
The return of the sun
Soring has sprung
Growing season’s begun
Padre
It was to him a crushing blow
That he was grounded – no place to go
It was a fate he brought on himself
When he broke the dishes on the china shelf
Why did he think that it was okay
To in the kitchen – football to play?
Padre
The strangest things upon the beach you find
Like shiny shells and tangled fishing lines
There are towels and umbrellas of multiple designs
And bathers trying to avoid tan lines
Donuts and candy floss, they’re there too
But I still can’t find my missing shoe
Padre
placid
reservoir smooth
kinetic force disguised
until awakened as torrents
released
Padre
Snowdrops untrampled
Autumn leaves still in place
When was the last time someone came to this place?
Am I the first to see this scene?
Have others not trod this byway serene?
Padre
Waiting for the deluge
Prepared against that day
When the skies will open
Wetting all that’s in its way
It may have been a while
Since lightening split the sky
But I won’t let that fool me
I’m prepared to remain dry
Padre
After a rather heated debate, the Kent Coast Residents Association finally agreed on a novel response to the increasing number of small boat arrivals.
Padre
Please stick to the pedestrian zone
For this place is unsafe for you to roam
Others are focused on finding a space free
Unaware of you or where you might be
So be defensive as you walk
Or better still keep to the other side of the block
Padre
With confidence from the bakery he rode
To take an oversized baguette home – just down the road
But a bus passed close and with a sickening whap
Reduced his French bread into a bap
Padre
Woodshed stocked
And supplies laid in
In anticipation of snows and wind
We’re all prepared
To face winter’s worst
If global warming
Doesn’t get us first
Padre