Poem two: a limerick

Nearing a week together, our band of 15 travelers, one guide (Jacky), and one bus driver (Janos), drove country lanes wide enough (maybe) for our medium-sized bus. Unfortunately, these were two-way lanes which couldn’t accommodate on oncoming car plus our bus. A lot of jockeying around occurred, leading many of us to marvel at the driving prowess of our driver. Guide Jacky asked us all to participate in a limerick contest. I did not win, a travesty I’m still wounded o’er, but I console myself that the judging was lax. (The winner claimed the top prize because he totally ignored the rhyme scheme of a limerick!)

R.O.C.K. in the ol’ U.K.

The Beatles had nothing on us
Nor The Who with its Magic Bus.
Led on by guide Jacky,
We’ve grown rather wacky,
As we’re driven by the good kind Janos!

Poem one: Scotland

A friend from the blogosphere is publishing 100 poems in 100 days. I’ve decided to at least try to do that, and I’m going to try to catch up with her by publishing multiple poems per day for a week or so. While in Scotland just about 30 days ago, riding along in a tour bus, I marveled at the ubiquitous sheep and the beautiful landscape out the window.

In Southern Scotland

Sheep dot grassy fields, 
Their sides shagging wool. 
Clouds scud through skies,
Like inverted sheep, woolly 
sides down. Dark ones 
Sprinkle naturally holy water:
Priests of nature, they
Remind all—sheep, cows, 
Tourists in buses—of our
Divine brotherhood.