Sunday afternoon ha’ sonnet

Washed in birdsong
beneath the blue,
displaced dugong,
I wallow through,
the afternoon
but all too soon,
the water cools.

I always wanted an outdoor hot-tub, and finally I have one! It’s not quite what I originally envisioned, but it works.   


Filed under poem

13 responses to “Sunday afternoon ha’ sonnet

  1. Get some hot coals under there and it looks like you have enough room to stew a whole kangaroo.

    • The water is indeed heated with a fire underneath, raked down to coals when the water is hot enough. But it’s very hard to regulate 😀 And the kids have already suggested using it to cook my pet pig. Just because she occasionally bites them…

      • Great idea. The outdoor bath, not the pet pig pot roast. Although… 🤔

        • I’m not sure that she’d fit, she’s quite…. big boned. 😀

        • That must be one big pet pig 😳 I don’t know why but I was thinking of babe. Miniature, George Clooney style 😂

        • George Clooney’s pig! ha! That’s not a pig. This is a pig… She’s a Berkshire sow, not a particularly big breed, but a proper meat breed. They make really good ham.

        • That’s a big pig. The chicken in the background really helped with scale. Definitely won’t fit in the tub😂
          So ham is the plan?

        • I figured a pig is the perfect no-risk pet. If it doesn’t work out, you eat the pig. The problem is lack of agreement in the family. However, it is not a democracy, and the pig stays. She has come close to being turned into ham a few times though – digging up the garden, pulling washing off the line and shredding it, getting into the shed and eating tins of paint, eating a couple of chickens…. but no, she’s my darling piggy-wiggy, no matter what anyone else says.

        • In some countries they say the same thing about cats and dogs 😉
          Sounds more like a goat with a death wish.
          It ate live chickens???
          Did you tell me the name? Is it a pun?
          Francis Bacon, or something of the like?

        • Her name is Pigamajig, or just Pig for short.
          I think what happened was she squashed the chicken then ate it. I saw a live chicken snuggled up next to her one cold evening, and the next morning she had a leg hanging out of her mouth… My guess is she rolled on it in the night and squashed it, then ate it when she woke up, because she’s never gone after a moving chicken. We did reinforce the chicken coop after that.
          “Lie down with dogs, wake up with fleas.” Lie down with pigs…

        • Clever, I like it.
          Makes sense. I’ve never heard of pig going after live chicken. How would he even go about catching it.
          Sounds like a lesson that could be shouted at last call in nightclubs 😉

  2. BoardFlak

    I got here from Stephen’s ha’sonnet thread, where I liked your reply to his leadership training poems.

Comments? I'd love to hear from you!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s