Idyll (To Vaughan-Williams soundtrack)

It is one of those days on a hillside

When the warm sun creates a hazy horizon

So distant hills and sky merge into one

Negative ions are abounding,

As is your sense of wellbeing

You lie down, your head against the sheep sheared grass

Two buzzards gyre and gyre across the sky

Lazily circling, a deceptive picture of peace

For these are deadly, feathered,

Search and destroy units

Mesmeric, relaxing images to you

Instant death to a ‘lesser’ being

And the skylarks are singing

And the grasshoppers are chirring

And, with a lump in your throat, you realise

In a moment’s personal epiphany

This is not some blue remembered nostalgia

But a realisation of what is now.

Poor Benny Bunny was out of sorts

In the face of dreadful school reports

“You must do better” Mrs Bunny said,

To which Benny could only shake his head

“It ain’t my fault, I feel well abused

“I can’t help it if I get confused

“I will try my best but I can tell

Something’s wrong, I am not feeling well”

“Mmm” said his mother, “We shall soon see,

“I’m taking you to see Doctor C”

So off they hopped into their car

And drove to the rocks where the rapids are

To Doc Cod’s surgery (far from the sea,

How does he manage? Don’t ask me!)

The kindly doc looked over his glasses

“Now, young Ben, What’s wrong with your classes?”

“I get confused about all those numbers,

“I worry so it upsets my slumbers”

“Yes, but before I can find a cause

“Count up for me upon your paws”

“Um, 1 and 2, 7, 6 and then….

“….er…9, 5. 8, 3 and then comes 10?”

“Now I know, it is quite clear to me

“The dire nature of your malady…

“What might be my diagnosis?

“Clearly, you have Mixupyertoeses”

My cat, Perks, is an old curmudgeon,

Living life in a state of high dudgeon

One of four, he tolerates Bert and doesn’t mind Fatty

But when it comes to Patch he has nothing but enmity

Hissing and spitting and muttering wild,

Like a spoilt and thwarted detestable child



And he doesn’t like wind, hates cold and despises any rain

Preferring the indoors and associated bladder pain

Making his evident displeasure known

With flattened ears and a glowering frown.

If you call him standoffish you would understate the case

He hates a cuddle or stroke as you would see from his face



So that’s Perks, unsocial in every way…

…But then meet him at certain times each day,

He will twist and turn about your legs, acting as if your friend

Looking up with eyes of love, for he has a message to send:

“It’s getting on and my tum is empty,

Come on! Hurry up and FEED ME! FEED ME!”