Hobbo's Poems
A quirky look at life from a Yorkshire poet and his dog's perspective
Springtime
Springtime Woody fingers silhouetted, Spring sap rising warm, has wetted Buds which break out in the sunlight, Leaves unfurl before the bun-fight. Birds find voices, sing in choirs Courting couple, stops, admires. Cherry blossom, pink confetti, Winter blues, forgotten, petty. Springtime bloom, a time for giving, Breathes fresh life in all things living. A chance to start afresh, renew So where'd I put that barbecue?
Hobbo's Poems 
Don’t get the barbecue out! You know what’ll happen… ☔️
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Very true! Social barbecues are verboten here at the moment!
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That’s great Hobbo!
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Cheers!
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Great stuff. Can’t wait for bbq season.
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Definitely!
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You don’t do winter barbecues?? Where’s your adventurous spirit? Just turn it up! 🙂 Lovely poem. Lots to celebrate in there!
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Thanks! We bought a little electric barbie last year, and it’s brilliant. Saves all the faff.
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Electric barbie? Wow! I’ll have to look into that. If we just have that indoors, then we won’t have the mosquitoes or the smoke. 😉 Oh hang on, that’s a stove.
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😂 We used to use the leccy one all the time in our camper-vanning days.
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Lovely poem, Mr. H, now get the shrimp on the barbi! 😉
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Thank you, will do!
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❤
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