Hedgehogs In The Garden

I went outside to retrieve the washing one night;
It was dark, apart from a glimmer of moonlight.
Suddenly, I was aware of a very strange sound.
Feeling rather worried, I began to look around.

To my surprise, I saw two hedgehogs there;
Busy searching for their food, without a care.
Gone were my former feelings of anxiety and fright;
They were swiftly replaced with joy and sheer delight.

I stood and watched the two hedgehogs in total awe,
As I’d never been that close to a live hedgehog before.
I had absolutely no idea that these creatures roamed,
Unseen by me, each night, so very close to our home.

Of my presence, I’m not sure that they were aware,
But my close proximity, they seemed happy to bear.
To us, they were extremely welcome guests,
As, hedgehogs are known to eat garden pests.

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poem by Angela Wybrow
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The Stag Party

To the ‘stags' standing up in my carriage,
I realise that one of you is soon to be married,
But please couldn't all of you just take a seat?
And do I really have to listen to that beat?

No doubt you'll all be out on the town tonight,
But to disturb other passengers, you have no right.
Your spirits are obviously soaring way up high,
And I notice that the Guard has turned a blind eye.

Your weekend of fun, I do not wish to mar,
But you are on a train, lads: not in a bar!
You've all obviously had quite a bit to drink:
I wonder what our fellow passengers all think?

Why don't you save the high jinks for later on?
Then, if you want, you can even burst into song!
I had been planning to sit here and read my book,
But, out of the train window, I now sit and look.

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poem by Angela Wybrow
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By Blackfriars Bridge

It is such a lovely day and the sun is shining.
Outside the nearby pub, there are people dining.
A street performer dances with a crystal ball.
Directly opposite me, is the dome of St Paul's.

Along the pebbled shore, a few stragglers stroll.
Somewhere in the distance, a church bell tolls.
At the river, people contentedly stand and stare.
The soft, summer breeze gently ruffles my hair.

The Millennium Bridge shines silver in the sun.
I pass by some joggers, who are out for their run.
People take pictures with their mobile phones.
Along the river, a pair of ducks happily roam.

Of people walking along, there is a constant flow.
Planes high up in the sky head towards Heathrow.
A flock of seagulls swoop around above my head,
As they search for food along the Thames riverbed.

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poem by Angela Wybrow
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Long Lost Daughter

This poem was inspired by a storyline on the TV show 'Casualty', when Colette's long lost daughter found her.

My Mum came to see me at work,
Asking to speak to me urgently.
She had recieved a phone call
From my long lost daughter, Natalie.

Then one day, Natalie turned up at work.
I was taken by surprise:
She was a beautiful young lady now,
And was stood before my very eyes.

I asked my boss for an hour's break.
Natalie and I went for a walk.
We had a lot of catching up to do,
And had a good heart to heart talk.

She asked why I had her adopted
And I had to tell her the truth.
My Mum had told me if I kept her,

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poem by Angela Wybrow
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Guess Who?

You often say you don't possess any confidence,
But the things you've achieved are quite immense.
Of the whole world, you often say you are scared,
But the things you have done, just do not compare.

You've managed to overcome so much fear;
You've managed to step things up another gear.
Your determination and true grit, I really admire;
Sometimes, it seems that your whole soul is on fire.

Your intelligence, others do their best to play down,
But, one day, you may get to wear a cap and gown.
In you, others may really despair and not believe,
But, you'd be surprised at what you can achieve.

As a person, you've always been quiet and shy,
But you're often willing to give new things a try.
You're extremely sensitive, and you easily cry,
But with encouragement and help, you will get by.

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poem by Angela Wybrow
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Summer Days

Summer days are warm, and wonderfully long.
Deep down, within my heart, I feel a joyful song.
Gone are winter days, with their dowdy browns;
The trees and flowers now wear coloured crowns.

The natural world displays its bounteous beauty.
The soft, summer breeze is fragrant and fruity.
Bees, butterflies, and other bugs, now take flight.
Days of summer, feel so very cheerful and bright.

The days of winter can be so deeply depressing,
But now, their true selves, plants are expressing.
Suddenly, the world feels like a much better place,
And the happy smiles are evident on many a face.

The world, all about us, is given a golden glow,
Which illuminates Mother Nature's vibrant show.
Following the winter months: all dull and dreary;
We're treated to a display that's much more cheery.

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poem by Angela Wybrow
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Full Of The Joys Of Spring

Today, I saw a little Dachshund, out and about;
That he was full of beans, I had very little doubt.
He was more than ready to play life's great game;
He was as playful and lively, as a flickering flame.

The little Dachshund almost bounced along;
His soul was excited, and his will was strong.
Determined to live that moment to the very full,
At his lead, the little chap strained and pulled.

The great outdoors, he was so very eager to explore;
Round each corner, he wondered what was in store.
I had no doubt that he was full of the joys of spring;
He would have almost taken off, if he'd had wings!

His endless energy seemed to know no bounds;
His senses soaked up all of life's sights and sounds.
The Dachshund may have been only small in height,
But watching his sheer vitality, was such a real delight.

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poem by Angela Wybrow
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Grey Skies In July

We are now well in to the month of July,
But above my head, there's a leaden sky.
For days on end, it has constantly rained,
And I must say that it's a right old pain.

Every time that I step out of my door,
The Heavens open and it begins to pour.
This awful weather is getting me down:
My once sunny smile has turned to a frown.

When it rains, it rains nearly all the day long;
For the middle of summer, it feels so wrong.
In July, we should be getting long days of sun,
But, so far, this month, we've had hardly none.

I hate these days which are dreary and dull;
With this wet weather, there is hardly a lull.
It was on the radio, that I heard one morning,
Half of Britain had severe weather warnings.

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poem by Angela Wybrow
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Bees

Bees are messengers from up above:
Filled with goodness and with love.
Unlike wasps, they mean us no harm:
They are more friendly and have charm.

On fine, silvery wings, the bees take flight,
When the sun's warm rays are shining bright.
They collect up the pollen in their sacs,
Then, to their hives, they take it back.

They carry out their duties with a smile;
Their souls full of cheer all the while.
With keenness, they carry out their work;
Their responsibilities, they do not shirk.

Bees have such an important role to play:
We would be doomed if they died away.
Plants and flowers would cease to grow,
And supplies of foodstuffs would soon be low.

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poem by Angela Wybrow
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Storm In A Teacup

The sky is bright blue, but there's a big patch of grey;
I can hear thunder: there's a storm heading this way.
At present, my world is glowing with glorious sun,
But I'm not looking forward to what is to come.

The rolls of thunder are resonating quite far apart,
But hearing them, quickens the beat of my heart.
The day, so far, has been a mix of sun and of rain,
But, thankfully, the sun has prevailed, in the main.

The dark clouds overhead, are as grey as iron;
The thunder roars loudly, like a mighty lion.
I'm really hoping that there will be no lightning;
As an adult, I still find storms quite frightening.

I had been planning to take a steady stroll into town,
But, chances are, that rain will soon be falling down.
The sun continues to shine, and there's little thunder;
Should I take a gamble with the weather, I wonder?

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poem by Angela Wybrow
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