Tag Archives: weather

I haven’t published any poems for some time, so I thought I’d share the following for #WorldPoetryDay.

These were written at the “Creativity with the Spirit” evening (13 Nov 2017) during Scottish Interfaith Week. They don’t follow a traditional Japanese 5-7-5 syllable structure (this departure is apparently quite common nowadays). “On the Spot”, as all six were written in the course of about 20 minutes, with no further editing.

flakes in the air
first snowfall
or volcanic eruption

mist in the air
forgot the brolly
up goes the hood

autumn morn
the Clyde like glass
leaf falling on water

springtime here
still bundled up
where are the blooms?

Saturday morn
lie-in expected
binmen disrupt

Shabbat morn on the bus
yet on the streets
life goes on

Glasgow, 21 March 2018

The Grinch went out, with cap in hand
He saw some friends upon the strand
Got very wet; to home adjourned
Upon arrival the sun returned
(briefly) 😡

His cap gone missing, umbrella was busted
Ten days of rain, if forecast is trusted
Homebound he’ll be till the weather does break
Unless DMI did make a mistake.
(often) 😳

Resolved to search along the strand
The cap was found where it did land!
Many had passed, but none did grab it
’cause trusting is a Danish habit.
Crisis averted! 🙂

at Aalborg Regatta 2013
updated with additional verses 15. oktober 2013


(with apologies to Israel Beilin)

I’m dreaming of a white Chanukah
just like the ones I used to know
with the dreidels spinning
and children winning
some gelt, by the candles’ glow.

I’m dreaming of a white Chanukah
with every latke I devour
thinking: not by might, not by power
but by spirit alone do we flower.

Aalborg, den 2. tevet 5773

Snowman on frozen lake

Snowman on frozen Lake Saimaa, Puumala, Finland
Photo by Petritap


Fleeting first flurries flawlessly flying
flakes flitting farther
feebly falling to fjord and flat fields

Friends fabricate a favorite:
fat, festive, fairyland figure “Frosty”
festooned with fashionable fingers
frippery from firs, foraged from forest floor.

Fabulous!? ‘fraid not
Frosty’s frail, fears flames
Fate: to fizzle,
from frozen to floe to flood

After a fortnight, further flakes
frisky fellows fervently form Frosty afresh!

Fret not!
Finale, a fitting (formidable) aphorism:
“Forbearance fundamental:
frequent are ephemeral phenomena.”

from the Firth of Lime, foreign Aalborg

Sleeping late, arose at eight
nasty weather’s arrived from Britain
shall I at home then stay a-sittin’?

From weather vane, I ascertain
wind and rain, and thus campaign:
remain on the plains in Spain
refrain from the Danes’ terrain!

Do the shopping? Un-Shabbat thing
called for: a break from week’s activities
shopping, one of those pleasing proclivities.

And one must eat, so it’s off to the shops
technically possible to dodge raindrops
yet haven’t the knack, the speed do I lack.

Back in one piece, no worse for wear
despite the wet, enjoyed the fresh air
sitting now with a hot cuppa,
finishing this before making supper.

from Aalborg

A week of fab weather, a romp in the heather?
There’s lots to be found around here.
Storm clouds now expected, but we’re not dejected
just strap on the wet weather gear.

You’ll be needing your wellies whilst eating Pimms jellies
and hoisting a glass to the Queen.
Sixty years on the throne, we’ve been jolly well shown
of royals she’s truly the dean.

Now, let’s not be skittish, we’re proud to be British
despite all the whinging and whining.
We do love a blether, a knock at the weather
yet clouds have their own silver lining.

Thanks to Kay Cullen for the unintentional inspiration for the jellies

on the train to Roskilde

Det er maj

Solen skinner
men en kold vind blæser gennem min krop

Unge mænd har korte bukser på
men andre bærer vinterjakker

Iskiosken i parken åbnes
men jeg har lyst til en kop varm te

Træerne begynder at blomstre
men ikke på min side af gaden

Livet har mange men’er
aldrig bare sort eller hvidt

It is May

The sun is shining
but a cold wind blows through my body

Young men are wearing shorts
but others don winter coats

The ice cream stand in the park has opened
but I feel like a cup of hot tea

The trees are beginning to bloom
but not on my side of the street

Life has many buts
never just black or white

from Aalborg

(with apologies to Israel Beilin)

I’m dreaming of a white Pesach
Not like the ones I used to know
Where parents coerce,
children to rehearse
To chant the Question re: ma-tzo.

I’m dreaming of a white Pesach
With every matzo (it’s not grated)
May the seder let you be sated
And your week not end constipated.

(from slightly snowy Aalborg; either that or fallout from another Icelandic volcanic eruption)

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