Monday, 2 February 2009

Bert the Snowman

I've just built a snowman. He's called Bert. He's composed a haiku. Since he's no good on the computer, he asked me to share it with you:

when you're made of snow
life is short: sadly it ends
when the sun comes out

Short indeed. He'll be lucky if he lasts a day or two, so I better get out there to see if he's come up with anything else...


The Weaver of Grass said...

You're a bit thin, Bert
but you look very dapper
with your enigmatic smile.

Is he named after your Grandfather, or your step-Grandfather or did he name himself as he rose out of the nettles?

Poet in Residence said...

It must have taken hours to make Bert the Snowman. He looks so tall. Or is it all about camera angle? Is he named after Albert Tatlock?

Dominic Rivron said...

WG: He's a bit thin because the consistency of the snow in our garden is such that it won't roll into big balls. He had to be built a handful at a time.

PiR: Aha! Camera angle! He's only 5 feet high. He tells me his name is a pseudonym.

Anonymous said...

cool! he's tin and tall. ours was fat and short... and wrote no poetry ;)

Anonymous said...

(I meant thin).

Poet in Residence said...

I see Bert is still there. He looks a bit slimmer though.

Poet in Residence said...

It's no good just feeding him carrots. They won't build him up.

Lucy said...

Hello Bert.


Bert said...

Hello Lucy.


Dominic Rivron said...

NN: Snowmen rarely speak. If you want to hear their poetry, you have to coax it out of them.

PiR: Well spotted! That is a carrot that is his nose. (Waste not, want not. It'll be retrieved and eaten after his demise).

Lucy: Thank you for dropping by. I see Bert has already said his piece.

Sepiru Chris said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Sepiru Chris said...

Dear Dominic,

I chanced to take off my aluminium hat as there was a scratching at the door--a thin plaintive whistle.

It was Bert, or at least it was the astral projection of Bert.

Bert wanted me to tell you that there was a slight misinterpretation.

It's not that he is not good on the computer, it's that he is not so good in the computer.

In fact, he's fine in the computer.

He quite likes the tingly electrical vibes, it reminds of his turbulent start, up in the clouds with potential lightning bubbling all around him. It reminds him of his first mother and his celestial home.

But he also knows that his being in the computer, or parts of him that melt, is not so good for you at the computer, later.

And, he is desirous to be a good snowman and not cause damage after the loving way you scraped him together. And that is why he desisted from trudging into the house on his own.

Ah, the power of the preposition, and the cares in a thin snowman's heart.


PS Bert also wanted to know how you knew his eyesight was bad; he is delighted with the carrot.

He had, of course, heard legends of the efficacy of carrots from forefather flakes who soared by the silk scarves of RAF flying officers in days of old. But the chance to actually try its curative properties? Simply magical.

Sorry, I missed the rest.

I heard a fearsome yowling in the stairs and hastily returned my metal helmet upon my head to regain the safety of its prior perch...

Dominic Rivron said...

SC: Thanks for visiting. I have to report, sadly, that Bert -as he put it to me, shortly before his head fell off- has gone to join The Great River. (This might explain his -astrally projected? ghostly?- appearance at your door).

Sepiru Chris said...

My condolences.

You must not have been around, and he wanted someone to say goodbye.

You know, there was something about winning lottery ticket number, but I just tuned that stuff out. Winning the lottery? That's just crazy talk!

Anonymous said...

Great haiku, Dominic (largely ignored in the Bert rush!)

Dominic Rivron said...

SP: Perhaps he'll pop back with more of his poetry (although, if I'm honest, I'd prefer a winning lottery number).

Dick: Thank you - I'm pleased you like it.

Sepiru Chris said...

Yes D.R., the haiku ought to be mentioned.

It was not only good haiku for a snowman (which is why, I think we all rushed to it), it was also fine haiku.

It was, for me, the haiku that elicited the interest in the first place.

Now, however, its prescience is overwhelming. It is too much for me to dwell on, now, as grief caps my day.

And I thought that only the fog came on little cat's feet, ... and then moved on.

...At least Bert wasn't silent, possibly due to the lack of a harbour? (Sandberg)

Sepiru Chris said...

Egads! The grief blinds my fingers too... I meant Sandburg.

Mary Sharpe said...


I'm doing some blog hopping and happened to pass through here.

Mary Sharpe

Wendy Naisa said...

Phew, you write a melting Haiku!