Re: Leisurely Scribbles part 2

Gumbud, this tree of which you spoke
Have you ever seen a fallen Oak?
Or witnessed a Weeping Willow Croak
Trees are stoic, silent in decline
Defiant of the parameters of Human time
Have we agreed a Cedar Ceeds
What’s that on the floor
A Sickamore?

Re: Leisurely Scribbles part 2

Play nicely lads

Re: Leisurely Scribbles part 2

Yes.
Plus fully qualified to PUADEFSO002C level in both sub and surface sonar operations.

Re: Leisurely Scribbles part 2

I hear that plants do music love
But who can prove what moves the bud
When oaks do fall and make a ‘bang’
The wee small plant just shakes and stands

I have no ears says fragile lily
But your love sent waves can make me silly
But ‘bang’ with all your might you may
I’ll live to stand another day

What is a ‘crash’ I hear you ask
Is it a ‘bang’ that’s just been trashed
I wouldn’t know says beetle small
My shell though small can withstand all!

The horse through forest goes clip clop
Is that clip sharp and flattened clop
How did Beethoven ‘hear’ the notes
He was stone deaf but still he wrote?

The silence is just deafening me
All this spoken word of fallen trees
Or did I mean twas written word
These scientists are such silly nerds!

Re: Leisurely Scribbles part 2

Musings from the wall!

as a young lad I lived in the countryside of Cheshire and would often be lulled to sleep and indeed mesmerized by the haunting sounds of steam trains passing by. when I say passing by I do not mean 'passing by my window' but some miles away. But the still night air would allow the sound of the whistle blowing and the wheels clattering to reach my wee small bedroom.

Years later I am staying in the mining town of Ballarat in OZ - steeped in mining history and of course the uprising of the Eureka Stockade AND trains. Today all the trains are electric of course and run past my respite within 700 meters. As a lay in bed tonight I hear the whistle of the cargo train, compulsory I believe as it passes through the town and now of course an electric whistle. And I hear too the clattering and rumbling of that same train. And even more it's vibrations as it rocks the foundations of the house and vibrates the old fashioned clock on the wall which itself is now a battery operated one. Oh how we have changed but old memories remain the same!

Ps: I visited the Eureka Stockade a week ago. Now a fully electronic museum explaining the price of liberty and democracy and the hard fight those original miners fought to defend the right to mine without unreasonable taxes - sometimes with their lives!

Re: Leisurely Scribbles part 2

Nice times remembered Gumbud, true, memories never do change.

Variety sure is the spice of life and that leads me to a question that has always puzzled me. Why do Men go bald and Women don't?
"Women do secrete some testosterone, but they also secrete female hormones, progesterone and oestrogen, which trump the testosterone, thus women don't go bald. That is, until the menopause, when sometimes you can see balding women. That's why you also sometimes see elderly women with facial hair"

Great to be able to get the answers at the tip of your fingers aint it.


Oh if only I could invest alone
in a large bottle of testosterone
My head it might scald
but I’d never go bald
when they lay me down on the rest stone.

Re: Leisurely Scribbles part 2

Jem, it's all in the jeans

Re: Leisurely Scribbles part 2

I’ve heard a tree that rustled at me
And hugged a tree with loving glee
I’ve often pined for fallen pines
And walked amongst those red woods fine

The sycamore is sick no more
And we’ve stopped the beaching of the beech
The weeping willow weeps no more
Not one small croak just copious tears

The jarrah tree is tough as hell
It’s brought on many a saws death knell
The boab has such fruits to share
And stands with roots up in the air!

I’ve bounced off many a rubber tree
Eaten gooseberries from a gooseberry tree
Sat with some jolly swagmen three
Under the shade of a coulibah tree

I once climbed a raintree but found no rain
And after the whiteboard came along
The blackboard tree could live so long

etc etc etc etc

Re: Leisurely Scribbles part 2

Beautiful that Gumbud.
I’ve always loved trees, sitting under them, climbing them, swinging from them, making bows and arrows from their branches, a tree is a one man disneyland to a young boy, and I have many happy memories of my brother, me, and the old oak tree in the granny's back garden. Trees are right up there at the top of the list of Gods finest creations as far as I’m concerned.

Re: Leisurely Scribbles part 2

Xmas poem for Jem



I’ve been around for many years
But never felt alone
My pals drop ‘round everyday
And I hear their every groan

“me muvver makes me work too hard
And Da I never see
He comes home too late at night
And I’m still up the tree!”

“At least he built me my own ‘home’
Well for me bruvver too
It’s our own secret den ya know
Me mates don’t have a clue”

They share with me their ‘stories’
Of their plans and doubts and fears
They sometimes talk of movin on
Next week, next month, next year?

They climb amongst me branches
I can feel their souls touch mine
And when they swing they move me so
Our rhythms are entwined

I guess I may outlive them
If they let me grow in peace
But I’ll keep their swing a swingin
With every breeze that I can feel