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Paul Butters May 25
Garden aromas
Yet taken for granted
Amongst a spiritual haven
Of sacred trees
Resplendently coloured flowers
And glorious grass.

Aromas of blossoms and dew,
Cut savannahs
Rain and drought
Foxes and cats.
Doggy Paradise
Where they can sniff
And scuffle,
Dreaming of truffle.

A Summer retreat
You cannot beat,
Better for a pond
To strengthen that bond.
Just sit or stroll
And soak it all in.
There is plenty of time.
You can only win.

Paul Butters

© PB 25\5\2021.
That peaceful garden retreat.
Paul Butters May 13
Blinded by the Sun.
My eyes scream in pain.
But then they ease
And as I soak up the scene
My spirit lifts.

All is brightly lit
In glorious sunshine.
Lush green foliage
Reflecting those golden rays
Provoking images
Of sunny beaches
Swaying palms
On remote tropical isles.

Under the dome of a hazy light-blue sky
Bedecked with fluffy fair-weather clouds
We bask in the sun, sun, sun.

What more can you ask for
On a balmy summer day?
Well, maybe a cool pint of ale.

Paul Butters

© PB 13\5\2021.
Love summer
Paul Butters May 10
Scientists say that everyone dies,
Having a set lifespan,
With the only possible exception being
Some unique jellyfish
Who regenerate like Doctor Who.

Yet religious folk claim
We will have eternal life
So long as we believe
In Their God (whoever).

So who can we believe?
Are any of them right
At all?

Is death the same for all?
The same for a man or woman
As for a blade of grass or withering rose?
The same for all men and women?
For humans and animals alike?

Have we been told the truth
About this and other matters?
The questions go on:
Conundrums whirling around our minds
As we inwardly crave Salvation.

All we have now,
To cling on to,
Is good old Hope.
Faith has no certainty
For me.
I never kidded myself
About that.
There’s only Hope, Hope,

Paul Butters

© PB 10\5\2021.
There is always Hope
Paul Butters May 9
The sea sweeps to the far horizon:
Infinity’s edge,
As endless waves lap onto the shore.
Above us gulls wheel and scream
Hunting for prosaic fish and chips.
They ****** them
From hapless humans
Down below.

And the breakers keep breaking.
Elsewhere the ocean rages,
Storming the cliffs
With spraying cascades of water
And thrashing rain.

Here today, though, it is calm and clear.
Up above we see an even greater ocean:
That of blue sky
And nightly black space.

Up there we truly look
To infinity
Eternity too.
Beyond our comprehension.

We people are but tiny specks
On island beaches
Insignificant particles
Of humanity
Lost in a universe
That knows no bounds.
Yet here to enjoy
Those golden dawns and dusks,
Fanned by freshening breezes –
Much gentler versions of gales and hurricanes.

Never forget that the sea is mighty.
Just love it
When it’s in a peaceful mood:
Soak up the spirit of surf
As you watch those endless waves.

Paul Butters

© PB 8\5\2021.
I live by the sea....
Paul Butters Mar 20
Over thirty thousand years ago a pregnant she-wolf
And her mate lay hidden in the grass
Watching some of our human ancestors
Hunt with spears, bows and arrows.
They were very impressed
But more than that so hungry
That they followed those humans home
Hoping to steal some meat.

They were just about to ****** that food
When a humans appeared
All around them.
They were caught!
All they could do was look up with pleading eyes:
“Please don’t **** us! We just want food.”
Seeing one of them was heavily pregnant
Those humans presumed them starving
And threw them meat
Then let them go!

Hungry again, they went back for more
And the humans fed them
And even stroked them.
This was so much better
Than having to search for prey
So often without reward.

And as time passed they took to accompanying these humans
On their hunts
Then ferreting out some prey for them to shoot
Rounding animals up
And retrieving those shot down by arrows.

Soon the rest of their pack joined them
And the female wolf had her pups
Near the human camp
Where it was safe.
She taught her pups
To plead for food and care
With their eyes and whines.

Those wolves remained forever,
Generation after generation
Each litter getting cuter
And softer
And more loving
Towards mankind.

And so they evolved
Into a seemingly endless variety
Of “Dogs”.
From Rottweilers to tiny Poodles,
German Shepherds and Collies to Chihuahuas.
They became known as “Man’s Best Friend”,
Showing us unconditional Love
And loyalty:
A bond like no other.
Even evolving raised eyebrows
And deeply sad eyes
To attract our love and care.
Domesticating themselves
Yet begging the question
Who is really “the master”?
My money is on

Paul Butters

© PB 20\3\2021.
Inspired by a Chris Packham documentary on Animal Communication.
Paul Butters Mar 18
Shapely steaming trees make clouds of their own:
Raining daily on the rainforest.
Rumbling jungles serenaded by a clichéd cacophony of birdsong.

I love all trees wherever they are:
Pinewoods in temperate zones,
Palms on tropical isles,
Ancient oaks full of magic.

See breeze kissed canopies high in the sky,
Forests deep in mysterious gloom.
Let Attenborough portray the rest.
Tarzan and Robin Hood to reign forever.
Keep your axes and saws away.
Let’s plant as many trees as we can
And watch them grow.

Paul Butters

© PB 18\3\2021.
Written early one Thursday morning.
Paul Butters Mar 10
Leeds United on the attack
No sign of holding back
No matter what the score
We keep knocking on that door

Slicing through opposing lines
Creating chances many times
We really should score many more
That would bring us to the fore

Bamford bangs them in of course
Making us a formidable force
Get those shooting boots on, one and all
Let’s get past that defensive wall

Raphinha brings Brazilian magic
His silky skills are so fantastic
Kalvin runs the midfield show
Gives our team a rapid flow

Bielsa’s brain and dedication
Provides us with a firm foundation
He has us marking man for man
Keeping to the pressing plan

People hated us in the past
Now they love us, no more typecast
Strange to be so often praised
Enjoying having our profile raised

So here’s to Leeds, our beloved team
Hoping soon to be the cream
Keep going you men in white
Aiming for a future bright

Paul Butters

© PB 10\3\2021.
Marching On Together
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