Bully Boy 2

I was not happy with the rhythm of this poem earlier but I still loved the story so if it feels familiar, that's the reason.

BULLY BOY 

BLAARP! The air horn blasted from at least a k behind –

Nice to get the warning but there’s no passing spot to find.

The narrow verge is wet and the bull dust’s turned to slime

I know I can pull over if he gives me space and time.

I sit on the speed limit, hardly daring to look back.

BLAARP!  This feels like flack in an enemy attack

But the monster there behind me is catching up I’m sure.

BLAARP! Not a friendly toot but an intimidating roar.

I’m travelling faster than I ever think is right.

I watch him bearing down on me, a terrifying sight.

I’m way above the limit – but he’s huge with towering load

I’m so focused on him, hardly looking at the road.

Damn! I missed a driveway. I’m far too fast to turn

But in this highway nightmare I’ve still a lot to learn.

I put my blinkers on to let him know I’m pulling over

It’s like a deadly version of the children's game Red Rover.

At last I see a gravel pit with space to turn and hide

I brake and leave the road with a dramatic sideways slide.

I sit there trembling with my nerves all shot to hell

I think, now that I’ve survived, I’ll have a tale to tell.

One last blast and he thunders past then begins to brake.

After all that blatant aggro, he dares me to overtake.

He’s watching me in the mirror and sends a quick salute

A middle-finger greeting from a bully and a brute.

I edge in there behind him and slow to match his pace

Never game to pass him now he’s made this into a race.

I know he’d sit behind me and blast his rotten horn

I lift my head with purpose and hope he can feel my scorn.

So I try to feel complacent and hope I look the same

As I sit there in the roadway trying not to play his game.

But closer, ever closer I allow myself to creep

Then I summon all my courage and give a small defiant ...BEEP

Summer in the Mountains

My Canadian friends are waiting for snow
As the Winter falls are unseasonably slow.
In the streets of London it would seem
That a white Christmas is just a dream.

My kids in Brissie are starting to wilt
As the heat of Summer hits to the hilt
And the tree already looks old and weak
Though Christmas is not until next week.

But I've been driving the Alpine Way
With chilly nights and glorious days.
I woke today to a beautiful show -
Sunshine on a dusting of pristine snow.

When I talk to others about their reasons
They often say they follow the seasons.
For most that means they follow the sun -
They head north before Winter's begun.

But people like me who dislike the heat
We march (or drive) to a different beat.

If we stay in the north, we know the score –

Heat, cyclones, floods, and fires galore.

If we go south, it’s a whole new game

We may have heat and fires, just the same.

But there’s always the chance, you never know

That even in Summer, there’ll be glorious snow

And the campervan rocked

It's been a while since my campervan rocked
At night it's always securely locked
It's designed for one, night or day
And certainly no room for play.

But tonight my campervan rocks
Almost bouncing off its chocks.
Checking the security of things
Unintentionally testing the springs

When I've seen other vans rocking and shaking
It's because of enthusiastic love making
I'd like to say that's what happened to me
But imagination outstrips the reality.

The clouds had gathered all through the day
And the wind had come in over the bay.
Those who were camping felt it the most
Especially those of us close to the coast

The camp site was shaded with ancient trees
Not the best place in an Antarctic Breeze
I steered clear of  where the foliage was dense
And hunkered down close in to a fence.

Thunder and lightning came again and again
The metal roof was hammered with rain
The campervan huddled down into the hedge
With not much protection there at the edge.

But the rain on the roof

It's been a while since my campervan rocked

At night it's always securely locked

It's designed for one, night or day

And certainly no room for play.

But tonight my campervan rocks

Almost bouncing off its chocks.

Checking the security of things

Unintentionally testing the springs

When I've seen other vans rocking and shaking

It's because of enthusiastic love making

I'd like to say that's what happened to me

But imagination outstrips the reality.

The clouds had gathered all through the day

And the wind had come in over the bay.

Those who were camping felt it the most

Especially those of us close to the coast

The camp site was shaded with ancient trees

Not the best place in an Antarctic breeze.

I steered clear of where the foliage was dense

And hunkered down close in to a fence.

Thunder and lightning came again and again

The metal roof was hammered with rain

The campervan huddled down into the hedge

With not much protection there at the edge.

It reminds me of childhood and sleeping at night

Relishing the sound of rain in the fading light,

Knowing the thunder will ease by and by

While the rain sings a natural lullaby.

So, although my van rocked madly that night,

I remained calm and tucked in tight

Other vans rocking might mean more fun

But I was asleep before the rain had begun.