Hello, there, little chameleon friend;
Did you come to keep me company?
Scurrying along the redwood rail,
Have you read this book or
Are you just to look
For your buddies of long ago?
You are so green, and easily seen,
Camouflage is not your intent;
You got out of breath, and yet
Your hot pink throat stretches and jets
And satisfies.
You look at me but hope to see
The ladybugs that once dwelt in the daisies.
Where have they gone, along
With the horny toads that shared your faucet.
Will the doodle bugs soon disappear
From under their rocks?
It seems to me, you see, you have a tear in your eye;
And I know we've both outgrown
The life we have known and cried
Too many goodbyes.
Categories:
doodlebugs, environment, loss,
Form: I do not know?
l decided to write a little poem today about when my late mom and dad told me about the time when, as a newly young married couple, they climbed out of their Anderson Shelter built in their back garden during WW2, to find their house badly damaged.
The Anderson Shelter.
Shards of glass and splintered wood
and wardens struggling through the mud
the 'all clear' wail that died away
in echo's walls, we had to stay.
Attuned attention we turned our ear
as doodlebugs our greatest fear
and clung to box in case were gassed
and held our heads to measured blast.
The holes in walls and roof ripped off
and dust exhumed with every cough
we held hands tight for what we'd see
from metal tomb as we climbed free.
Our home destroyed and belongings gone
but no one hurt, not single one
we don't look back, as days were bad
we survived it all , for that we're glad.
Categories:
doodlebugs, miracle, world war ii,
Form: Rhyme