I've never been much of a worrier,
Others do that far better than I,
Nor am I renowned as a scurrier,
Which is not to imply I don't try.
My small circle of close friends and loved ones
Is diminishing one at a time,
And one of these days
I'll wake up to discover
That it's my turn, and I'm next in line.
But if, indeed, that's the next big adventure,
I hope it's a pleasant surprise.
I'd love to prove, or disprove,
All the theories I've had
About life and love,
And good and bad,
And wisdom and learning,
And ethics and such,
That faith is a pillar
And not just a crutch.
But, of course, I’m not worried,
I don't do that, you see.
"Que será, será",
What will be, will be.
But on the off chance that there is a hereafter,
I'd like to reserve a small space there for me.
And should any of you get there before I do,
Try to grab us a nice window seat with a view.
Categories:
scurrier, introspection,
Form: Rhyme
Sprinting stick legs carry my midday mission
Stiff breeze whips sand, removes thin prints
Bringing crammed crab, grabbed in precision
Urgent payps brief cease brings peace distinct
Assembled nest, scattered pebbles and shells
Ginger plumage scurrier is ever alert mother
Concaves place, away from encroaching swells
Secure dunes' hush is sanctity discovered
In salt hazed mauve dusk, we pace wary guard
Time arrived for tawny fluff puffs to be shown
Harsh beach to danger prone, threat imparted
Leaving nest safety is necessary, wider zones
Buffeted by their new found brilliance, babies float
Skimmed surface of sand, brisk, excited, whisked
Proud Daddy plover observes with deserved gloat
Dedicated duty rewards during moments like this
Written: 25th July 2020
Contest: Bird Personification
Sponsor: Tania Kitchin
Categories:
scurrier, adventure, beach, bird, father,
Form: Personification