Orchard Lines by marge. No.21 in my series of LINES.

We were on a road trip from our

home in Yorkshire, to look at Castles,

In the Hereford, Gloucester area.

As a passenger on a long journey,

you see so much, some things

you did not expect. I saw Orchards,

Apple Orchards.

I was surprised at the sizes of them.

Apple trees, as far as the eye could see.

Red Apples, Green Apples, apples of every sort.

Some trees must be late flowering,

Showing lots and lots of blossom.

Then I discovered something else,

some fields were full of young trees,

hardly any fruit at all. Then, fields full

of medium trees with a good crop of apples.

Old, mature trees, still well fruited,

but trunks and branches old and

gnarled. I thought it is a Production

Line based over three fields.

The fields were hedged for protection,

The trees all planted in neat lines,

just like soldiers standing to attention.

Some diagonal lines, some straight.

What a fantastic sight, not at all

Like my beloved Yorkshire.

What do we Plant? By Henry Abbey.

What do we plant when we plant the tree?

We plant the ship, which will cross the sea.

We plant the mast to carry the sails;

We plant the planks to withstand the gales -

The keel, the keelson, the beam, the knee;

We plant the ship when we plant the tree.

What do we plant when we plant the tree?

We plant the houses for you and me.

We plant the rafters, the shingles, the floors,

We plant the studding, the lath, the doors,

The beams and siding, all parts that be;

We plant the house when we plant the tree.

What do we plant when we plant the tree?

A thousand things that we daily see;

We plant the spire that out-towers the crag,

We plant the staff for our country's flag,

We plant the shade, from the hot sun free;

We plant all these when we plant the tree.

A Poem to Share by Lynda Flint.

Our song.

Our song the sorrow haunts.
The stifled breeze hangs,
Haunted.
Flutters the wing of a hawk,
Bating.
Fretful.
Piercing gold eye,
Sees through and beyond,
To our destiny.
Calling, evocatively,
From sunbeam shafts.
Golden, mesmerised,
Burnt copper too.
Shifting endlessly.
Rustling boundaries
Tithed to each other.

Our sorrow, is a song, the tune unheeded yet.

NOTE: Lynda is one of my Poetry Friends.

White Lines on the Roads by marge. No. 19 in my series of poems on LINES.

Most of our roads have them,

for our safety.

It is best to keep on your own

side of them,

for your own safety.

In the Highlands of Scotland

there are no white lines, roads

so narrow you need passing places

for your own safety.

Which white line

do you like to follow?

to the shops, spending money?

Going on holiday by car with a tent

or Caravan on the back, kids and dog

on the back seat, being noisy and happy.

Where will the white line take you

for your holiday

happiness?

3 Poems on the theme of Money by marge.

You know it’s funny

About this thing

Called money

You’ve either

      Got it

     Or - not!

---------------------------

Money, Money, Money!

Sang Fagin as he hoarded it

Spend, spend, spend,

Said the lady from Castleford

As she went from rags to

Riches and back to rags.

Money, Money, Money!

Is no good in the Bank

So what is the point of

Keeping it, but you need

Moderation in all things,

Spend some, share some,

Money, money, money!

Keep some for that

“Rainy Day” or old age!

--------------------------

Money haiku

Money can make us

humans, happy or make them

Sad, too, too sad

Shadow Lines by marge. No 18 in my series of poems on LINES.

Shadow Lines.

Bright, bright summer day

White clouds, lovely blue sky

Bright, bright green fields

Large mature tree shields

Us from the heat of the sun

Which makes shadows, such fun.

The strong wooden fencings

Shadowed on the pavings

Strong fences to keep animals

From harm or to sit on -  casuals.

Rafters by marge. No. 17 in my series of poems on the theme of LINES.

Wooden, strong “A” frames,

holding rafters in place.

Supporting the roofs

from time immemorial.

Ancient rafter still holding

their shape, even though the

roofs were long gone.

We can see beginnings of

Architecture.

Today, warehouses have

strong steel arches, but still

rafters, but will they be

there in hundreds of years?

We all love the black and

white Tudor buildings,

we become all romantic about

them. We travel miles to

admire them.

Flour Mills, have dusty

rafters, old and patterned

by age and use, nibbled by

insects, nails and screw holes

making unwitting decoration

Rafters show Strength,

Shapes and Shadows,

Inspire Admiration,

Age, Usefulness, Interesting.

Fear of who or what

Maybe Hiding…..