This River
Reflections in the water, flowing,
Directions for the way, its knowing,
Connections with the breeze that’s blowing,
As this river travels on.
Confusion as the birds do flutter,
Intrusion and some shrews do scutter,
Profusion of flies, fish do splutter,
As this river travels on.
Creation of wealth there to be seen,
Location perfect, beauty serene,
Elation, sparkling aquamarine,
As this river travels on.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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So Sublime!
Photo shoot,
Hey! That’s cute.
Smile please,
say ‘Cheese’!
Click, click.
Super pic.
Camera shy?
not this guy!
Has all the right angles,
Has romantic tangles.
Top model.
What a doddle.
On agents books.
Has the looks.
Icon of style.
Ooohhhhhh! That smile,
Say ‘Cheese’!
again please.
Get me the sal volatile.
I’ve gone weak bodily,
[...] Read more
poem by Ernestine Northover
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His Ego!
Ferdinand Frog was all agog,
He'd seen a female creature green,
And jumping sprightly from his log,
Was goggle eyed and very keen.
He, creeping up, planted a kiss,
Then everything became all blurred,
He should have been feeling utter bliss,
He didn't know what had occurred.
His ego was all bruised and battered,
His body bounced into the road,
And he was absolutely shattered,
For 'she' turned out to be a toad!
poem by Ernestine Northover
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One Yearly Miracle
A tiny bud, with power, bursts forth,
to signal the arriving spring.
One yearly miracle of faith,
now that winter’s on the wing.
All others follow in its wake,
filling branches with such fresh hope,
And each new tree competes to shine
in a forest’s kaleidoscope.
Gradually they grow green and plush,
showing leaves of various shapes,
A finishing touch, pictured in
earth’s verdant rich sweeping landscapes.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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White Against White
A polar bear treads warily across the ice,
In search of food.
Anything that he can acquire, would well suffice,
If something’s viewed.
Out in this vast isolated arctic expanse,
Where winds howl loud.
He waits, aloof, facing the roar in solid stance,
So strong and proud.
White against white, is seen, in this cold world of snow.
He travels far.
Cruising this frosted landscape where blue waters flow.
His Shangri La.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Strings Of My Heart
On the keys of a piano,
your fingers play upon the strings of my heart.
Such music fills my soul,
with your sweet notes.
You are the central 'essence' of me,
although we are, so far apart.
Your love vibrates with clarity,
as if a great concerto, is playing, in some vast auditorium.
A symphony floats within my head,
and I hear this 'love' of yours,
it plays my tunes,
and resounds around my 'staccato' afternoons.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Infinite Beauty
Looking over the fields towards the Sun,
Observing that the rain had just begun,
A freshness seemed to permeate the air,
And all that one could do was, stand and stare,
As something magical crept across the skies,
A vision that was reflected in my eyes.
A sight of infinite beauty, there to see,
One of the wonders given to us, for free.
Lovely colours blending, like a dream,
In subtle hues, an arched rainbow supreme.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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So Sweet A Song
A golden star hung in the sky,
And sang to the child a lullaby.
So sweet a song, that the boy did sleep
Alongside the donkey and bleating sheep.
Fresh hay, so soft, was his cradle bed,
Within a cold and damp cattle shed.
And his Mother, in her deep joy, wept,
As vigil over here babe, she kept.
A golden star hung in the sky,
And shone so bright to signify
That here did lay a Holy King,
Who gives us life everlasting.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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