Scan

Scan

No stones,

Still got my bones!

No sign that I've bled -

Not on my death bed!

Very relieved 

I've not conceived! 

A few tests to go

But oh, so slow 🦥.

She scanned my kidneys, spleen

Saw them on the screen!

The liver and other insides

Saw so much far and wide!

The liver, inflamed

Needs to be tamed!

Lack of cells that are red,

Tired, early to bed.

Eat my weekly steak -

Fishcakes, milkshakes!

But more bloods to take,

A root around

To see what’s found!

A deeper rake

(Is a bit of a bellyache)

To try to avoid mistakes.

Liver inflamed -

Is diet to blame?!

Bloods still not right

So still a red light.

A medical mystery?

Might go down in history!

Still feel a bit sick -

And appointments not quick!

It might be the pills 

That are causing the ills!

Until the next test,

It's good progress!

Feeling less distressed 

As they look and invest.

They might just find

My peace of mind.

Copyright Linda Lawrence

27^th August 2026

A burst of yellow

 

A burst of yellow

Somewhere in the troposphere over Atlantic and Med sea,

You’re carried along the thermal winds flying so freely.

If you survive the journey here, there are no guarantees;

Robust these little creatures, brave and so gutsy!

So dainty and delicate but powerfully strong,

You let the winds blow you on a journey so long.

High enough to stay safe and away from birdsong

In the clouds, above the ground helping you along.

A whole day of flying from May to early June,

Driven by our weather fronts in front of a full moon.

You are only slightly bigger than a tablespoon!

Basking in the sun from morning to late afternoon.

A massive cloud of yellow finally descends.

You stay here in our grasslands until it’s time for your ascent.

To the amazement of devotees to our eyes behold,

Your colours of upper wings of pretty yellow and marigold.

Watch you flitter from flower to flower to see you feed,

On nectar, wild flowers and some common weeds.

On our pastures you leave your eggs as you mate and breed.

From you so glad you leave us something of your seed.

And the ladies of white, so pretty a Helice they are named

Take a photo of this pretty female – put her in a frame!

From Africa, Middle East, Greece, Italy to Spain,

Until they land on our shores in the UK once again.

You cannot survive our winters, for you it is too cold

For a cold blooded insect on the sunshine you are sold.

Your colours are so stunning, from orange to green gold

This year you’ve been seen from Scotland to Cotswolds!

Your beautiful black borders, such a handsome little fellow!

It was overwhelming to meet and greet a migrant Clouded Yellow.

Close your wings and rest, see spots of greeny-yellow.

Enjoy your stay in Britain with your foodstuff in our meadows!

Copyright Linda Lawrence

16^th August 2026

Daylight murder

 

Daylight murder

You’re back again you murderers!

Destroying their abodes.

Chop them down with your cutters

Because it’s not far from a road.

Bats, badgers, amphibians, birds,

Habitats, all living things.

Woody shrubs, sheltered and safe.

Such diversity they bring.

Foodstuff for little creatures,

All gone in one crude swipe.

We can’t live without our bees

Or other kinds of wildlife.

They bring joy to little people -

Smiles of pure delight!

Colours of beauty on the eye -

Have you really got that right?

Keep using your man made machines

Your behaviour is malign.

Our creatures keep on struggling

And already in decline.

Eggs, caterpillars, chrysalis ,

And now they’re in demise

You must keep Britain tidy

But you’ll kill the butterflies.

Planted in, such small trees

Takes years for them to grow.

Now reaching out, your hydraulic arm

Along the pretty hedgerow.

Beetles, grubs, millions of insects,

Their safe migration pathways.

All gone in one fell swoop;

You just had to clear the way.

They don’t own the earth

Nor do those who live here

We were given to love and see

We cry but you don’t hear.

Copyright Linda Lawrence

8^th August 2026

Bone-dry

 

Bone-dry

Cars unwashed, plants are dying

We’re in a drought , there’s no denying.

Wild fires, forests all ablaze,

Mile on mile of smokey haze.

A punctured pipe that’s not been fixed

The South-East again, has been jinxed.

Line up in heat for our supplies,

Our taps, again have run dry.

Yet again, a water restriction

We’re so fed up with contradictions!

The grass is brown, we’re all struggling

And our new water bills are very puzzling.

Raw sewage spilt in the sea;

What is to become of you and me?

Drips of water from our taps.

The spiel you’ve given is just pure crap.

Now another massive leak

Used sticking plaster, give it a tweak.

Litres of water flood the road

The bottled water, saved up loads.

Thanks to your failure of supply,

Everything we look at is bone-dry.

There’s poo that we can’t flush away,

Down the loo it has to stay.

So when can you tell me why

The real reason why taps have run dry?

Without the need for excuses or lies,

When we need it most, in hot July.

On the beach, shells, pretty bits and pieces,

Mixed with raw sewage with stinking faeces.

The basic human right of seaside

Has become so dangerous, now people have died.

Allowed to swim in toxic ocean

Not one of us had a notion

They tell us shareholders will have to pay

For the mistakes you have made today.

Copyright Linda Lawrence

7^th August 2026