My body is a temple.
An aged crumbling one.
The windows are poorly misted.
The attic is full of clever stuff.
My ears hear everything they shouldn't and nothing that they should.
And I'm never listening.
(C) LIVVI

Plucking seeds of whirling dandelions swirling through the gleaming sun, tickled by the wind.
Brushing down the pathway, blushing at the stroke of the nettles that nip.
Tomorrow runs round the open space of triangles, swings and grass that's dry, kicking planks of dry wood that's not for brushing.
Furry oak leaves fell, early, not autumn.
Worried that tomorrow aforementioned may utilise the discarded planks to beat their companions and my grandson bears witness to such destruction.
Tomorrow and his companions try to demonstrate annihilation of tinder.
And I wonder, staring on in absolute awe that my gorgeous grandson has not seen this before.
Tomorrow is our future, bored maybe.
I hope he doesn't follow suit.
He's two, his mum is protective...I can only hope he stays as wonderful as he is.
(C) LIVVI

Can we be happy in summer time?
The burning sit fills the glory sky.
Blue skies wonderful, wished for.
Can we be smiling through the heat that burns, while as humans we melt.
Perspiration bath.
Lobster glowing.
We seek shadows and breeze.
The sky hangs heavy above my head.
I sneeze the pollen wayward.
Again and again.
The fever of the itching eyes and tickling grass.
Raining soon.
Blessed at last.
(c)LIVVI

Pull up your trousers sonny.
Your looking mighty gormless.
Pointing out honestly, good god you look a mess.
You bottom looks inviting to a wanton wayward, crooked fella.
Looking really silly, I know that I can tell ya.
Don't want to insult you nor to break your heart.
(c)LIVVI

Sparkles, pollen sprinkles.
My how the garden grows,
Pink flowers, diminutive blue flowers, only periwinkles.
Smell the scent of garden flowers wafting neath thy nose.

Bumblebees and honey pots.
Flowers and foliage.
Red and orange, pale love it lingers, forget me nots.
Garden flowers, wild flowers, sunny skies, all the rage.

Butterflies and honey bees.
Alighting on the petals bright.
Bees with pollen sacks, strapped around their knees.
Keeping the garden growing right.

With but a dash of rainwater, flowers tended by thy daughter.
Flowers in the precious garden growing as they ought ta.
(c)LIVVI