All that is me…

In pen I plough my lonesome furrow
Synapses alive and the brain set alight
Willing an audience to interpret correctly
‘The meaning’, tis always The Poet’s hard plight.

Often the words that are written on paper
Take on a new life with the nuance of speech
If only the reader could hear it as I do
But then there’d be little left for me to teach.

Oh for a lovely warm Spring morning I say
What is invoked in the spirit that’s you
I hear the converse of snowdrop and crocus
And try then to pass on the messages too.

Some are times when the words just won’t form
I can’t find the flow to fit with my thoughts
Still though the writing finds ways to the paper
Landing as ink in shapes of all sorts.

Thus I continue to put my pen to paper
Scribbling new odes for the reader to see
And all the words that I lay there before you
Are just a reflection of all that is me.

©Joe Wilson – All that is me…2015

Moonlight acrostic…



Moonlight casts a beam of light

Over the dark and snow-covered land

Offering light to shadowy strangers

Needing to get where they’ve planned

Lending an eerie feeling all round

In shadows the night creatures hide

Giving the strangers a really wide berth

Hopping back to their burrows and going inside

The clouds move along and the moonlight is gone.


©Joe Wilson – Moonlight acrostic…2015

Seasonal Acrostic…



 Winter has dumped her bounty upon us again
 In snow-covered landscapes which to some are a pain
‘Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible’
Tractors pulling cars and more patients in hospital
Eventually it thaws and it all goes quite hoary
Returning our pothole-filled roads in all of their glory.

Spring is on its way though, so be of good cheer
Plants that were hidden now start to appear
Remember resolutions you made at New Year
In front of your friends who’ll remind you I fear
Now get on your bike as you promised you’d do
Get fitter this year, it’s a good thing to do.

Summer comes in with a rush of bright colour
Up comes the grass and the mower bag gets fuller
Mimosa and marigolds are out in full show
Mild summer breezes are starting to blow
Even as the nights start to draw in again
Red skies at night hold off much of the rain.

Autumn arrives with the wind through the trees
Unsticking leaves that have held on with ease
Taking them all on a trip through the air
Upstart that it is drops some here and some there
Many leaves are golden, others are bright red
Now dying back ready for winter instead.


©Joe Wilson – Seasonal Acrostic…2015

An ode to trees…

Slim grows the Willow sapling
before it blossoms wide
while through the gate of mighty Oak
the Ivy grows up by its side,
and seated on this chair of Beech
I gaze at the Rowan berries
reduce in number as I watch
as birds are making merry,
and walking round the meadow
where Lime trees grow quite tall
the Redwoods push up to the sky
to dominate them all.
We pass the nearby churchyard
where Yew trees always grew,
the tree that has the sorry task
of saying goodbye to you.


©Joe Wilson – An ode to trees… 2014

November morning…



Golden skies greet the land
as night throws off its mantle
dawn slowly emerges from the shadows
to welcome the new day so gentle
trees sway in the soft breeze
while birds chatter as they wake
to the bright sunshine that is
a beautiful warm November day.
As the day moves on the blue tits fly
having taken their daily fill of nuts and seeds
but feeders, still bearing their bounty,
are soon fallen upon in frenzied melee
by sparrows and starlings, a riotous sight,
till soon they too will fly away
at the start of evening dusk display.
All day long they constantly chatter.
All day long they feed.
All day long we are blessed by their company,
and thus we are always grateful.

©Joe Wilson – November morning… 2014


In country lanes…

Redwing - Derrington J Wilson  Nikon D80
Redwing – Derrington
J Wilson
Nikon D80

Near Derrington in country lanes
where hawthorn rests as Autumn wanes.

The redwings come and take their fill
gorge on berries ‘gainst Winter’s chill.

The cattle low and chew the cud
a weasel kills and draws fresh blood.

Carp to bottoms of ponds descend
as fields adopt their Winter trend.

A fox or two may yet appear
circling buzzards in skies so clear.

Though both are on the hunt for food
death in nature can seem so crude.

A toad may croak across the pond
hidden from view by reedy frond.

An hour one spends amidst all this
Rewards the soul with utter bliss.


©Joe Wilson – In country lanes… 2014

The shot…

David Ware
David Ware


I was lying in ambush being totally still
When the red deer wandered into the glade
A handsome young buck about three years old
With fine youthful antlers he proudly displayed.

He was among a few other young juvenile deer
But he was clearly the one that stood out
And in a few years time at the annual rut
He’d be a new leader I’d got no doubt.

He already stood with that majestic stance
On his antlers the rights showed fine bearing
And when the others trotted with him for company
It was almost a smile he was wearing.

But he was mine now and I’d earned him well
I’d waited for him the whole of the night
And there in the centre of my reticule
He was standing alone in full sight.

I was fully prepared for what I was to do
My kit all in camouflage as was I
And just at the moment the young buck looked up
I shot and caught him in his perfect eye.

The slight sound from my camera spooked him
In a flash he vanished into thin air
But when I looked at the screen on the camera
His image was noble and was there.

It is ten years now since I shot him
And a fine leader he went on to be
I sometimes catch sight of him up on the hill
And just for a while he’s looking at me.


©Joe Wilson – The shot… 2014