Monday, 15 May 2023

THE SCRATCHINGS... (My new poem about the badgers at Temple Balsall...)

 The Scratchings…



A badger suddenly showed its startling pied face,

Stared my way and then cautiously

Sniffed into the pollen rich breeze. 

Soon it retreated into a dark hole apace,

Leaving the cooling copse curiously 

Dank and vacated in its darkening unease…   


A badger suddenly began to scratch its grey pelt,

Behind a mossy knoll, then curiously 

Circuited an ageing tree in the gloom

And stared accusingly my way, I felt.

Remaining motionless, I breathed cautiously

But the brock vanished as night’s chill began to loom…


Pete Ray

14th May 2023


It seemed that no badgers would venture out to eat the food provided but I waited for maybe half-an-hour.



Then I saw one looking my way for several seconds, before disappearing.


Soon, another was just visible, scratching itself…


It then moved round the main tree in the copse and lingered for a short while.


Fine moments… 


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