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The Easter Bunny left eggs in all the usual places – in the gaps in the stone wall, the flowerbeds, up in the branches of the apple tree, on the swing, and even one where one of our hens randomly lays, under the oil tank at the back of the house. Billy the dog managed to find six chocolate eggs (he has taken to pinching eggs from the henhouse of late, so maybe he thought they were just extra shiny ones gone astray). I ate so much chocolate on Sunday I felt sick. I never want to eat chocolate again, not at least for another day or two.
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Yesterday we were out on the lake basking in sunshine, and today we took the dogs for a walk in a flurry of snow. Like the poet T.S. Eliot once wrote, ‘April is the cruellest month’. It’s mixed up, is what it is. Like this weather, man. And this weather man. (You see what I did there!)
Storm in a Tea-cup
(Not your average beverage)
The weather man announced last night
a storm would brew today.
I thought I’d give the stuff a try –
from Nature’s Own Café.
I left a tea-cup on the grass,
then went inside to wait
while wind and rain arrived to help
the weather percolate.
When everything had settled down
I brought my tea-cup in,
and saw the next-door copycat
do likewise, with a grin.
Twigs and leaves were there all right,
but I began to wonder –
the flavour seemed a little bland;
I think she stole my thunder.
Kate O’Neil
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It’s hard to know if you’re coming these days, isn’t it. We’ve been spending as much time as we can outside, regardless of the hailstones and the lack of places to go. The hedgerows are filling up with anemones and wild garlic and primroses, there's a scattering of buttercups in the fields. There must be a hundred fish in our pond now, as well as a big clump of frog spawn that is starting to hatch, and Ralph and Nancy have just discovered three resident newts. The long-eared owl has found his mate and they’ve moved in next door (here's a little video of him). But despite being surrounded by all this wonderful nature, it’s still possible to feel a little hemmed in some days, out of sorts, off kilter, fruity. Sophie Kirtley hits the nail on the head in this little poem.
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Gone Bananas!
A banana in a teacup,
A teacup in my bed,
My bed in a buttercup,
A buttercup on my bread,
My bread in my flip-flops,
My flip-flops in a lake,
A lake in the fruit bowl,
The fruit bowl in a cake,
A cake in a birds’ nest,
A birds’ nest in my pyjamas,
My pyjamas in the Wild west,
Eating my bananas.
Sophie Kirtley
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I AM GOING BANANAS! That’s what I say to my bananas before I leave the house. I’m very fond of them.
Have you ever heard of an Uguisu? Otherwise known as a Japanese bush warbler? Well, you can learn things from poems, you know. Like this:
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Uguisu
I can’t believe what I’ve just heard
About the shy Uguisu bird.
I don’t want to believe it’s true
That people gather up its poo
To use it as a basis
In creams for ladies’ faces!
Imagine this: on Mother’s Day
You go up to your mum and say,
‘Here’s some face cream just for you –
Oh, by the way, it’s made of poo.’
She’d probably burst into tears
And ground you for a thousand years.
Sandra Horn
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The things poets think of, eh … Whatever next. Can you think of some weird or wonderful thing to write about? Something you’ve watched on YouTube or a friend has told you about? The best way to get ideas, I find, is to read other poems – not to steal from them but to spark ideas off, like little firelighters. Try it!
Until next time, my friend,
Rebecca O'Connor
Editor, The Caterpillar
Poems and art (by Belinda Evans and Milan Gudeljevic) from The Caterpillar magazine archives. You can purchase the current issue of The Caterpillar for €7 (including postage worldwide) or back issues for €5 (FREE POST!) here.
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