she is sunshine
with freckles like a sunflower,
and eyes like leaves,
sweetening my day like sugar.
she keeps me growing.

the vibrant plants
and talkative animals
cleared a path for her.
she followed that path
for a while, then paused.
she sat at the bank of the river
watching the leaves go by.
she placed her fears,
doubts, and troubles
onto these leaves,
whispered "goodbye,"
and let them float away.

A little marimo moss ball.
Unfazed in its glass ball.
Just another peaceful sunny day.
To not go about and enjoy the day.

A lonely marimo moss ball.
Looking in a mirror on the wall.
Noticing nothing has changed.
Isolation is still here, untouched.

Whoah! A stinky ****
In an enclosed room!
Out we go…
To pure fresh air
Ozonal
With a hint of salty sea.

Smell that fresh-cut sappy grass,
Those rustic woods
An acrid hint of fox
Dog and cat
Someone’s perfume lingering in the air.

Things are cooking:
Bacon to **** for,
Baking bread,
Spicy curries
And glorious fish and chips.
Roast beef and lamb
Fast fried food
And coffee
Pervades the air.

Garden blossoms
Traditional roses.
I finger a mint-leaf…

But something is burning!
Ah!
Not the same as the smell of rain.

But don’t ask me.
Ask instead those dogs and cats
With their super-sense of smell.
For Max the Labrador Collie
Always inspects my feet
And heaven knows
What he makes of
That.

Paul Butters

© PB 14\4\2020. ("Fast fried food And coffee" added 18\4).

Oh me, oh my!

A mushroom, so dandy!

It’s curling head, spry



Gold hues like candy

Soft as a dove

And medically handy



What’s not to love?

About a fungi so opulent?

Hope is made of:



Mushrooms so succulent

What a lovely sight

Isn’t fungi excellent?

I sit in the garden
Legs crossed, eyes closed
The sounds of nature flow around me
In an intangible stream
A chirping bird, a trickling creek flows by the roses
Yesterday's rains drip through the vines
I raise my hands up to an imaginary crown
Envisioning myself as a ruler without a frown
Daisies bloom from my palms
Orchids from my moss-green beard
I'll lay in the grasses from sun-up
Sharing stories with the weeds, the sprouts, the dandelions
I inhale the fresh air
Close my eyes once more
And let my daydreams lead me further
Into my kingdom of trees

Forget our inglorious isolation,
Hiding away from terrors unseen.
I see a golden Forsythia
Outside my window.
Sunny daffodils and little blue flowers
Of  unknown name.
Bushes are budding
And turning green.

Bluebottles and bees have been buzzing
As birds flock about
Flipper flapping everywhere.

A barren, frozen desert
Is being transformed
Little by little.
We still have biting winds
Just now
But in the fullness of time
Warmer climes will re-assert themselves.

For summer is coming
As it always does.
No worldly woes will stop it,
Nor they ever will.
Nature has endless patience
And determination.
Sudden Spring is but the start
Of better days.
Believe it.

Paul Butters

© PB 29\3\2020.

The streets are bare as
the cherry blossoms still bloom.
Life will carry on.


A walk in the woods
will still be enjoyable,
while six feet apart.


Slow down and observe
the beat of nature, for it
is good for the soul.