Pleasant Place

1.  A Pleasant Place

We all need a pleasant place to go when the seriousness of this life drains,
A pleasant place where some wholesome distraction takes our mind off our aches and pains.
Yes, it may be a sunny spot where warming rays lift our spirits, bathe our eyes,
Or a quiet relaxing spot where we regain our strength and restlessness dies.

In other words, somewhere where we can daydream, even midst pleasant surroundings,
A place where there’s a bubbling brook, a bushy grove, and a bird that sweetly sings.
Yes, a place that heals, a favourite spot, perhaps, an oasis midst the strain,
Where clouds recede and skies become blue, and creative thought refreshes our brain.

By Lance Landall

2.  Wherever You Might Go

When you pass another person, leave behind a little cheer, a hug or smile,
And where there’s some hurting soul, or Nature’s amusing antics, linger awhile.
'Cause we were born to love and care, to embrace the joys and hope of life, and share,
And all made sweeter where our heart is clean, and another’s load we help to bear.

So live like a child and skip through life, swinging on lamp posts, stomping in puddles,
Laughing and singing, painting, writing or sculpturing, and enjoying cuddles.
Yes, treasure that innocence, adventure, any moment that promises fun,
So that wherever you might go, there’s a chirpy chorus and a beaming sun.

By Lance Landall

3.  Take A Jar

Take a jar and fill it full of loose change for those buskers and beggars one sees,
Or fill it full of homemade jam and give it to a neighbour, for such will please.
Or maybe you could fill it full of cookies for when a visitor turns up,
Who some chilled fruit juice in a glass would also love, or a hot drink in a cup.

Yes, take a jar and fill it with others in mind, and call it "The Kindness Jar,"
One that can take a sizable quantity so that its goodies will go far.
And then fill it again and again so that it won’t run out of what will please,
And that kindness jar will always reward you, truly bless whenever you sneeze.

By Lance Landall

4.  A Special Kind Of Suitcase

I wish I had a suitcase full of answers for every problem, any cry,
One that I could open when any troubled, hurting or weary soul passed by.
And into that case I would quickly reach with a willing heart and seeking hand,
Thereby removing their worry, pain or fatigue, enter joy refreshed and tanned.

Oh yes, how I wish I had such a suitcase, I always waiting visibly,
Or taking it wherever I had cause to wander; it never far from me.
But rather, it just an arm’s length away, or within my very grip, and I
Not letting that suitcase run out of answers that anyone’s need would supply.

By Lance Landall

5.  What Is Life, But...

What is life, but a gentle breeze blowing on one’s face and then fanning out and around one’s ears,
The Earth seemingly alive and saying so, and the warming rays of a summer sun that cheers.
And with such, a beautiful clear blue sky, blossoms decking trees and flowers lining flowerbeds,
Yes, Nature abuzz with excitement and happy cries coming from playful, bobbing younger heads.

Oh, what is life but those sights and sounds that gladden the heart, those strolls down a welcome country lane,
Or that easygoing bike ride through Nature’s finery and 'neath a chirpy treetop refrain.
And yes, in the delightful company of a friend, a full picnic hamper at the ready,
Nothing like partaking of Nature whilst enjoying Nature, such innocent and yet heady,

And healing, 'cause there’s nothing like natural therapy, Nature’s therapeutic skill renown,
And the answer to that stress and pressure that’s found within every city or busy town.
Hence that exodus come each weekend, the country or seaside teeming with tired bodies and minds,
'Cause such is where restorative benefits come in abundance, and where peace and calm one finds.

Yes, be it the country or seaside, rolling hills, heaving swells, inland dew or salty sea spray,
Such teasing the senses, filling one with awe, and seemingly more so when it’s out-of-the-way.
And that meaning, those quiet, cosy, romantic hideaways where three's a crowd and two company,
Be they honeymoon couples or pairs of aging lovebirds, 'cause what is life, but such chemistry.

By Lance Landall

6.  Every Day A Happy Day

I wish I could inject people full of sunshine, they ablaze with warmth beaming from head to toe,
Their yellow rays falling on their fellowman, the world full of “Howdy Do’s” or a bright “Hello.”
And then, I would follow such up with happy gas, a cocktail of cherry thoughts and wholesome mirth,
Everybody as bubbly as a fizzy drink, babies giggling from the moment mum gave birth.

Oh, what joy, not a frown to be seen, grouchy puddles having evaporated, tear drops too,
Everyone chatty, they smiling, whistling or humming, and as sprightly as a chimp in a zoo.
And should there be a lull, out with that needle again, happy gas following hot on its heels,
The world back on the road to recovery, it full of laughter, warm fuzzies, delighted squeals.

And then, out with my brush and shovel, unpleasant outbursts, arguments, moods and scowls swept away,
I hosing any lingering grumpy residue, and finishing things off with a sweet spray.
The latter filling everyone’s nostrils with a refreshing bouquet, a feeling that all’s okay,
Grey clouds having disappeared, and thereby, one’s outlook having cleared, and every day a happy day.

By Lance Landall

7.  Sleepyhead

Oh, sleepyhead, sleepy head, snoozing in the noon day sun, please may I join you?
’Cause that warmth is very tempting, especially when toes and fingers are blue.
I’m rather tired too, and being indoors is such a drag, despite work due,
So please, sleepyhead, make room for another sleepyhead, who’d love to snooze too.

No, I’m not a lazybones, I really aren’t, just simply jealous of that sun,
And after basking in its glorious rays, I’m sure that I’ll still get things done.
Just wake me when you’ve had enough, and I’ll enjoy what’s left, also have my fill,
Two sleepyheads having snoozed their heads off, and if I sleep too long, please don’t tell.

By Lance Landall

8.  Be Quick On The Draw

I barely remember when I saw you last, it possibly a day or two ago
When you said, “Hello,” which is why I’ll remember when next time past me you might go.
And I hope that you will stop and chat, and that way I’ll remember you even more,
A “Hello” nice but fleeting, and too oft the cause of, “Haven’t I seen you before?”

But never mind, a “Hello” better than nothing, and more so where there’s a smile,
And where both are looking for some excuse to chinwag, thus going the extra mile.
Oh, the nicety of that, “Hello there, nice to see you again,” which cheers one’s day,
All good reason for rustling up the odd word or two next time someone comes our way.

By Lance Landall

9.  A Mental Hug

A smile’s like a bud that bursts forth in spring, a cheery bloom that brightens,
And that on its way, the load of some struggling soul adjusts and lightens.
Oh, the power of a smile, its beautiful bloom a refreshing sight,
Something that midst a gloomy old day spreads a welcoming ray of light.

A smile’s akin to a mental hug, it registering in ones brain,
And just like a relaxing massage, it having an affect on strain.
Yes, it providing a little boost, one that something else can build on,
And why whenever we venture out, a genial smile we should don.

By Lance Landall

10.  May It Be So

As you go through life, may your heart always be moved by another’s plight,
And it very quick to respond, motivated by goodness and right.
It ever on the lookout, tuned to notice, ready to lend a hand,
It tender, loving, faithful and generous, seeking to understand.

And may it always beat with hope and beauty, always thinking the best,
That those it comes across may be encouraged, uplifted, warmed and blessed.
And may it also be that its beating is lengthened and not cut short,
That it may continue to gladden, its example desired and sought. 

By Lance Landall

11.  Joy

Joy’s a clear blue sky and a summer sun that warms one like a heater,
A picnic in a park after a cosy ride on a two-seater.
Or a squiggly piece of handwriting that says, “I rather fancy you,”
And he or she smiling at that photograph where you once gushed, “I do!”

Yes, joy’s a hand in hand stroll down a quiet country lane where no one’s seen,
A pretty bouquet and a table for two where many times you’ve been.
Or a snuggle and cuddle in a comfy chair by a toasty fire,
A mature marriage that’s still full of loving affection and desire.

By Lance Landall

12.  I Could, But No

I could captain a ship, pilot a plane, guide a rocket into outer space,
Conduct a famous orchestra, become a judge, even win some kind of race.
But the truth is, I’d rather stroll around town as a deliverer of joy,
Be that via word or deed, my presence cheering any man, women, girl or boy.

Yes, I no brain surgeon, no president or king, but a man of different means,
My chest not sporting a row of badges, my wallet not bulging at its seams.
No, my skills or talents used in other ways, my worn pockets lean from giving,
And my back stiff from stooping to serve, for such is what I call really living.

By Lance Landall

13.  Peck-a-boo

Do you remember when love tickled your tummy, played with your tootsies,
Held your tiny fingers, bounced you up and down, gave you a little squeeze,
When love fed you, patted you on the back and wiped your chinny chin chin,
Changed that soggy, soiled botheration, rubbed talc all over your skin?

Do you remember when love made those funny faces and pinched your cheek,
Repeatedly said, “Boo!” Smiled. Sniffed the air. Grimaced. Had another peek?
Of course you don’t, and you staring blankly at love’s face, until one day,
You couldn’t help but smile back, and your own intriguing things do and say.

By Lance Landall

14.  I'm Sure You'll Agree

When the smiling sun pokes its nose through the surly clouds and warms one’s heart and face,
This oft depressing old world seems not as bad, even the fickle human race.
But what an extra blessing when those stuffy old clouds decide to disappear,
And a sky of blue takes their place with that friendly sun beaming from ear to ear.

And oh, how sweet it is when blossoms peek out from their buds and cheerily bloom,
Joining in the sun and sky’s welcomed attempts to disperse any frost and gloom.
And what another blessing when it seems as if every bird has thought to sing,
And when every kind of multi-coloured fury butterfly is on the wing.

And to top it all off, frisky and boisterous fountains sharing their liquid joy,
Or sedately captivating any loitering man, woman, girl or boy.
And yes, a duck or two, and a nearby river that beckons oars and swimmers,
Who, after all those strokes and splashes, head toward that picnic lunch that simmers.

By Lance Landall

15.  Singing In The Rain

When the sky packs a sad, covers itself in cloud and turns its tap on hard,
And thereby, the dark and gloomy landscape is seen to angrily bombard,
Out with the umbrella, raincoat and gumboots, thus one singing in the rain,
For though the heavens have opened, we can smile and that lost sunshine reclaim.

Yes, too bad what the moody sky may say, too bad what the weather might do,
Let’s splash in those puddles, enjoy the watering, laugh at the rumbles too,
We shrugging off that grouchy storm, making our own blue sky, warmth that’ll shine,
Ignoring that ill-tempered wind that has nothing better to do than whine.
 
By Lance Landall

16.  On A Roll

Morning world! — and hey, get out of my way, 'cause I’m about to seize another day,
Haven’t got time for negative introspection, would rather love, laugh, sing and play.
So look out worry, 'cause I’ve had enough of your old spoil sport ways, am on a roll,
Have a basket full of promise, a new zest for life burning deep within my soul.

Yea, can’t keep me down, 'cause I’ve a spring in my step, am like a bud about to bloom,
A fountain about to gush, or a chandelier that’ll brighten up any room.
Won’t take no for an answer, couldn’t care less if I come across a cloud or two,
’Cause I’ve got a brush that’ll take any moody sky and soon cheer it up with blue.

By Lance Landall

17.  Station Earworm

Within everyone’s brain there’s a little radio and busy disc jockey,
Random tunes and songs coming from a station that’s player jams repeatedly.
All why certain melodies keep running around in ones head on any given day,
Ones subscription automatic at birth and lifelong, still there when hair turns grey.

Yes, that disc jockey big on his or her favourites, sometimes annoyingly,
But all in all, the music entertaining and usually cheery.
And to be honest, one having a certain say in the matter, tune or song wise,
But hardly so when it comes to that radio that’s battery never dies.

By Lance Landall


"Earworm" is what scientists call that tune that seems to be stuck in our head.

18.  Make Life Count

Make life count, skin those potatoes, peel that banana, skip with your nose in the air,
Show troubles that you couldn’t care less, that you’re going to sing and dance while you’re here.
No hanging around in the shadows, but you as large as life in the old sunshine,
And swinging from tree to tree like Tarzan, clinging to an imaginary vine.

Yes, make life count, let people know that you’re coming, and that you won’t be sitting still,
But making the most of everything, thus electrifying every cell.
No, no flies on you, but mental wings, your creativeness running riot, on fire,
Your flames of passion sneering at any negative, your heart singing like a choir.

By Lance Landall

19.  Making The Most Of It

Shame about the weather, ay, it rather emotional, all over the place,
Sunny smile one day, cloudy frown another, then comes those wild gusts in one’s face.
Or it sheds its tears — yes, we the unfortunate victims of its moody swings,
Those stormy temper tantrums where it booms and crackles — and oh, how that hail stings!

But midst it all, we making the most of it, turning the tables, so to speak,
A comfy chair, fire, hot drink and engrossing book — who cares if the weather’s bleak.
Yes, we tucked up inside, snug in bed, or sporting warm gloves and a woolly coat,
And should a little flooding occur, who’s bothered, because there’s always a boat.

By Lance Landall

20.  Smile!

A smile is a kindly thing, and more so when we are feeling down,
Or when we’ve been on the receiving end of a judgmental frown.
Yes, a smile can lift our spirits, make a difference to our day,
Which is why we should smile too whenever anyone comes our way.

And should they smile in return, we’ll feel all the better for it too,
And encouraged to smile more, every stranger being our cue.
And you know, pleasant words often following, a nice “Howdy-do?”
Two people all the better off for it, and days a brighter hue.

By Lance Landall

21.  Teddy Bears

Teddy bears, teddy bears, all over the bed, ’cause someone has far too many,
And a sleepy husband not allowed to move them who wishes there weren’t any.
Mamma bears, papa bears, boy bears, girl bears — yes, they staring at me night and day,
But it no good me wishing that they were elsewhere, as I’d hardly get my way.

Oh dear, the habits of collectors, or has it got more to do with birthdays?
Someone known to love teddy bears and why another member soon meets ones gaze.
And yes, come bedtime, hubby having to wait ’till they’re all removed, one by one,
Two by two, it all becoming quite unbearable, if you’ll excuse the pun.

By Lance Landall

22.  Sad Begining, Happy Ending

A pretty little flower wanted to be itself, but such wasn’t to be,
’Cause no one was taken with its colour, nor how it expressed itself, sadly.
So it just stood there until it drooped, dropped all its petals and wasted away,
Never having been appreciated, nor considered fit for a bouquet.

But midst its sad departing, it left behind other free-thinking seeds that grew,
Each one another pretty little flower with its own expression and hue.
They surely not destined to suffer the same fate, each head erect and pleading,
But sad to say, and come each day, their bid for attention no one was heeding.

Until, of course, an innocent child appeared, her face expressing joy and awe,
And each one was lovingly gathered and sniffed at, which made their tiny hearts soar.
Oh to be noticed, wanted, partiality not the hallmark of childhood,
And why in the heart and room of a little child those flowers soon basked and stood.

By Lance Landall

23.  Out And About

It’s good to roam the countryside for pleasure, health, education and chance meetings,
The air pregnant with the scent of Nature’s bounties and those passing friendly greetings.
And then to return to a meal that replenishes, a favoured chair by the fire,
And a sound and comfortable sleep in a cosy bed that was heated prior.

One soon lost in dreams after a day well spent, blessed by the exercise, sun and air,
And those momentary stops for purifying water that’s needed here and there.
Yes, it’s so good to roam the countryside, to lose oneself midst heather, brooks and trees,
Those chirpy birds, grazing beasts, butterflies, dragonflies, ducklings and watchful bunnies.

By Lance Landall

24.  Affection

There’s just nothing like affection, those cuddles, kisses and hugs, that holding hands,
Those tender anytime caresses, those cosy ’neath the stars and moonlight plans.
Two people in love, a selfless marriage, a got-it-together family,
Everyone full of affection, and all responding reciprocally.

Yes, can’t beat it, can’t top it, loving affection earning silver, bronze and gold,
Worthily and deservingly taking any prize-winning cup in its hold.
Yes, affection’s a sure winner, a beautiful expression of love and life,
Wherever there’s another soul, some romance, a family, husband and wife.

By Lance Landall

25.  Coming Ready Or Not!

Wouldn’t it be great if love was hiding behind everything,
And when anyone walked past it was seen to up, out and spring.
All at its mercy but willingly succumbing to its spell,
Love wrapping itself around folk in a way that'd kiss and tell.

Yes, it sparing no one, all bitten and smitten on their way,
Love never leaving off but hard at work come night or come day.
And soon the whole of Earth covered in a glorious mantle,
Love having captured each heart and brought any out of their shell.

By Lance Landall

26.  Course You Have

You’ve forgotten me, ay, but I’ve always been there, just kind of hidden away,
Though perhaps it’s those glasses, that grey hair, or those wrinkles that something else say.
Yes, I guess that I’ve sort of metamorphosed, shed that earlier looking me,
Nothing like a change, you know, and I also looking at things differently.

But I’m still that person you knew, my name not having changed, but simply my age,
Hence those things that fooled you, you still caught up in an earlier chapter and page.
It just the same book, but the story having moved on and nearing its ending,
The scene changing, the spotlight shifting, I bowing and the curtain descending.

By Lance Landall

27.  Blissfully Unaware

The moon’s peeking through the clouds that are hiding the night sky,
Where many stars are scattered that twinkle and beautify.
A little light is present ’midst the darkness of the night,
Courtesy of a moonbeam and a streetlamp within sight.

A prickly little hedgehog in an alleyway nearby,
Is sniffing at rubbish bags full of scraps, and piled high.
He’s looking for some dinner, hoping that he’ll find some there,
Before more hungry creatures inconveniently appear.

Prowling tom-cats roam about in the shadows of the night,
Slinking throughout neighborhoods, where catcalls, a few recite.
They quietly pass by homes housing snoozing canine pets,
Lest the still night air be shattered via cat and dog duets.

A pair of saucer-like eyes are peering out from a tree,
Looking for something tasty to approach and snatch (silently).
Once it has found its supper, sharp-eyed owl will wing its way
To where its meal is waiting perilously on display.

Rodents scurry here and there, noses twitching as they search,
Unaware a wide-eyed owl is about to leave its perch.
They quickly cross the garden on their tiny little feet,
Well aware they could become a night-owl’s night-time treat.

A host of tiny insects attracted by the streetlamp,
All throughout the hours of dark, upon its dewy lens camp.
Other insects criss-cross tracks that a stealthy fox has made,
One that another creature is trying hard to evade.

Children snuggled in warm beds slumber fitfully ’midst dreams,
Straddling a banana moon, sliding down its yellow beams.
Afloat on candy floss clouds, they’re blissfully unaware
That outside their dreamy world, there’s another, busy and near.

By Lance Landall

28.  Attitude

I’m excited about today, ’cause who knows what’s around the corner — Surprise!
Yes, every day a possible lucky day, and each day itself a prize.
Oh, how we should make the most of every day, lest it be our very last,
And in all the beauty and delight that can be found in it, mentally bask.

Yes, every day another opportunity for those who’ve eagle eyes,
A positive approach and grateful heart, because that is where good fortune lies.
Our eagerness attracting whatever joy and happiness might be out there,
Which is sure to multiply, ripple and bless should we more than willingly share.

By Lance Landall

29.  Two Worlds

You know, there’s actually two world’s, the one that’s out there, and the one we create,
And by that I’m meaning: No matter what’s going on out there, there’s that inner state.
Yes, that world that we create within us, and thus not succumbing to doom and gloom,
But designing a bright and cheery décor, one that gives upsetting thoughts no room.

And such being the only way to go, you know, ’cause it’s true life’s what we make it,
Life very prone to ups and downs, and those downs much harder on those who fret and sit.
And therefore, we having to install our own light, and not forget to switch it on,
Lest before we know it — Kapow! — a less than happy three score years and ten has gone.

By Lance Landall

30.  Me?

I could write a funny poem, but hey, it’s only poets who pen poetry,
And besides, am I really someone who is into waxing lyrically?
And then there’s that rhythm and rhyme, it taking a fair amount of energy,
And hence why I’m really not sure that I want to try my hand at poetry.

Yes, I could grab a biro and some paper, but there would go another tree,
Well, by the time I would’ve finished, that is — and thus Greenpeace soon chasing me;
For I could get carried away, and then there’s that ink I’d be wasting, you see,
And why I’d better leave such to poets who should know better, quite honestly.

By Lance Landall

31.  Berry Nice

Two wood pigeons, as bold as brass, sitting on a cable connected to our home,
Almost like living gargoyles, and as if security too, given how they comb.
One looking right, one looking left — and when finished, pinching berries from our tree,
Where midst filling their bellies to bursting, they also keep a watchful eye on me.

But such I don’t mind, ’cause they’re berry nice to see, and regular visitors too,
Who, rather untidily, leave me to clean up after them, a chore I must do.
’Cause those pips and my mower are hardly friends, the cutters jamming annoyingly,
Though that’s an upset I’m happy to live with, lest those beautiful creatures I not see.

By Lance Landall

32.  Works Like Nails And Glue

When things start to wane, it’s time for a romantic rendezvous, table for two,
By George, yes — but something out of the ordinary, though not kangaroo stew.
So head off to a place that pampers and teases the taste buds, spices things up,
And when she’s not looking, slip a little handwritten “Love You” under her cup.

Yes, be one retired, a teacher, lorry driver or a cabinetmaker,
Just tell her to dress up like a dolly, then put her in the car and take her.
And soon you’ll both be singing in harmony, holding hands on the way back home,
But please, no greasing up the hair, just a little water and quick with the comb.

By Lance Landall

33.  Everyone Loves Chips

It’s just a humble potato, but everyone loves chips, and thus why it’s so
That it all comes down to what people do with something, enter that creative flow.
Hence that humble potato pleasing many palates when that good idea was born.
Just like that brainwave that saw someone take a bicycle and add a warning horn

Yes, just a humble bicycle, but oh, all the fun that children have with that horn,
Which one day in the contemplating brain box of some clever head was seen to dawn.
And all how some people think themselves out of trouble, or solve a pressing issue,
And why I hope that out of this poem will come something that’s just as fruitful too.

By Lance Landall

34.  The Last Meal Of The Day

It’s funny how we get things back to front, a light breakfast and a heavy tea,
That last meal of the day that we share with other members of the family.
But then again, given dreams and restlessness, I guess we burn up energy.
Well, I mean to say, sometimes dreams can go on and on, and then there’s those nightmares,
A plate of food gone in a minute, sweat soaking those pyjamas that one wears.

Yes, one can have quite a busy night, tossing and turning, adjusting pillows,
And hence why come that early morning chorus, our night time struggle often shows,
Though exactly what we’ve been up to during those darkened hours, nobody knows.
Such not helped by those dreams that have us ducking for cover or climbing a tree,
And why I guess there might well be some merit in having a rather large tea.

By Lance Landall

35.  Smiles

A smile can disarm a guarded face, crack a granite-like look, lessen a frown,
Hence why it can come in handy whenever one’s out and about, around town.
Yes, a flash of teeth here, a flash of teeth there, dimples having appeared as well,
And as to whether a smile has worked or not, is so very easy to tell.

Smiles cost nothing and beautify ones face, even brush up other faces too,
'Cause those smiles sent are often mirrored in others, and sometimes as if on cue.
Yes, some a little slower in coming, but appearing eventually,
'Cause a lovely smile is pretty irresistible, a joyous thing to see.

By Lance Landall

36.  Yes!

Oh, there’s nothing like that tea for two,
The lighting dimmed, music going too.
And the kids all out and late home due,
Mum and Dad cuddling like lovebirds do.

Oh yes, cosy evenings there should be,
Where “Don’t disturb” hollers quietly.
All the curtains pulled so none can see,
Those two lovebirds nestling blissfully.

By Lance Landall

37.  Christmas Time

Yes, it’s Christmas time, a time to be merry, but hey, not that kind of merry,
We enjoying the food, but not overindulging, ’cause hospital’s scary.
Yes, it’s the season to be jolly, but not forgetting Who it’s all about,
A baby in a manger, not that chimney Santa and his “Ho! Ho! Ho!” shout.

So deck the halls with boughs of holly, and place presents under the Christmas tree,
But don’t forget the homeless and the lonely, that more joyful Christmas might be.
Yes, no one left out, the world abuzz with thankfulness, that faith and hope one shares,
That Christ in Christmas, who, in every selfless, kind thought, word and act appears.

By Lance Landall


You might also like to read my other Christmas poem (that's made up of song titles).
It being the last poem on my page that's titled Special Poems.

38.  What's A Poor Fellow To Do?

We complain about the weather, and often very understandably so,
It raining cats and dogs — yes, bucketing down, the heavens having opened, oh!
And then there’s hail, icy marbles, wind that tries to blow everything over,
It a case of tightly clutching one’s hat, and that leash attached to old Rover.

But hey, aren’t we glad when they get the weather wrong sometimes, and it’s not so bad,
The rain having got lost, or hardly turning up at all, we no longer sad.
The sun cheering us up, we doing what we thought we wouldn’t be able to,
But hardly so when they say fine and it pours — oh, what’s a poor fellow to do?

By Lance Landall

39.  "I Love You"

The sun is shining brightly, the sky is a beautiful blue,
And there’s one or two wispy clouds, and a breeze, I might add too.
One that is playfully teasing the colourful dancing heads
Of pretty little flowers gazing out from their flower beds.

Basking in the summer’s warmth, they welcome all the busy bees,
That tickle with their bristles, and then each flower’s pollen seize.
Then off these buzzing fur balls fly to a hive that’s tucked away,
Where honey is manufactured in a very clever way.

And ants are busy working too, lugging loads beyond their size,
Loads that  would shame a weightlifter seeking an Olympic prize.
Marching in a lengthy line through grass that's shaded from the sun
They are simply far too busy to make time for having fun.

My, look at that slinky caterpillar, it's so elastic,
Yes, the way it bends its body is really quite fantastic.
But even more amazing is that very soon it will be
A large monarch butterfly gliding ever so gracefully.

A little kitten is chasing a large insect that’s near by,
But despite its best endeavours, it won’t catch that dragon-fly.
Yes, it’s jumping like a cracker, its paws beating at the air,
And I’m so glad it’s not a bee, or a howl one soon might hear.

A bird is swiftly flying towards a nest up in a tree,
Where little baby starlings are waiting most expectantly.
Soon the yummy little worms that mother’s bringing to her young
Will hush that plaintive wailing coming from each tiny wee lung.

Oh, what a joy to watch and hear all this life on planet earth,
All the wonders and the antics that fill us with awe and mirth.
How good it is to share these sunny days and skies of blue,
And to feel that gentle breeze, whilst whispering, “I love you.”

By Lance Landall





Alternative poem.

40.  Those Little Things

Too often amidst our woes and cares, and those oh so quickly passing years, we overlook those precious little things from which true joy springs, and tend to forget that life’s in the living, the sharing and the giving, and not so much in our dreams and plans, so oft demolished by shifting sands, those folk who our love for them betray, or who with our life wrongfully play, leaving us disappointed, disillusioned, and sad, rather than hopeful, content, and cheerfully clad.
Hence why those little things should receive more attention, rather than the usual, casual inattention, for those little things aren’t so little but where the answer lies, one that awaits the seeing eye that such identifies, and having done so, delights in and shares throughout the coming days and years, for by doing so, such opens another window, whereby, a better, brighter and richer life appears.

By Lance Landall

41.  At Your Service

Hi wee sparrows, waiting for me to get out of bed and appear, seeds in hand,
I scattering them before you, and at a cost, but not that you’d understand.
A bag of seeds not coming cheap, and given that there are quite a few of you,
All hanging around on the clothesline, even near the back door, as if I knew.

Well, I do know, having started the whole chirpy thing, you such a noisy lot,
And charity having metamorphosed into demand, I now in a spot.
But the sight of you all rather fetching, and oh, all that power in my hand,
And I basking in the copious presence of what I like to think are my fans.

By Lance Landall

 

Just This Once, Okay?

Now here’s a tasty treat for you, one that I shouldn’t be revealing,
Because once it goes past your waiting lips, I know how you’ll be feeling.
And therefore, it comes with a strong warning that one must use self-control,
And thus only have a slice or two; such followed by a little stroll.

FRUITY SLICE

 Firstly, you will need a slab tin, a greased one, for you to bake it in,
Though should you not want to grease the tin, place some baking paper within.
And once this fruity slice is baked, cut it into squares while it's still hot,
And please remember to share it too, ’cause you shouldn’t gobble the lot.

Ready? Grab a bowl.

Okay. Next get a cup of self-raising flour, a cup of coconut,
A cup of jumbo seeded raisins, one hen's egg — keep the cupboard shut —
One hundred and twenty five grams of standard butter or margarine,
A tablespoon of golden syrup — oh, I hope that your hands are clean,

And lastly so, three quarters of a cup of plain white sugar also.
Now, when you've got those ingredients together, you're all set to go,
So, take the dry ingredients and mix them together. Which are they?
The flour, the coconut, the raisins and sugar. No! You mustn’t play.

Now take the butter and the golden syrup and place them in a pot,
Letting them melt until just boiling and then quickly remove the pot.
And into that dry mixture in the bowl, tip the contents of the pot,
As well as that egg. Hey! I certainly didn’t say to lick the pot.

Mix all the ingredients well and then place it all in the slab tin,
Spreading it all out evenly — and better wipe that food off your chin.
Now bake it for twenty minutes in the oven, and at what degrees?
One hundred and eighty — Celsius, that is. A cake that's sure to please.

Once it's baked, place it in front of your friends. Now come on, you can do it.
Yes, I know how yummy it smells, but your friends would also love a bit.
And you should take a look at their faces when they take their first big bite,
And I'd listen very carefully too, ’cause they’ll all squeal with delight.

Now remember that it’s just a treat, not something that one should oft eat.

I’m watching you!

By Lance Landall


This poem was upgraded 19 April 2018.