Gumboots Don. ~ Poem Collection By K.S Blackmore

Some more scribbling! Putting a smile on my face. Loving the place scribbling lets me escape to. 🙂


Wakey Wakey.

Mum nature`s wakey – wakey nudges a rapture.
With a grace, for today we have a woken.
Now up! No excuse this day to capture
For tomorrow maybe a heart-broken.
Only this day is given, and not waiting
No need a first coffee, the sun abuzz
Make hasten! The days already deflating!
So take hold the whole day, `coz
A tonic missed if snoozing outdoes!



Gumboots Don.

Dawning beckoning as woods awake
My gumboots don, keen to yomp. Nay naturalist still espy
The roe deer, hide and seek to laik
Trees galore with trees of short, trees of high,
Trees of age and trees of youth.
Those birdie folks country estate!
And betokening all is sooth.
With footnotes aplenty in black treacle, great!
Carrying`s-on courtesy of that woodland jester.
And booming the soundtrack, acknowledged Mr Black-Bird.
As up high certain a bird, his breakfast prey a fester.
And still the days not yet curd!



Bleak Days, Past.

Whispers of bleak days past,
Murmurs a stirring, natures a nudge.
Ensnared no-more. Released again at last
Warming up benumbed souls from the sludge.
Air fresh, filled a song or two subdued,
To dusting`s of hues, uplifting the mood.



Herald Of Spring.

Herald of spring is the morns epigraph.
Breathing once more, the great sallow is a go.
Too, the hearken of chiff – chaff. So on behalf
A shout of spring is so.



A Gentleman Of Age.

In a farmers field he stands
A gentleman of age.
At peace with life, he understands.
A chilled winter break off stage
Too cleansed, thanks too showers of April.
Eager now for this new year
The campsite vacant, queuing fauna squabble.
As I long, his secrets locked, to overhear.
In awl I stand, admiration full. Surely outlived?


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