The steps at the end of my street.
Saturday morning. Exercise!
Once neatly cleared by council
But for some time, forgotten
Thank you!
That dense
Very much alive
Spring green
~ do plants puff as they get higher?
Saturday, Spring
The Joy of
To hope and hats, today we cling.
Ah, the wind, the joy of Spring!
Soon summer’s heat – you’ll hear a moan,
Just good to know ~ I’m not alone.
Grandpa Club
Over four hundreds years of experience
Average age of eighty
Five of us. Croaky, happy old mates.
“It’s our Grandpa Club,” I tell the kids
Each month we’d get into a tizz
Scratching for lost recipes
Kitchen timers that had gone on leave
Each month, well, a few days before, “What am I on this month? “
A mild panic, a healthy panic. It kept us active, together.
Five of us on Soup, Main, Dessert, Wine, or
“You’ve got this month off Chris, tell us more about you!”
An old Austin
In a hurry
South Africa
Stopped by a copy
“Hey, you’re the doctor that delivered our son!”
“I’m about to do the same for a woman thirty miles away.”
“You’d better be on your way then.”
A Windy and Blustiferous Day
An inside day.
I perched myself in my ‘local
A small and more intimate place
We know each other
Easy to chat, enjoy respectable sky larking
(One day I shall become a respectable grand father)
It’s a good place, the staff are chatty, and, predict what I’m going to order. And next door, through a convenient walkway is the book shop. A very desirable way of farewelling my pension.
Today the place is more crowded. Probably because the weather outside is ‘stink’ as the younger ones say.
At a large table is seated one of our ‘older’ couples. They do look friendly.
“Do you mind if I sit at this table – I promise I’ll behave.”
“Please do, you’re most welcome. I can’t promise ‘he’ will.”
She gesticulates at her husband alongside.
An English accent. Welcoming.
They downed tools ‘back home’ and to retire, moved here to the colonies, New Zealand.
“Love the smallness,
the easy-to-get-on-with people here.”
He was a civil engineer
I describe my teaching days
“Specialised in music, creative writing, drama. Great kids, great days.”
The coffee was good
The conversation a pick me up on a Windy and Blustifereous day
That Second
That second cup of coffee
7.40am
Sunday
Just. So. Good
Now, not to face the day
But enjoy the warmth, things to do, as the sun gets higher.
Today, rain, wind and Sun
Our front porch chairs are there, ‘unsat’
Most of the day, most of the week
Except when used by next doors cat
She has a funny purr, more of a squeak
Good things take time, she’s now a mate
And with breakfast, kitchen, clean and done
She turns up all hopeful, to lick my plate
Yes, our favourite spot for morning sun
Pony
Term Holidays
Walking
Head down
Country air
Happy thoughts
A light, rhythmic canter
Eager
Closer
Trots to the fence line
Her Pony
A communion of two
University Term break
My granddaughter is home
And down at the paddock
Instant recognition
Girl, Pony, together
An elderly man
At some distance
Captivated
Mystified
Ponies are so large
I’m not quite a Pony man
Me
Poppa
Great with cats, other people’s dogs
Chuckles with grandchildren – other people’s grandchildren
Crazy stories,
Laughs
Laughs, lies and teasing
A warm tan
Those large eyes
Teeth!
‘Flick!’ of the tail
Up close, ponies are enormous
Silence of communication
Inspection
Slow trot to the Pony Yard
“Come on!”
Right front hoof raised
Stones hooked out by some
Swiss Knife for ponies thingie
Me, the grandfather
First up in the morning
First up every morning
A well rehearsed
Making of that first coffee
Early morning light
Paddocks, cows
The ponies
Are waking
Space
Silence
David Legge, June 2025.
Summer has gone
Set my Hearing Aids for Blackbirds
Three autumn leaves
A crack in the pavement
Nearby a blackbird
Love the sound of a blackbird
Strong, and clear,
A blackbird is purposeful
In the morning broadcasting
His plans for the day
My hearing these days not the best
A shame
Hearing aids,
“Now is the time Sir, your new hearing aids
What in particular
Are you listening for
And we’ll offer you hearing aids to match.”
What sort of a question is that?
‘I want to hear the footsteps on the moon!’
Nah, that’s being stupid.
I’m paying as much for these hearing aids as I would for a small car.
Why are they so pricey?
They make hundreds, no thousands, of these things.
A big machine, Whump! Whump! Stamps them out.
“Look buddy, sorry, Ma-am
(Do they still say Ma-am?)
I want to listen to my family
“Poppa, would you . . .?
“Hey Poppa look what . . .
“I’m hungry
And I want to be able to switch ‘em orf
Both the hearing aids and the family
But
Just as important:
In the morning
After the first highlight of the day –
Breakfast
I walk along the road
Up the steps
Under the trees
Blackbirds
Love the sound of blackbirds
Set my hearing aids for blackbirds please
Ma-am, Sir, buddy
And verily the hearing aids were set to blackbird
I don’t quite understand this
But hearing aids can somehow affect your balance
And
When I’m on the bike
I can hear stuff behind me
Yes
I can set ‘em for all around sound
Or diminished for restaurant clatter
A setting for music!
Bach
and the good old Sixties
Oh yeah
ABBA
I ain’t got no class Duckie
I wonder
Hearing aids
Do they make ‘em to hear in colour?
Just a thought
Could they make Chirping Aids?
For poor souls like me
Who find the price of hearing aids
. . .
A morning walk up the steps
Three autumn leaves
Black Birds
“To talk of many things: but not of shoes—and ships—and sealing-wax— of cabbages—and kings
Does a poem have to rhyme?
My first two lines do, just this time
Popper, Karl Popper
“Never heard of him!”
David Benson has
So had that kind lady
Sheet (must be dead now)
“Oh I was his secretary dear – many years ago now.”
One seat left in the whole cafe
Wellington, early seventies, a student cafe
And she beckoned me over
“Come and sit here, love.”
And what are you studying?
“Uhm, Philosophy.”
“O O O Oh.
You must have heard of Popper
Karl Popper”
“Yep.”
“Oh yes, I was his secretary.”
Karl Popper was philosphicating
philosphicating?
Lecturing
Lecturing in Christchurch
A long time ago
I never finished the degree
I have time on my side
I did finish that coffee
Thames
Saturday morning market
Greg’s $4 table of tired books
There was this book
Popper
And there was David Benson
“Oh yes,” he said
#Karl Popper,
I started philosophy
Never finished the degree.”
Two contented failures
In the dizzying depths of philosophy
The book, ‘Popper’,
I’ll leave casually on our coffee table.
And visitors will say ,
“Ooooh, an intellectual!
And
If I ever meet Popper
I can say
“Oh, Hi! David Benson
David Benson in Thames
has read a bit of your book
A likeable guy!”
“I’ll look Popper in the eye.
Now look old chap
Why don’t you brighten your book up a bit
Add a few illustrations, pictures.
No, not your cute young things in scanty summer frocks
“How about
Uhm
How about a cow in a field
Give a pastoral uplift old chap.”
I’m sure David Benson would say the same
Well, maybe David would say,
“Just one Cutey, in a bikini milking a cow or something.
.Anyway,think about it buddy”
And Karl Popper would dawdle off
Thniking about it.
One Day
David Benson will publish his book of poems
and I’ll say
“Now look old chap
Why don’t you brighten your book up a bit
Add a few illustrations, pictures,
Maybe of me
sitting on a three legged stool
milking a cow!”
And
Being a model,
Published in a book
I could make a few dollars
A a a a h
I’m not that comfortable being that close to a cow
They’re bloody big animals you know
Look
A picture of me
Holding a carton of milk
It would be a real hit!
Well, that’s me poem, no more cow
I’ll make the damn thing – rhyme somehow
.
David in Pen and Pics 