The Iris

There are many Iris:
Iris albertii
Iris albicans
Iris aphylla
Iris croatica
To name a few!
Many colours and hues, add to them too.
Small, squat, long, tall
All add to the list of 300 hundred or more
And many hybrids also, anew.

The strong lean stem
Filled with life’s blood sap,
Pumps the living fluid to
the leaves and flowers new.
The leaves, sword like they grow
up along the stem.
Rich and dense and dark they are
In that all encompassing green.
And along its span a fold appears
And leaf hangs down,
Like swords held t’wards the ground.

The flowers are buds now
But soon they do appear,
they unfold from their hard cocoon, like
moth on a summers noon.
The bud breaks open when time’s aright
Breaking its grip on flowers petal.
All too slowly the folds appear
Sometimes mauve and sometimes white,
then stamen clear,
The rich yellow sunlight doth flow to sight
As petals open in glowing light.
The petals respond to bee like prods
As they gather nectar from the colourful fronds.

The Iris has a colourful life
the flowers do open when the time is right.
The colours of a spectrum light
does give it majesty, in its right.
The petals open more and more
so sunlight shines on stamen bright.
They bend as a ballet dancer moves,
head held high and back bent nigh.
But sadly, when flowers are at their end,
another bud appears to bend.
The tight cocooning around the bud, again
starts to fight for life, for love.

So if a small patch of land is clear
Give it to an Iris to love and cherish, dear
The many colours can lend a hand
To brighten up any bit land
To give a back drop in a dowdy place
The tall ones there will find the grace
To pick the light from life’s giving sun
To brighten up all and everyone!
The smaller plants can be put in front
To fill the shadows and give it depth
The colours will be bright in dowdy place
And subdued in sunny summers grace.

© Nick Rigazzi-Tarling 10-08-2009

Happy Birthday – Margaret

Some weeks ago during July
Iris and Susi got together, and why?
They talked of a party
For Margaret, so hearty,
To mark her birthday, of old!
Preparations are now in full swing
Susi and Sam are doing their thing.
Some food is brought by other guests,
And Cake and Candles by Iris and Nick.
The cake still needs some preparation
Small jelly and sweet decoration.
For the icing now done
Reads: Happy Birthday Margaret xx.
Margaret now, something, years old!
Is embarressed by the group cucold.
She likes to chat and is very sincere
When talking to friends, and never fears.
Sometimes I’ve noticed her quietly sitting
In her own thoughts, a-mind.
She’s thinking very seriously
Of something, someone – alive!
Her love of Pat and some old cats
Is very hard to miss.
Cats would adorn the very home
If time and tide exist.
Our Margaret now sits above
The mortals such as us!
As Councillor she has the rite, for us
To curtsy, bow and kiss.
The one I haven’t really mentioned
Is her hubby, dear ol’ Pat?
He runs around, this old town
Carrying this and that.
But then these two love each other
As anyone can note
Margaret cares for Pat, and
Pat cares for her with dote!
Now Margaret’s birthday party
Has now been in full swing
The food and grubs been eaten
The wine has gone, and went.
There’s only one more thing to do, is
Sing, “Happy Birthday to you, Margaret”.

© Nick Rigazzi-Tarling 09/08/2009

Hero

A hero’s born to normal life
A babe as any other
But then along comes war or strife
Which changes life forever

This quiet man that lives among
The brash and bullish figures
He doth wake up one early dawn
To find his strength envigoured

The battlefield is man’s own hell
Where bullets and bombs are kings
They break a man and lay him down
Among the sod once clean

Along this bloody battlefield
Are men all cowed and scared
They hide behind what bits they can
Of men once fallen there

Among these men our cowed young friend
A light awakens him
A strength he’s never seen before
Is welling up, within

His mind is clear
He must renew his life’s ambition filled
So up he gets and forward steps
To tackle foes and fears

He marches o’er those plains of death
To tackle man’s own devil
He quickly quells the Gates of Hell
And finds His Son arisen

A little babe once born of man
Has now just seen the light
Thro’ mirth and death, he has come
Of God’s own precious Son

A hero’s born, but not of man
His strength at last revealed
And now the brash and bullish men
Bow down before him, quelled.

© Nick Rigazzi-Tarling 07/08/2009

A Poem Writ

Today I have been racking, my old brains
To see if I could think of funny things to say
But the mind is rank, and it’s all gone blank
As I try to see what rhymes with ‘my old brains’.
But all I can ever think of is
“The thought’s gone down the drains!”

I’m trying to think of Masters that have come and gone
The way they write a poem is always like a song.
They write about The Daffodils and Old Mills By The Stream
What I write seems trifling in esteem.
So writing little poems, can be quite absurd,
It sounds as tho’ I’m living in a long lost dream (or turd).

© Nick Rigazzi-Tarling 06/08/2009

August 5th

Tomorrow I am going to the town market
To see what I can get.
Some batteries, rechargeable or ordinary
And a folder, for my little pet.

There’s a carpet strip in Tesco’s
That I would like to see
It would go well in the porch of my tent
And help to keep it clean.

So there we have tomorrow
I hope the weather is dry
I don’t like to wear a raincoat
‘Cos there hot and may cry.

© Nick Rigazzi-Tarling 04/08/2009

August 4th

August 4th was once tomorrow
But now it is today
I am going out with Peter
Like going out to play.

Were going out to PC World
To get all technical
To check up on some laptops
And choose one – suitable

The computer is an essential tool
In today’s world, don’t you know?
To communicate easily
Is an essential way to go.

To talk to family across the world
Is a special delight.
So get yourself a laptop
And get connected up to Skype.

The other things that one could do
On a fast, computer
Is to play some serious games
I.e. fly a plane, or drive an American choo choo.

A laptop is very mobile
So lets go out and ponder
On which laptop would suit you best
And get connected to wireless, and perhaps, Blue Yonder.

© Nick Rigazzi-Tarling 04/08/2009

Tomorrow Today

Today is August the third
Another day in the quest
To write in a few words on a topic
And try to do our best.

A poem a day can be hard to write
Particularly on a theme
The theme this month is tomorrow
Harder than any that’s been!

To write a few words in a poem
Can be hard for some, don’t you know
You have to think of what to write
So perhaps we’ll wait for t’morrow.

© Nick Rigazzi-Tarling 03/08/2009

Tomorrow

They say that tomorrow never comes
But tomorrow is always here
Today was just tomorrow
And yesterday’s gone from here

But when you are a Christian
And think about tomorrow
You think of Joy and Heavenly things
And promises, not sorrow.

So when this earthly body
Starts to wither and decay
Does the spirit, come tomorrow
Look forward for the ‘day’.

© Nick Rigazzi-Tarling 02/08/2009

BN55CXY – A poem

BN55CXY is the car that comes by
To take Iris dancing
And give it a try.
The driver is Peter
In frilly shirt and in tights
Looks like they’ll be going
Regency dancing tonight

They both go old English dancing
At least three times a week.
To Ashford, Shepperton and Hampton –
A nice little treat.
They also go at weekends
So good at dancing they’ve been
They even get invites
To other dancing whoopees.

You may think that I’m left out
Of this ‘Hey for Three’,
‘Cos I have a passion
That does beholden me.
For I like to sit in fields
And find pastures anew.
So I pack up my tent
And my ‘billy’ for stew.

So don’t think I’m alone
On nights such as these.
I’m dreaming of nights under canvas
With Thelma and Louise!!

© Nick Rigazzi-Tarling 31/07/09

Bring Us Peace

To know
or not to know.
To learn
is to know.
To talk
is to know.
But how much must we know?
Does one man know enough to rule?
The family?
The boss at work?
The country?
The world?
No – this is not enough.
There must be communication
Between the leaders and the people.
Diktats are made without the people.
Bad governments are made without the people.
Concencus politics is a way forward.
Communism, left or right wing
Are extremes governments and wrong.
Look at the past.
Look at Dictators.
Ideologues.
Religious rulers.
Look at …….
Governing without the ‘common man’
Creates disorder and dissent.
Dissent and disorder creates disharmony
Disharmony creates anarchy.
Why are we here?
To die in a blaze of Glory?
No that is for the Glorious Leaders
They send these young men to their deaths.
To die in Peace?
Then, Bring Us Peace!

© Nick Rigazzi-Tarling 31/07/09