He’s cold in this hollow box
It’s warm on the outside he begs
She’s the only blanket he wants
Followed by a bow to play at courting

Summer has gone away for a while
He feels a key change of the weather
She’s unlocking her viola case and
Reading a mournful note from her lover

Harmonies sing when he’s around
Her heart grows big, her hair on end
The vibrations of love flow up her spine
Through cords of silken electricity

They used to relax into each other’s arms
When time proved to be an illusion
A song that is always there
Kept safe in the instrument of her desire

Sat to one side
You cling to your negativity
Anything good is a ride
A catastrophe for any opportunity

Carrying baggage
You sing without purity
But still you manage
To survive and cope with adversity

No one can hear you
Signalling so quietly
Righteous fury flows through
Your every action and quality

So one day stop
And listen to nothing
No more luggage to cop
Find some peace in your own belonging

My mother taught me to speak.
My father taught my tone.
Lessons learned are easily forgotten
without an environment in which to thrive.

The hourglass trees recycle the atmosphere.
Sending their roots down as anchors.
A reminder to balance when stationary.
Moving is an effort not to be taken for granted.

A struggle in my mind can be repetitive.
The same thoughts dripping out of my mind.
Like some sort of water torture
Or buzzing and ringing at an uncomfortable pitch.

We are responsible for each other.
For the animals and plants.
The seas and the skies.
Suffering, at our inadequate hands.

An overdue lesson my birthday came like a chocolate torte

My family my classmates demanding no time for any thought

Get the food ready said the dinnerlady to my tired self

So focused on this schoolwork I had no time for my mental health

Mid life crisis at break time but I’d forgot my packed lunch

Celebrating another year with three generations an unruly bunch

Take me back in time and I’d drop out all over again

Exams like a shootout but when it’s my turn I miss my pen

Typing notes on my phone I’ve forgotten how to write

It’ll take me 35 years to remember but one day I just might

Trigger warning: Self harm.

As the world had closed up I stared into my mouth, mirrored forth.
I saw the world opening amongst broken, yellow pearls.
Paths revealed themselves in front of me, some south, some north.
Unfamiliar and not a crossroads, as such, my hazy vision swirled.

The glass holding my toothbrush smashed on the floor.
A reverberation of the crash seemed to last forever.
I looked down. Red blood at my feet. A hole opened up to the door.
Once imprisoned. Now an escape route of falling and landing never.

Is this flight? Surely not fight. More likely fright.
I felt trapped, caught, constrained in this emotional hell.
Beyond repair, hoping for a fix, another episode at the dentist might.
I used a brush to sweep up the shards. In guilt, shame and fear I dwell.

Over read and over thought; chewed up and thrown out.
Told to a friend but in it goes in one ear and out the other.
“If only you knew him like I know him.” They’d say.
Not possible when it’s just one story for them but an encyclopaedia for you.

Scratched and worn,
I wear a coat of guilt.
It hides my shame.

Pride wilts in greyscale norms,
Society’s potential colour wilts.
No reason not to choose your own names.

The pandemic’s shine is becoming worn.
The party engine will be at full tilt.
Dancing alone; no longer my forced aim.

You couldn’t sleep,
I wouldn’t think.
All our fears were here,
We had started to sink.

You were so uncomfortable
A mouthful of cotton to mend.
No moment felt finished,
Gravely gathered at the end.

We held Time’s hand,
We held onto each other.

As we sat this one out
In the safety cupboard together.
A stopwatch and a timer
Couldn’t stop it either.

Sound to distraction,
Calls to the ether,
Rising tides so far away
No blip on our meter.

We held Time’s hand
We held onto each other.

And all the luck in the world wouldn’t find you here

All the same things happen every year, I hear

Changes come and go but you are always the same

Ideals fluid enough to know who win this frame

A double kiss then pulled off early before the next sesh

I couldn’t look at you but I still knew you were a mess

The tension mounted all around

Out of position I couldn’t bear it when you frowned

I love you.

Is that what I should say?

I don’t know what will come of it

But I’ll say it anyway

Cold winds blow through my wide open window.

Freezing in this moment; I look and listen.

You’re asleep. Outspoken in your dream.

An electric shiver up my back.

A foot kicks out. A cat climbs on.

Floating uphill I have been taken by the night.

A technicolour sky and bright green grass.

The tightrope bridge falls and I with it.

The cat jumps down. You’ve farted.

Alpha had small touch of my cardigan.
A nice way of saying hello with warmth.

She was happy to see me that day.
Walking through halls of an old school.
A beta test for future studies with some of my favourite people.

My anxiety was high that day.
Like gamma rays flying straight through me.
A panic on some stairs.
Overwhelmed with the attention.

Her model’s features were hidden by her smile.
It was as a wide as a delta.
Her hair was thin.
Her heart was not.
Her blood flowing through me so fast.

How are we so different
but essentially the same?

How do I care so much
when I have nothing to gain?

Why did I stay when you
gave me that pain?

Because you showed me hope in a way
where it never can wain.

You are a star that will never supernova.

All I want is your suffering to be over.

We can heal each other and show the world what’s good.

And value ourselves and stay alive like people should.

Vast universe. Not afraid.

Hard feelings. Gently expose.

Soft inside. Be kind.

Love you. Always.

Close your eyes. Where are you now? Open your eyes. You’re somewhere else. If you ever need to refresh; just blink.

A tired voice sounds sexy to some ears. It’s ok to be worn out. If you are not feeling sexy time tonight, eat something, get some rest.

A goblin could devour every nerve on your skin and you’ll live inside your isolation tank brain forever. Enjoy the fleeting because it’s not sticking around. Remember that when you’re in the depths of the bog.

Quieten your sense of subjective self. A part that feels like a whole is still a part. And when that black hole inside makes itself known then tell it to swallow the bits you don’t like.

Feed others and your brain will be fed. Keep people happy. Provide food, shelter, and an open heart.

Today is a break in the cloud of yesterday’s depression and tomorrow’s anxiety.

A point of light, almost piercing in its clarity, highlights the gift of the present.

Do not fear this focus; this freedom: It is a vacuum playground for you to fill or observe.

As patterns are set here they can easily be unravelled. In this moment knit together your life as you see fit.

Past loss and future gain are dreams kept either side of your real life. A plain cup that sits between decorated spectres.

These ghosts of prize and pain in years from now and times gone by are with you now only because you have been given the present.

The skill you were born with was to just do things without intention. Use this and yesterday’s depression and tomorrow’s anxiety will disappear.

Beans climbing up the bamboo canes
Wigwams reaching for the light
We could grow if we didn’t know your name
Steady and solid like a tortoise preserving it’s might

Houses lined up in the streets
Each their own universe
Food tonight provides a treat
My own recipe for these leftovers it could be worse

Hiding away with my favourite sounds
Nothing much could be better than this bass
I found nothing and nothing I have found
These moments are the greatest gift – they’re ace

A colossal foundation for an ideal life
From the ashes of branded waste
Self sufficiency and recycled joy frees our strife
Our wants illusions frequenting at haste

Slowed water but not still
The ashes can settle
The feeling of will
Thoughts wrought by metal
The ground we cannot refill
Our wares smash – so brittle
Trees we kill
Burn for our kettle

***

Tea revives our energy unspent
Groups of believers tell us to repent
Guilty of the same crimes if not more
Do we have to tell them the score?

Time is on our side

one day the pope will be an ai programmed to guide us away from sin

there was an eyelash stuck to my slice of cheese so i closed my eyes and ate it

announcement. we are having a party at 8pm to join you must lie on the floor of a cold dark room alone and listen to erik satie gnossienne no 1 on repeat for twenty minutes. there is a strict policy of no alcohol only lukewarm salt water. dress code is dark. pets are mandatory

Sometime ago. I came across a fellow. He looked so bright and gay. On that sunny day in May.

It felt so good with him. Somehow we just fit. So I asked his name. He looked at me with disdain.

He said “you are not desirable. I do not want you”. My heart sank. Was this a prank?

“Please, I beg, no.” I cried out to him. He walked out the door. I dried my eyes and looked at the floor.

Several years past. I grew my beard out. Maybe he won’t recognise me now. Maybe he was just a silly cow.

we’re poets

of course

we don’t know what paragraphs are for. i hummed along to the same old song – a song for the encumbered #instapoet

Holland is not the Netherlands, Colin, what you say and what is

are different.

Things.

Mackerel sky dotted with hungry birds

Deflated poet, pen in hand, running out of words

Fallen seeds sown by the late summer wind

Take sprout next spring lest the birds find

Isolation. Taking pill after pill. Quell the screaming. Yet still making myself ill.

Turn your backs. The help is for themselves. The darkness that cannot be lit. Not even by the elves.

Systemic failures. Arise in solidarity. But faced with walls upon walls. No fall for this city.

Carried to the morgue. In a car with an anonymous driver. A symbol of us all. Hope and happiness yet neither.

A turn in a walk. Giving up yet pages turn. A book can teach a lot. But we will never learn.

Diffused. Our bodies no longer intertwined. Breathing without our lungs we just work for the colony. Stolen hope. Stolen lives. Stolen Queen.

Carrying a massive twig several times my size. Easily I admit but I have no audience to brag to. At least, no one who listens. How is time perceived to a lost ant finding his way in the world?

We are many. I am few. Alone in a crowd. The same cliches trapped in my mind. Going around and around and around. What do they want this twig for anyway?

Disenfranchised and abandoned. A cold wind is simply not felt. We are impervious.

Likeminded support. Are they just as bad as me?

A bunch of lies served to ease the pain. They just rewrote history and we forgot our joy. I’m sure in at least two late nineties 3D animation feature films. You can see me now. Hurting.

Grit spread across the road. Ice falls from the sky. A woman carrying a heavy load. He’s stood at home making curry pie.

A thoughtless word. Shrugged off as a joke. Another whisper of discontent heard. So much tea he’s feeling woke.

Hypocrisy from the soul. Conflicting needs. An animal within has control. The monster inside silently feeds.

Translucent like a glass fish.

Embellished as a plank of wood.

Battered by localised solar wind.

Neutrino holes in my soul.

Collective agony brought together with a symphony

of fingers and thumbs mashing screens we see.

We’re not alone, we can chew on this wood, together.

Nothing happens all at once

so pandas take their time.

Shared experiences and friendly faces,

voices that don’t quite fit the words,

and group chats that can last forever.

It’s forever November. I am hurting. You’re my medicine and my poison. It’s not working.

I cannot remember. The good times had. When the sun last rose. Now things are always bad.

The leaves have left. Everything is black. The beginning was the end of it all. The emotions I lack.

Something is wrong. I binge but I’m empty. Just a bucket wanting to be filled and emptied. Quick fixes so tempting.

I don’t trust you. But I don’t trust myself. I need you in my life so much. Is it good for my health?

Crashing branches smack against the ground after the sky’s electric bolt severs the tree in two.

Car alarms are heard, dogs bark, rough pavements sink underwater in the precipitation’s deluge.

A coffin of pine holds the dearly beloved, the recently deceased, the forgotten man. His Alzheimer’s his parting gift to the ashes for a jar.

The door is shut. I want in. Please listen whilst I struggle. I can’t find the words to say. I hope my presence is enough.

You found me lost in a field of snow.
You kept me and took me home to live in your secret drawer.
No longer depressed but I always will be your blue friend.
I made a home in your posession. I had belonging. A buzzing love.
Then you left me and you moved out to be with a real flesh boy.
I am lost in a field of snow.

A frostbite wind cuts across the field
Six horses gallop from one side to the other
And back. The wind does not relent.
Seek shelter horses for collapse is upon us.

My main drive has weakened I have not eaten
My food on the floor. What service is this?
It is winter and the cold crosses riot within my harness and braces tighten.
A contract to count here and stop there. My food is not orange it is silver frozen dew.

A metallic container is my vessel to a unlikely doom.
Travelling whilst trapped; a hijack of hooves and a late delivery of hay.
I career up the side. Trot my vocation. A lost dream in this nation.
The ice pick in my back is a permanent end to what might have been.

Blowing bubbles from my nose.
An infectious calamity on my back.
The ruin of all we have. Not the viruses we carry but a unhelpful destructive nature.
The weather is in my mirror this time of year. Why the long face?

***

This poem was written with a pencil held taut in my anus.

Flora had a feeling in her gut.

Stuck in a rut. She struts and hurts her foot.

She didn’t know what she did feel. Without an even keel. She didn’t feel he was real.

He wanted to cause an explosion in her life. To cut herself free from strife. He wanted her for his wife for life.

She left him for another man. Because she can. She went in with no plan for Dan.

He had hope. Her heart said nope. He felt like a dope and could only just cope.

What could I say?
She let the clock do the talking.
I can’t listen to the tick.
Desperate to hear words

My mind won’t click into gear.
Cogs turning
Racing thoughts
Subdued response.

I ask myself what I want to say.
Metronomic, predictable
My mind isn’t that.
Constant chaos. Fire leaks through me.

I hope you are well.
And I do
But is it enough
Does it really matter?

Hope is the water that calms my fire.
Ticking is my enemy that winds me up.

Everything is changing.
Nothing is certain.
So
I’ll ‘hmmm’ like the Witcher
Because isn’t life a bitcha?

If you turn to stone
You’ll get weathered and old.
But if you flow like water
Your youth will never falter.

Destiny is waiting
For you to grab the reins
So I ask you my dear,
Please keep me near.

She’s fierce.
Set in her ways.
Knows exactly how she likes things.
And has fantastic taste in music.

The crocodile with curly hair is an amazing creature.
Unique in her outlook; she is quite friendly once she’s comfortable.

There’s an entire universe in her head.
In that vast space lives a young cat.
With her nearest and dearest; she is loved by everyone.
Quiet, but caring, she can snap at those less understanding.

Be careful crocodile. Your teeth are sharp and strong. You might just eat everything and everyone!

So I remember this rhyme:

Crocodile with her cat in space.
Will always beat you at cards.
She has up her sleeve an ace.
If that doesn’t work she’ll fire a laser from mars!

I wonder what you are doing. Are you feeling good?
I hope you have a smile on your face. Are you at ease?
Call me in the night and tell me everything.
I don’t want to just live for myself.

Lemon rind. Lemon juice. Slices for drinks. Seeds for a new tree. Don’t waste your time.

There’s nothing better I’d rather do. Than spend my time talking to you.
Watch the waves roll in on a moonlit summer night. Breathe in; breathe out.
‘Sharing is caring’ I now say. Instead of ‘You will be the death of me’.
I have learned this and that. I actually learned most of it from my cat.

Before we lost it all we had everything but each other.
I hope you can heal and not make the same mistakes twice.
I wanted you to be mine for forever but you assumed I did not.
Yes, you learned I am not perfect. Now you have moved on. Ask him before assuming.

* * *

I can’t write. I wish I could write. I don’t want to write. I don’t need to write. I can put a smile on someone’s face.

* * *

A flicker from a candle.
Steam rising from a mug.
A cold evening with no heating.
I’m not doing everything I should.

* * *

Experience from my fleshy brain doesn’t matter.
Material. Numb. Medicated and subdued.
People are afraid of me. People hate my labels.
I cannot convince them all.
Universal consciousness abandoned.

* * *

Typing on my laptop makes a rhythmic beat on my keyboard. Exquisite, until I need a word I can’t spell.

She wants to run away
Into a strangers arms
Weaponised love; accepted

Her parents don’t care
Grandparents say she can cook
That’s her pitch

What will happen once you arrive
Lost and stranded
Strange land; distant people

She does it because she will care
Barely an adult; thin promise
A hope of better quality of life

Cut paper; cut fingers
Blood on her letters
She’s lost control; the words are empty

She wants an empty suit
A man who works
A leaf on the tallest tree

Promises, promises
What is she after
She doesn’t know; she knows that much

Do you believe in radical acceptance?
No?
Oh.
Well think about it. It could help.

The world will be out to get you wherever you run. You cannot hide from yourself. Where can you go to seek shelter from pain? Within. In peace. In constant love. Conceptual romance. No bonds or knots. Alone or together. You will be fine. You will be at rest.

Ghoul under my skin
Tell her my secrets
Make me question everything

Ol’ time radio 1998
Worn out side B
Digital watch never ticks

Fuck me sideways
I’ve forgotten my glasses
Lost resting on my head

I let you out
When I shout to you
I say nothing

I keep my mouth shut
Stapled; filed away
Along with the false and fragile

Agonising about the future
I feel pain in my shoulder
No sleep ever again

I slept well
Last night I sewed
Embroidering life lessons

Scarf face mask
I will not steal
Closed shop. Too much wind.

Walls and mazes
dead ends
forgotten beginnings

Just let me
finish licking my fur
Then feed me

Petal in a book
sacrificed
for future reference

Give me a smile
not mine to receive
a delicate frown

Saved from myself
by myself
alone

Patient picnic
the same meal
yesterday’s best moment

With a friend
time passes
quick to react

Weight
gain and loss
seek balance

Playing a game
holding aces
never letting go

Comatose hair
Frazzled ember
Fire red
Burning November
rain.

Blood drops
You hold it in a dream
With a cry
A stifled supressed scream
silently.

Year of the pig
The cleverest beast
No future is clear
Even looking east
sunrise.

Mountain top
Isn’t my body
Not good enough
Feeling myself shoddy
workmanship.

Grasped chance
Lost ruins
Opportunity knocks
Wait ten mins
later.

Honest broker
Keep in touch
Doesn’t understand
Isn’t much
use.

Forgotten memories
Already missing
I’ll write them down
Still pissing
rain.

A rainbow opposite the sun as the rain patters down on my yellow coat.
As I splash through the puddles rings erupt radiating from the drop’s root.
A brown tree drinks silently in this weather its inhabitants shelter, mostly, from the damp.
The purple plastic pollution that litters the ground looks like a human horror show.

We will wake the mammoths from the permafrost. The lakes will rise from the glaciers. The oceans will grow eroding all before them. Youth will suffer. Their children will suffer more. Will we do nothing?

Let’s drown our hatred and anger.
Seeing red mist float above the ever swelling sea.
No fish left. A bluebottle flies over plastic soup.
Let’s get in the water and swim for our lives.

Equality further away. Social division. Maths ignored at school; replaced by patriotism. Debt ever increasing. The few are taking control. Support is falling apart and our health is taken for granted. Will we do nothing?

Watching the world from your white house on the hill.
We hate you and all you stand for.
Wet from your ignorant spew we can turn you green.
A change from the orange burn of your hostile heated hatred.

What will we do?

A ghost in my left hand. Air in my right.
A fight for my mind starts and lasts all night.
Why should I do this? I don’t have to do that?
A cat gently breathing. Waking up. Emergency lick of it’s leg! Back to sleep.
I’m sorry if it seemed I didn’t care.
I really did. I just didn’t know I had to lick my leg.

I have new plans but I miss you.

A boy watches silhouettes walk around the neighbour’s house.

The light’s on in the bedroom. Are they alone tonight? Or tomorrow or any given night this week?

Night windows show the post declutter calm. A sad anticlimax and an empty room. Lonely footsteps back and forth. A wait of the modern age.

They don’t care if they don’t reply. He can’t see the tears landing on their phone. Waiting for a message while they sleep. It is folly.

You cannot block the flow of life.

You can regulate it or change it’s future course.

You cannot change where it has been.

You can choose to focus on the bits you really like.

The crucifying pain I carry in my head.
I’d smash it against stone walls until I drop down dead.
The pulsating murder of horror in my brain.
If only it would drown; deep in never ending rain.

I cannot walk. I cannot see.
Humanity’s hatred rules do not dare blame me.
I cannot hear. I cannot pee.
I’m fit to burst with rage; unforgivingly.

I want to die.
I can’t continue.
My mind has gone.
My rotting organs, a congregated retinue.

Let me go. I cannot wait.
My hatred burns all my mates.
I ruin everything. Don’t let me go.
I need you more than you know.

What whispers do you hear in the wind?
When your mind withers and you are just a bag of meat.
An object of lust for envied eyes.
Or a welcome companion to a loved one.

Horses canter through the field.
Playful nights and days in the elements.
Cold in the outside setting sun.
Moving brings health and warmth to those who come.

Such a lovely place.
On a hill with trees, bracken and heather.
Lone cow wanders.
Such solitude is healing.

Shared adventures postponed.
Lives split and shared more thin.
A calloused finger runs down my chest.
I don’t recognise this touch.

What is darkness to those lost in the wilderness.
A habitable home full of comfort and hope.
We survive here.
A solace of familiar weather.

Home at last.

*Until we all inevitably die, alone, suffering in the tremendous agony of what feels like an wasted eternity.

*Added for a friend who prefers a sad ending.

Time falls through my hands
Sand on floor
By the door
On the scratched stone tiles.

Never coming nor going
The circular bus
Drives on a round route
Serving as many streets as possible.

Never ending or beginning
What really is space?
What is brain activity?
A switch to be flicked on or off.

A journey of recovery
Doesn’t take time
It never ends
It is time.

This is to be read in your head
Or appreciated in bed.
Like a flood of information
from every nation
For your brain to be fed.

I don’t want to move.
My situation won’t improve.
Lying here will rest my brain
not moving an inch just listening to the rain.
There’s always something out there to sooth.

*Sooth your arse as it gets rubbed with steel wool!

*Added for a friend who prefers a sad ending.

The faceless voice that follows me around.

It is the nameless power that fills everything.

An anchor that roots me to my upbringing, to the places I lived, where I survived.

I want to share it with you.

How did this story unfold, let me tell you…

A pal in Rome took me swimming, she said she liked to be afloat, gliding with the current.

Now in the depths of the river; water flows lowly and in this place it was lifting us softly.

Neither strong nor solid life’s liquid fed the luscious growth on the river bank.

As we swam, it occured to us that water is the universal solvent, wearing away at everything it meets.

How we laughed after our day; laughter bubbled up spontaneously like a hillside spring.

Ice struck hard. Cracked mirror melts. Sea levels rise. We all drown.

***

What could happen between us. If we could watch the tide. If waves would roll over us. If we would never die.

Some people live on stilts, knocked over by the breeze, the lapping sea gently lilts, as we fall to our knees.

Not one of us is in control. Never acting out our intent. Don’t worry for what you can’t control. Your iron will is still there hell bent.

Planted by squirrels, we march to life’s whistle

Together in mud, we tower above

Spring bulbs below and birds in our hair

We all have some bark but make no sound in the air

What goes on beneath anchors our feet

We bind the land is how we play our hand

Leave us breathing well and oxygen we will sell

For we are the trees that build your society’s deeds

Three lifetimes ago I was born.

I came from a strong nut, one of many, my mother groaned as I fell from her grip.

My name is Hazel and I am 200 years old. I live by the water’s edge, where I drink and swim, stability my pledge.

I feel my dear old Russell run his presence through my hair, day to day, a familiar face of nature’s affection.

Seasons come like a day night cycle.

Polly rides past on her bike and stops by me for some shade, deserved mind, she just isn’t fabulous yet, dahrling.

I will feed and shelter until my day is done, be it lightning or blight, my day will come.

Observing the woodland is a hobby of mine, we tend to it’s upkeep, bird’s homes combined.

When I was young I didn’t know myself but was full of potential. When I was mature I peaked with doubt but was rash to show my strength. Now I am old I know all that matters and what happens, happens.

You are the Lily in the pond and I am Hazel in your reflection. Treat me well and I will reward you.

You’ve never been loved like that.
I’ve heard that before, somewhere.
A refrain after every disappointed verse.
I loved you, does that make it better or worse?

I’m a lesson you needed to learn.
The well-worn silver lining of mine
That won’t keep me warm as I walk all alone
Through the storm that I summoned to never get home.

Everything is particles and waves: Energy. Dust.

A conscious thrust. A conscious thrust.

The dust hare kicks its legs and forces are transferred.

The pull between us is what it preferred.

Thank you Dust Hare for working in mysterious ways.

You keep the sun burning, even at night.

If anyone sees you they are in for a fright.

For you are beyond comprehension, these words not enough, to describe your beauty, to talk about your dust.

Petals fall. Seeds drop. Leaves loosen.

New growth is still some way off.
A forgotten celebration of life in the distance, springing forth like laughter from the diaphragm. Until then, winds rise.

Discomfort. Aching muscles and tired eyes dried by the breeze. Columns of light cascade through the window, occasionally, when the sun manages to poke through.

A fireplace stoked while music plays. Folks well fed and drinks flowing free. There is still cheer in the air where there is water and warmth, where the memory of new lives is fresh.

A roof over our head, we clothe ourselves in autumn colours, waiting for the next thing to break and be fixed. Creature comforts from little routines keep us going. And listening.

Staring into space somewhere in front of your eyes I give an extinguished sigh. A stifled noise. One moment in time. Forgotten.

This happened but won’t be remembered. Following the glazed look was a spark of life. Face muscles contracting commitment to a smile.

An out of place hair on your brow brushed away by a fingertip’s gentle touch. I looked at the strand and placed it alone in your palm. I learned forward. Silence. Before I received a kiss so pleasant it will stay with me forever.

This hasn’t happened yet, but when it does, I’ll remind you that I love you.

I take my old boat ‘Ася’ down the Serpentine River. She’s a glorious craft. She’ll do for a lifetime.
The water laps and whirls around her freshly oiled rear. I duck a branch to live another day.
Safe surrounded by her streamlines. A temple on holy ground. Security.
The ebbs and flows as we stay the night in the estuary. Bobbing up and down. A lifetime at sea awaits.

Snow has fallen
Songs are sung
Party games
Festive fun
Bellies full
Cheer is won
Fire is warm
Play the drum
Dance til dawn
Tell your pun
Laugh all night
Tomorrow rerun

Frying fat sizzled sound ears pop.
Jelly wobbles worse sugar sweet burst spot.
Often colours blend and swirl mix up make a new one.
Simple sayings sickly sink into deep thoughts all gone.

Purple picnic mountain side rain is here.
Hide the food mood has dropped take me home.
Sometimes squirrels eat our crumbs in the sun shone.
Now we’re home weather fine itchy John.

Dense, fine hairs on a leaf like fur.
He purrs until I pluck him off the tree to put in my book.
Saved or sacrificed? He lives with the letters I sent to this page.
A message just to say that all leaves fall eventually.
But don’t worry, they’ll soon spring back.