Tiptoe through turquoise longues curtain nets a twitching Ladies faces wistful maybe tomorrow change I am the breeze cool as peaches Houses were seen for miles your eyes belie them Me my friend
Beneath dying birches, wild children play, leaves fall through defiant sadness. Empty mills observed. Farmers sing and stags enter. The ambivalent fire by the campsite, blurred dervishes dance from a black wall. Scarlet's laughter's a merry-go-round
Dragonfly days are wishful bucolic times. There are blue clouds to match their wingspan and cider with Ruby on merry go rounds, promises of love and heirlooms set aside
We were political friends a generous X at the box But something terrible has happened Public sector cuts Councils allowed to financially run dry Welcome to Brick by Brick Croydon
The general circumnavigation of Democracy You've got a stone heart and at the drop of a hat You demonize your enemies
We've got a Mayor with a presiding vote NOC a stalemate assured Give us back our Libraries and Purley Swimming pool
The palliative cure is the Lib Dems We are sick of the two-party system Normalcy at a mid-runner's pace why can't we be like Sutton and Richmond the prequistive in ascension
They've wrecked the illusion that's towns are bastillions made to last instead they are monopoly money spinners where building booms become bust and rents dry up
They've wrangled the economy now they go for the soul Queens' gardens future design is allusive as the scarlet pimpernel
I remember bee hives next to the tax office now its a busy builders yard so with investment goes ecological *******
The omens are ominous maybe the Tories can do better
Hello this is my poem the one I sneaked on my mobile whilst inspired by a journey to work There was this impressive man who exceeded the apex of my dreams but I could never slay the sartorial dragon for him my poetical vocabulary was too low brow These arent my bouts of normal surrender Yet there's never enough understanding shown by my fairweather peers
Who cares if Bolan misparked his Jeepster or Bowie had his Norfolk Broads moment Give me sophisticated mid 70s tin pan alley rather than Glam Overnight Sensation by the Raspberries or January by Pilot From Glee to a top Three in one easy swoop
Bronzed sun over the hill Fieldfare flying South The cartwheels stasis speaks to us even now as light steals itself over into the steps into the sea How could we not have noticed this before?
I am early morning you are the aurora together we easel a wondrous sight. I am the evening you are the dusk, cossetting each other in our urbane delight.
The glossy dancers swarm vibrating against green theatre curtains, visceral feelings heavy heels worn. They dance for purity only second guessing heaven.
Soaked with lies the arcaduim sighs, listen to the falling leaves. Ghosts will chase you, winged creatures will crawl (moving mountains with toil), and you will find no relief.
I was in the audience when someone shouted Judas to Dylan for going electric. I was near Paul Simon effected by the airs of dreary northern towns. I was the ****** you smoked on bequest of some forgotten Zanadu. I wrote the songs you merely had to hum them.
Tough Bakelite body A DSLR without the pixels only lacking a LCD screen Advanced autofocus update from F90 choice of 3 alternate exposure meters DX coded iso from 60 to 2500 speed range 30 seconds to 1/8000 seconds 1992 to 2001
Beach head, light top, regional Frisco veteran full powered chick. Youve outpaced the bikers irradiated your enemies, and smoked from their peace pipe.
I'm the cat that gets the creme i may look lost and disposed until you feed me. If you have your own cats, despite giving me a name. I upsurp them, half knowing i've done wrong. I will leave and be feed by a doting spinster, just for effect.
Don't know where to hide the bodies, or where that wild smile came from. But I've got a bad feeling, the longer this goes on spots on the Sun will appear as with gaps on the wall If there isn't a body then there's no crime to support several lives coming home.
Digital falls too easily She took better in Slide than JPEG and even though the Slide was pushed it had a retro Fuji green hue than the dull colors of the obvious shots per second of the DSLR
A silver lining passed by the rainbow. The sun is still shinning, for my state of mind, needs no defining, notwithstanding yesterday was painted grey. I just told a fairy story of a redemptive gull. Till tomorrow we celebrate, our February song chasing its tail.
To nurture a summit way passing the stars wouldn't it be heaven I see no reason why not But alpha centurai is a reckless place. it offers no garlands only fables pulled as if from a paper bag
From the windowsill lets feast on pea shoots and chives marvel at the paperwhites, tall and slender with a magnificent perfume and grow nepeta for our cat?
Why don't we call our flat Jardin? so we may be associated with nature?
Let our first holiday be to Giverney? the ardor will unfold your artistic eyes! I could talk of hollyhocks for ages They are like relationships the firmament lasts forever of tendering
We the underscored have come for our just desserts meekly receiving our own rewards It may not be pleasurable what we receive but with cuticled nails and smarted suit, let us wait profusely for our undulations. Our daily bread this feeble feed.
Abundant double-crested hollyhocks preside White hebes, usually pink glance, pruning rose hips from the vine and prolonging their goodness. Going to get a new fence because of Storm Eunice damage Aching black roots of Elephant ears are cut down. Green Sherwood paint for picket fence, Take cuttings from lavatia to flourish further anew
May is the blue print month where the garden fast forwards, in its boisterous growth The shrubs are the season's tidings with deciduous azleas and blushing rhododendoms, but beware of the summer ennui
Quebec as plighted as a star your unclaimed luggage is nearby in nearly new corrugated blocks, brimming by the wayside. Playing hide and seek with stolen identity cards making sure the hinterlands wont find you
Christmas decorations in the dark, same day motifs inspired by you, hopes undeterred on fetching wind, silver baubles bobbing on the bay. Dormant dreams forlorn in Winterland, yours is the world begin with it.
she bangs on about the changing political landscape, that she was a veteran of the Ohio State shootings although only time could crack the shell, split the kernel we both know as truth.
PM rescued by Civil Police with a parliamentary redacted procedural withdrawal questionable Ukrainian WAR WAR diplomacy cost of living Inflation by stealth
it's nice to walk down Victoria Street It still feels like an undiscovered part of London It has a Waterstones bookshop and an earnest small Waitrose Yet the Public Library is elsewhere There's clearly an Architects eye for design here belatedly re-discovering glass to compete with the nearby Shard Around Strutton ground there used to be a watchmaker next, it will be the shoe shop and then book sellers Oxfam to vacate their properties
February can have sunshine as autumn or face the freezing rain. Its soldier plants hardy preside. Crocuses unharmed standing knee high in water, or Irises thrusting their indomitable flowers through the snow, and our sageful Snowdrops taking on everything that comes.
Spirits nestled in castled ruins. Frangipani caught in the rain. Poppy dogs with sheepish eyes Happy as pie Larry in Lincolnshire fayres. Dragons Tooth flowering late. Ordinariness dressed in leitmotifs starts to fade
Gone are the days we spoke truth by the river bank. All your promises were never meant, and I lament your sudden change oh you siren; a wind of remiss.
my sweet acorn laid there, to feel your love the thirst is spoken. let it go on this way forever, this dewy feeling, with your wild acres and cool brown hair.
They give us pennies for the years we have spent Everybody says they care Yet cant wish away their tears It was not hard to clamber Speed the unconsecrated times Seen so many chances fall from clumsy hands Glad to leave my youth The river of us runs dry
We could go down the Spectre and Crown where all the punters would admire your white boots and penguin suit Then we could go to the London Zoo where you'd hear the hubris of the laughing hyenas and your whiskers would react deftly in the air recalling some ancient fear Then for the weekend, we go to Blackpool and you'd taste one of the roller coasters using one of your ample cats' lives
I'm as picqued as winter and so let down, you shouldn't leave me on my own. Dyslexic's back story unreviewed, a lack of recognition of your fellow beings feelings. You didn't understand the part seconds of the shutter speeds. You were confused and criticized your last teacher although having no knowledge of the professed present.