Nonsense Poem

​As I listened to the cries 
Of scolding cackling crows,
I wondered what cunning lies
Their wicked chatter told.
 
Shuffling my feet through sheaves of leaves,
While a blue racoon howled at the moon,
I was regaled by snails and their tales
Of a hungry loon who’d swallowed a spoon.
 
On I strode, ‘til I reached the sand,
Where, like nuns escaped from cloisters.
Frolicking madly hand-in-hand,
Danced a chorus of boisterous oysters.
 
Grateful for this connection to Mother Nature’s perfection,
I realised,
Gratitude is not a platitude but an attitude, 
A daily exercise.
 
 
 
22 Oct 2019