On August 28, 2014, was somewhat of a milestone for me. A one year anniversary, so to speak, as a member of the HP Family. It has been a wonderful, enlightening, and exhilarating ride, and one I hope to stay on for quite some time to come.
To all of you who have taken the time to read my contributions, commenting, or not, THANK YOU!
I write for relaxation, and recreation. For the most part, I try to entertain, to bring a bit of a smile, or perhaps a laugh or two, and if the piece has done that, then the goal has been reached. Have all of my works been "winners?" Of course not. That is just part of the menu. Some meals are good, some aren't. Regardless, I will try to get better. I will "keep my seat on this "Poet's Train" and hope it doesn't stop anytime soon.

Richard Riddle
(I thank the world for all of you! This August will be two years.))

APPLE BLOSSOM

This tiny fairy, let us say has attitude.
Most little things get on her pip!
Sitting amongst fragrant blossom
Is not nice, no pleasure trip.
She has to put up with frilly petals
Leaves and the odd red spider.
It is the constant supply of buds
That to her is the decider.
She would like to go and pray
With the other fairies at the chapel
Not sitting amongst blossom
Waiting for the inevitable apple.
But as with all other fairies
She has her work to do, her duty
To sit there all pink and frilly
Feeling fresh and very fruity.
She tirelessly waits, and she waits
For the blossom buds to flower.
Then it is another waiting game
For the apples to appear very sour.
She once considered jumping ship
And sitting with the Fairy of the Douglas fir
But after some serious and careful thought
Decided that it would not really appeal to her.
But she is happy I suppose
But still would like to alter direction
Is it little wonder then that this Fairy
Has such a rosy red complexion.

Guarding the blossom
On cool summer nights
The gem of the loganberry, raspberry
And currants.
A sweet little fairy, wings as pink as fruit
Flitting between thorns, tearing her skirt
Coaxing the spider to repair her wings
With silken threads from his web.
Her lace, his face, her grace, his pace
Her terms, his place.
The fairy of the bramble,
A delicate little one.
Her Song, she did wrong, his legs, so long
The fairy of the bramble.