Seagull

on the grey roof below my window
youthful seagull flaps and crows
harassing a bored parent
who turns with an irritated shrug of her wing
as if from a stranger

fledgling follows, begging
persisting in his  ruthless lament
threatening, ready to peck
but each time he approaches she backs away

I watch the dippy dappy flapping dance
and my imagination prompts me to translate:
“mum, I’m huuungry. pleease feeed me…
“What’s in your craw? I’m hungry.
“I’M HUNGRY! FEED ME.
“I’M HUNGRY! DON’T IGNORE ME.
“I’ll RIP YOUR THROAT OPEN IF YOU DON’T FEED ME.
“COME BACK HERE. FEED ME.
“OPEN YOUR BEAK IMMEDIATELY.”

“POOR ME. CAW! ME! CAW CAW CAW”

Mum’s been silent, but she’s had enough.
She opens her beak and she screeches
high pitched, as if in grief
then opening her wings she lifts from the roof
and flies away.
baby struts, his webbed feet flapping angrily
his brindled feathers fluffing like
cotton exploding from a pod.
he struts, he fluffs, he flaps, he crows,
he struts and fluffs then craps and flows
flying, lifting, wings batting, beating, then stilling
as he slides the slipstream
looking for his dinner

on the ground
two sisters quarrel like seagulls

one stomps off
the other follows, growling
“Wait for me.”

©Jane Paterson Basil

New Beginnings – Wild Boar Wood.

Five Photos. Five Stories. Day 2

Thank you Calen at Impromptu Promptlings for nominating me for this fun challenge. For anyone who hasn’t seen Calen’s lovely inspiring site, I recommend that you check it out now.

.
            the first 
           rays of dawn
             seeping 
        through cream canvas
            caressing 
          my eyelids open
            gave a smile 
             to my lips
       I lay still and gazed
   at the dappled golden shadows
   painted onto the thin ceiling
  artwork supplied by kindly trees

  I listened to the tweeting birds
     singing of new beginnings

© Jane Paterson Basil

The Five Photos, Five Stories Challenge rules require you to post a photo each day for five consecutive days and attach a story to the photo. It can be fiction or non-fiction, a poem or simply a short paragraph – it’s entirely up to you.

Then each day, nominate another blogger to carry on this challenge.

Accepting the challenge is entirely up to the person nominated, it is not a command. Today, I’m inviting Lynn Love at Word Shamble to join the challenge.

Those Ancient Hills

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Places.”

Those ancient hills of Devon

carved and sculpted into wild beauty

by millenia of harsh and gentle weather

trampled by roaming sentient creatures

what have they seen,

those silent rocks

exposed above the rough ground?

what colours in the skies above?

what visual poetry have they witnessed

and what forgotten life forms

have died beside them?

should I never again romp those hills

should my eyes close without a final view

or my ears have no last opportunity

to hear birds singing in those English trees

the growl of a distant tractor ploughing a field

and the laughter of my siblings

while the church bells chime out their music

calling the faithful to church in the nearby village

still all of my senses will unfold to the memories

of a child playing and skipping, possessing the world

running up and rolling down those beloved ancient hills.

© Jane Paterson Basil