Thursday, June 18, 2026

Beavertown in Egypt


The Beaver is making his digs

Indirectly assisting Hippos ferrying over 

Desert Dunes near the banks amongst twigs

What? A new pipeline crossing, Dude!


Floating on the Nile the 

Beaver slaps its tail

It booms 

The sound from that slap sends 

Fear across its neighbours

A tail always ready to whack

A tail threatened can overreact.


What to do?  What for? 

Spit out some Cold Peanuts -or just any plain ol' nut 

Step and crunch on it

There's a buzz overhead 

Just by the shore.

Fire! Bang Bang! Let's even the score.


We are south of the Straight of Hormuz

This courageous beaver,

Swims underwater -without a snorkel

Bubbling, artfully making a comeback to the shores

Drones above hardly take notice

Hey! Was it their noise, another sottise! 


Good swimmers, beavers learn to steer and navigate with their tail

And on land, they "tail up" to gain a few inches to gnaw down a tree

Or just gnaw to gnaw


When in Ancient Egypt beaver damns flooded the 

Bathroom of Queen Cleopatra

And plumbers didn't know how to deal with the

Glug, glug, glug.

It was said weeks were needed 

To debug her drain that was full of slugs


Today our Beaver  paddles through oily  waters 

In a military zone where

Hydrocarbons seep into its thick fur.

At night this industrious Egyptian mammal 

Dreams 

Not of green forests nor polka dot mushrooms, 

Rather of large pipes seeping black oil on the sand that reflect a dark sky 

Dreams of oil tankers without

Transponders going Ping! Ping! Ping!


The beaver hears a splash and  squints its eyes 

It sees an upside down black duck

Dunking its orange beak into the murky waters

The usual


Then it edges towards a metal door emitting a low sounding buzz 

It's an uranium cache, 

a good place to spend the night

And snuggle against the desert's cold

Yet weeks later the beaver's tail glows in the darkness

Even the silent hippos take notice of the freaky scenario


The hard working  beaver knows there is a price to pay 

Hormuz, a household name, is a nightmare

The furry vessel knows it is traversing a critical line 

Eat, eat, its Mum would say

Some crispy scarabs and chewy worms will do


Kismet has it that this mighty animal is always 

Humble of its achievements.

Just examine its teeth shining from having chewed through a recent pipeline.




 

Sunday, June 7, 2026

The Croissant on the Fence



 



I lived in a house
A fenced in house 
That gently divided me from my friendly neighbour Anne

And since so friendly she was
On Sunday mornings
I
Swung by the bakery 
Always picking up  and extra croissant for Anne
For Anne delighted in each delivery 
Flowering me with French expressions of gratitude 
"Oui, vous ĂȘtes trop gentil, monsieur!"

This lasted some years till one day Anne was gone
An unexpected move that nobody saw
Her back yard that she always attended to was empty
Her cat, Mimi, that she always watched over and 
Went on little walks with as if it were a dog
Was nowhere to be heard or seen

A winter season after Anne's departure
I was set to leave on my bike
(The Sunday croissant was never a question
Crispy and light, with a fine slab of butter and jam)
And there, low and behold
Was a Croissant
Poked between the fence's stakes 
No Anne
No Mimi
Just a fresh Croissant waiting to be loved and chewed.