Monday 21 September 2020

Venison sausages...



A TORRIDON PICNIC

A perfect morning, clear and bright,
We walked from Diabaig to Craig,
And found a peaceful picnic site,
Escaping politics and plague.

A herd of deer peeped o’er the cliff
Just for a moment, then were gone.
Was it my bark, or did they sniff,
Gail’s sausage made from venison…?

14 comments:

  1. we love it!!! and we hope it was your bark LOL

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  2. Just beautiful and the sausages sound so yummy!

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  3. Hari OM
    OMD Bertie - this would have been great FFF offering... now work on another!!! &*> What wonderful peace must have been felt as you pondered yon hills and water and wildlife...sigh... hugs and wags, YAM-aunty xxx

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    1. Sadly Aunty, the poetic muse does not work to order!
      Toodle pip!
      Bertie.

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  4. Bertie....you are a 187% poet.
    Well done my friend....this line is universal
    "Escaping politics and plague".
    I expect you might be right the deer got a whiff of distant relatives. BOL BOL BOL
    Hugs Cecilia

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  5. Bertie we love your poem and those beautiful pictures that went along with it. What a perfect day for a hike and picnic.

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  6. I hope you got a nibble of that sausage, and I hope it was as lovely an experience as the photos and poem were.

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  7. Very well versed story, Bertie. We think those deer were drawn by your handsomeness.

    Woos - Lightning, Misty, and Timber

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  8. Mmmmmmm....sausages

    OH, sorry Bertie, we got sidetracked! Such a lovely poem and a beautiful hike!

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  9. Bambi... we love the poem, but if Gail remembers the movie she will know why the female human (who saw the movie as a child and then again at a special screening in London in the 80's) still will not eat vension even though the male one in this house loves it so much we have some in our freezer! Love and woofs, Riley.

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  10. OMD, that is too cool Bertie! I would LOVES to escape the politics and Ma yelling at the teevees at some peeps called RePUBlicans. All I hear is PUB and thinks of beers and margaritas! Anyhu, I would have loved to have a taste of that delish sounding snausage!!!
    Kisses,
    Ruby ♥

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  11. What a lovely poem, and yeah, we think it was the sausages.

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