Big Bang, Universe, Sun and Earth
Life and Death follows Birth.
All over in an instant
Before we become non-existent.

Nothing doesn’t have a colour
Have to ask why we bother.
Maybe I shouldn’t be so cryptic
Making things so Apocalyptic.

The Earth will fry
When the sun fills the sky.
Into a red giant swollen
All history stolen.

So better not think about this,
Just fill our lives with bliss.
Enjoy every day,
That’s the only way.

Paul Butters

© PB 1\7\2023.

The sultry summer sun ***** all moisture out of the soil
To leave cracked earth: mini earthquakes
Soil crumbling into choking dust.
Brown lawns say it all.
Suffocatingly hot indoors
And baking outside.
Desert threat.

It’s the height of Summer
And even the wind is suddenly warm
On this humid, balmy day.
Bumble bees buzz about
On my Cotoneasters, Valerians, Geraniums
And Wild Lavatera.
Broken backed Lavatera
From a deluge
The other night.

Rather this close heat
Than the icy blasts of Winter
Better to slumber
In comfort,
Grab a cold beer
And enjoy the Sun.

Paul Butters

© PB 24\6\2023.

It might well be that the cosmos exists
Only because we do too
And we sense the universe around us.
It’s like Schrodinger’s Cat:
Only existing for sure when we
Open The Box.
Or that Double Slit Quantum Particle Thing
By Thomas Young
Where Quanta seem to know
When we are watching.

Those glorious sunrises and sunsets
What we live for
Only appear
Because we are here.

Without us there is soulless light
Shining upon indifferent clouds
In a realm of lifeless gas, dust
And rock.

We are the ones who see
The awesome beauty of the sky
And all beneath it.
The ugly stuff too.
It is ourselves who decide what is beautiful
And what is but a scar on the landscape.

It’s a shame that we are here
For such a fleeting moment
In the wider scope of things:
This eternity.
So we must pass the baton on
To the next generation.

Our only hope is that the children
Will love the world
Better than we have done.

Paul Butters

© PB 30\5\2023.

Singularity
Then Big Bang inflating to
Our Universe now

Paul Butters

© PB 17\4\2023.

They’re really rockin’ in Bradford,
Off the Pennine Way.
Deep in the heart of Yorkshire
And all round Robin Hood’s Bay.
All over South Ossett
Down there to New Farnley.
Roast beef and Yorkie Puddings,
God’s County Yay!

Yull see ‘em rambling near Ilkley,
Right to the county line,
Sheffield steel and Wednesday –
A football team so fine.
Better still, Leeds United,
Greatest club of all time.

Yorkshire, Kings of Cricket,
Oh what a boon!
Get down that wicket,
We’ll be champs by June.
Down a ginnel or snicket,
See our Olympic Champs.
Coal Miner Picket,
Relight those lamps.

Racing pigeons and ferrets,
Stereotypes tha knows.
Over t’top in Lancashire,
Them there’s our foes.
We’re the greatest county,
Our pride really glows.
We know you all do hate us,
It keeps us on our toes.

So we’ll be rockin’ in Yorkshire,
What more can I say?
Us Tykes're as barmy as Barnsley,
So I’ll be on my way.

Paul Butters

(With due thanks to Chuck Berry and also The Beach Boys)
© PB 2\5\2016.  Slightly Amended 14\4\2023.

Butterflies flutter and flitter
As wasps and bees zip about.
Yet sloths hang heavy
From lofty trees
As languid lions siesta in the shade.

Parched, hot deserts boil like iron in a furnace
Under a merciless sun
While glaciers freeze at the poles
In the black cold dark.

Soft breezes whisper amongst the grass and trees
But on another day the wind howls
Like a Banshee
Tearing those trees up by the roots
In a whirling chaos.

A tiny ant scuttles along the ground
Unaware of the towering Giraffe above
As it stretches its head into clouds of high leaves.

A day of angry black clouds
Is soon followed by a clear blue ocean sky.
For anything that can happen, will happen.
So expect the unexpected.
And glory in it all.

Paul Butters

© PB 3\4\2023.

It’s blue sky brightly sunny
As we await the Easter Bunny.
Still some clouds about
Rain might have a shout.

Remembering when Jesus died on the cross
Only to beat Death
So no longer a loss.

Let’s throw off our shackles too
Enjoy those Easter eggs,
Quaff a golden brew
And drain the barrel to the dregs.

It might be a crime to tire of rhyme
But give me a minute or two
Rhyme isn’t a favourite of mine
So I might not carry this through.

Forsythias, Daffies and now Mahonias
Gold flowers full of sun
Thinking of Begonias
Adding to the fun.

The Amaryllis must be out
Giving us a mighty shout
Other flowers too
What a lovely view.

**** and Robins are flitting around
Making lots of birdsong sound.
We’ve just sprung forward,
As you know,
So Nature is putting on
A bit of a show.

Symbolic eggs will soon be eaten
That chocky taste just can’t be beaten.
So enjoy Easter everyone.
Let’s hope we’ll be basking in the sun.

Paul Butters

© PB 30\3\2023.