A Small Grey Coffee-Pot

It's World Poetry Day so I've used Humbert Wolfe's words to accompany my image.


Like a small grey
coffee-pot,
sits the squirrel.
He is not

all he should be,
kills by dozens
trees, and eats
his red-brown cousins.

The keeper on the
other hand,
who shot him, is
a Christian, and

loves his enemies,
which shows
the squirrel was not
one of those.


My yellow Honda S2000 sailed through the MOT this morning. We had put the blue one, SORNed since it failed the MOT in 2019, on charge yesterday as one of MrQ's mates wants the greenhouse glass stored in the shed. She started first time! I tried to drive her out but she wouldn't budge. I fixed the towing eye on and we managed to move her, after some difficulty, with the tractor. I was then able to drive her up and down the drive a few times. I got a kick out of the fact that she's still a runner.