Drains  overflowing.
Manholes  spouting.
Water  bubbling.
Rising  and  leaping.
Through  front  doors.
Swelling  and  sweeping..
Th en  turning  and  twisting.
All  through  the  house.
Furniture  ruined.
Carpets  all  sloppy..
Then  it  goes  gushing.
Out  the  back  door.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

The Birthwaite Gardeners


The Birthwaite gardeners
are at it again
They work so hard
they look in pain
They have hung some bags
to protect their seeds
They don't mind the birds
taking the weeds
They dig by night
they dig by day
As they go along
their merry way


Keith Wilson     July 2017

An  inanimate  object.

I'm  a  lovely  tree  in  summer.
Pure  emerald  green  leaves,
sweeping  down  towards  earth.

I'm  in  a  quiet  corner  of  the  park.
Away  from  the  maddening  crowd.

Spring  is  nice  when  flowers
grow  below  my  trunk.

Winter  is  cold  and  dank.
With  snow  and  rain  streaming  down.

In  winter  they  call  me  skeletal.
With  my  curled  and  twisted  branches.

At  least  I'm  sheltered  here.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

Spring  is  now  resting.
After  some  lovely  spring  days.
It  is  now  snowing.
Typical  British  weather.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK  2016.

The Hydrangeas bushes
I see from my window
are a vivid blue color
Hot and humid today
so they do stand out

By the way
some Hydrangeas
are pink
The colors seem to come
from different soil conditions

Solid leather ball
heavy when wet
muddy pitches
unlke today's perfect grass
I played goalkeeper
got knocked out a few times
when charged
Not allowed now
Considered barbaric

Thanks  for  supporting  Snowdrops.
I  only  did  a  short  one.
Because  I was  feeling  off  color.
Many  thanks  again.

Keith  Wilson. .  Windermere.  UK  2017.

I heard the pheasant
yesterday
but
could not see him

The stunning colour in our spring garden
Is absolutely breathtaking

Keith Wilson, Windermere, April 2017

Keswick to Kendal by bus
Boarded at Keswick
few people aboard
lovely and peaceful
just watching
as the amazing scenery goes by
At Ambleside things change dramatically
an army of unruly schoolchildren
arrive onboard
The whole journey turns into a nightmare
I was glad when we reached sunny Kendal

It was quite a shock
seeing the lovely artwork
of a luminous train
with all the strange syllables
across the bottom edge

An  inanimate  object.

I'm  a  picture  hung  on  a  wall.
Hope  I'm  secure  I  might  fall.
People  stand  and  stare.
Like  the  horse  that  stands  up  there.
They  never  mention  my  lovely  frame.
They  think  I  am  just  fair  game.
Sometimes  they  move  me  all  about.
I  just  cry  and  sometimes  shout.
It  gets  so  lonely  sat  up  here.
Never  get  food  or  a  nice  cool  beer.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

The  leaves  now  saying
a  sad  farewell.

To  the  trees  they
have  adorned  so  well.

Yes,  autumn  glory  is  here.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2017.

I stand in the splendour
Of my summer garden
The scent of honeysuckle wafting
Across in the evening breeze
The late sun casting shadows
Across the ivy-clad wall
Hydrangeos and roses appear
To steal the show
But many other flowers
Are staking their claim
As storm clouds gather
An eerie feel descends
A feeling of peace and tranquility
Now reigns
As rain begins to fall

Keith   Wilson   Birthwaite Flats

You've only got one mother
faithful kind and true
Cherish her with all your heart
your guiding light
right from the start
She's there for you in good or bad
she picks you up when you are sad
she gives you lots of loving care
to help you as you grow
A loving word a tender smile
making everything worthwhile

Spring  the  great  awakening.
After  the  winter  slumbers.
Everything  springs  to  life.
Animals,  birds, and  all
the  wonderful  spring  flowers.
Trees  slowly  starting  to  bud.
Even  humans  start  to  stir,
out  of  a  winter  trance.
A  truly  magical  time.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

I  read  a  obituary  in  the  newspaper.
Of  a  long  lost  friend.

It  hit  me  off  the  page.
Like  an  arrow  through  my  heart.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

I  lie  peacefully  in  Iquez  Military  Cemetery.
Near  Arras  N­orthern  France

They  say  I  was  a  very  remarkable  soldier.­
From  the  First  World  War.

I  was  born  in  Brighton  Engla­nd.
And  later  joined  a  Yorkshire  regiment.

So  it  was  str­ange  that  I  had  to  die.
in  a  Scottish  regiment.

Never  m­ind  those  days  are
now  long  gone

Keith  Wilson  Windermere ­ UK  2016.

Lady said
"Shut up about the storm
else you'll be in one"
Charming, I thought

Princess  smooth  cool  Princess.
Will  you  ever  be.
Contented  through  your  lifetime.
To  forever  stay  with  me.

Princess  perfect  Princess.
Your  head  I  gently  pat.
As  you  purr  softly  on  my  knee.
A  contented  little  cat.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2017.

Early morning
Sitting on the bench

A blackbird came along
Stuffed his beak with straw

Then flew away
Building a nest I suspect

Keith Wilson

The  farmer  sows  his  seed.
Hoping  for  a  good  crop.

As  the  saying  goes.
A  wet  and  windy  May.
Fills  the  barn  with  corn  and  hay.

May  is  germination  time.
He  prays  for  wet  and  windy  May.
But  we  hope  for  nice  sunny, Spring  weather.

It's  the  same  in  life  you  see.
We  must  sow  our  seeds.
To  reach  our   goals.

The  secret  is.
Never  to  give  up, just  keep  going.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere. UK  2016.

My  paper  man  retires  soon.
The  thought  of  it  fills  me  with  gloom.

I'll  miss  him  so  on  Monday  nights.
The  time  we  put  the  world  to  rights.

We  talked  of  war  and  peace  and  drugs.
Of  bygone  days  before  the  thugs.

He  came  in  wind  and  rain  and  hail.
With  a  treasury  of  fascinating  tales.

He's  seventy  now  it's  time  to  part.
But  I'll  hold  him  close  within  my  heart.

He's  worked  so  hard  he  deserves  a  rest.
In  this  mad  world  he's  been  the  best.

The  years  will  pass  I'll  not  forget.
His  happy  smile  will  linger  yet.

Happy  retirement  Mr  Brown.
A  true  friendship  I  have  found.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

The  early  Azaleaus    are  blooming
in  the  garden.

A  rich  deep  purple  color.

Quite early in  late  February

But  we  have  had  a  very  mild  winter
here  in  the  Lake  District.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere. UK. 2017.

I dropped my wifi
on the blackbird
and it didn't feel so good
I was worried about him
in the present climate
I thought I would leave the door open
so he could call anytime
Happy days!

The Old Oak stands
in isolated splendour
In the far corner
of the garden

Skeletal in winter
beautiful in summer
must be at least
one hundred and fifty years old

I  walked  under  clear  blue  skies.
My  feet  making  footprints  in  the  golden  sands.
    
I  shaded  my  eyes  and  peered  across.
At  inky-blue  mountains  stretching
Endlessly  beyond  the  vast
Expanse  of  water.

Seashells  scattered  at  random
Lay  embedded  in  the  soft  sand
Showing  off  many  beautiful  colors

I  sat  for  awhile  and  dozed  fitfully
Listening  to  the  soft  murmuring
Of  the  gentle  incoming  tide.

The  tranquillity  was  finally
Interrupted  by  an  excited
Yell  from  a  small  boy  fisherman
Who  had  hooked  a  minnow.

As  it  grew  cold  I  walked  on
With  a  clear  and  refreshed  mind.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

Red headed
fancily dressed
All of eight
four feet tall

I was all of six.
when at ten years
She emigrated
to Windermere

Now she's my next door neighbor
I emigrated too
After eighty years
We're both in Windermere

Crowds gather in the waiting train
Kids fidgeting
Mothers panicking
Man with eyes of steel
glares at me from the opposite seat
Suddenly the train lurches forward
quickly gathering speed
All the tension seems to lift
Kids settle down
Mothers look out of the window
Man opposite puts his head back
and closes his eyes
Yes, the journey has now begun

The grass is looking
strikingly green
in the autumn sunshine

Its a spring-like
March morning
Spring is on its way

Nature  never  ceases  to  amaze  me.
This  week  I  saw  a  pair  of  mallard  ducks.
They  were  bathing  in  the  puddles,
outside  my  window.
They  were.
Splashing  and  thrashing.
Playing  and  spraying.
Having  a  rare  old  time.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

We have all written
a poem
on stones
sprinkled
in the garden
The ink is unaffected
by the weather
however
Nobody seems to care
Perhaps
we should put them
on show
somewhere

Time flies
In forty three days
I'll be eighty five
but I've been feeling old
since I was seventy nine
It's hard to concentrate
all the time
with this mind of mine

What  is  sleep.
Is  it  a  night  long  restful  sleep.
Something  I  never  get.

I  just  lie  tossing  and  turning,
ranting  and  raving.

Nightmares,  and  blasts,
from  the  past.

Oh  what  I'd  give  for
a  good  nights  sleep.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

10  words.

Dull,dank, and  wet.
  Septembers  now  arrived.
In  full  force.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK  2017.

Door opened
"Beg pardon"
said the lady
looking quite embarrassed
as she quietly
closed the door

Why  do  they  go  mad  
on  easter  bunnies.
When  it's  the  birds
that  lay  the  eggs.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

I saw
the other side
of nature
yesterday
A sparrow hawk
swooped down
and
took out
a pigeon
ate it all up
There were feathers
everywhere
That was the cruel side
of nature

I was reading this book
Was it an illusion?
I was drawn like a magnet;
I couldn not stop reading
I was bound to finish sometime
but
there was a problem
with the Quantum

Very aggressive birds
even with their own partners
The evil squawk
reminds me of witches and death
They are constantly chasing
small birds away
They fight for position
whilst trying to bathe
in the fountain
They fight for scraps of food
lying around

The Birthwaite Ghost is on the prowl
See her glide hear her howl

Laboured footsteps can be heard
plodding on without a word

Drifting on just like a dream
bringing fear to the independent living team

Perhaps a resident from the past
coming home to roost at last

Clouds bring beauty to our skies
Causing brilliance at sunrise

White wispy clouds are very nice
Containing rain has solid ice

Lots of them can form a  sheet
To develop some storms that just might meet

Clouds make beauty at sunset time
Developing silver linings fine

Clouds are very important to us
Saving us from sunburn and skin cancers

Keith Wilson

The first day
of autumn
a cold dark
dank morn

Summer's
a distant memory
and winter's
becoming born

The deer was in the garden today
getting some exercise

Never  cut  down  a  healthy  tree.
Man  himself  is  ruining  the  planet.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

Do  you  have  one  I  could  borrow.
I  could  bring  it  back  ­tomorrow.
I'd  only  need  it  for  a  day.
It  seems  that  mine­  has  gone  away..

So  I  would  be  most  grateful.
If  just  ­for  a  little  while.
You  could  see  your  way  to  lending  m­e.
Just  for  today  your  smile.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  U­K.2016.

I met a man yesterday
He was a large man
with the sort of outdoor face
you might find
on a mountain
He asked about a destination
I believe I sent him the wrong way
I'm so sorry

The geese flew over, early morning
in strict formation
There seemed to be more than usual
Perhaps a dozen

Everyone sat quiet
around the table
writing
about death
nature
or whatever