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Jun 2017
“I spy with my little eye, something beginning with W.”
“Water.”
“Yep. I spy with my little eye, something beginning with S.”
“Sky.”
“Yep. I spy with my little eye, something beginning with W.”
“Water.”
“Yep. I spy with…”

It just goes on and on, ceaselessly sailing towards another shade of blue.
A cloud, white against the heavens, floats by.
I want it to stop right above me, shelter me from this incessant colour.
It carries on, ignoring my waving arms.

I even dream of it, blue walls, blue ceiling, dripping wet.
Out of the window I look, eyes staring at more blue;
azure, indigo, ultramarine, aquamarine, cobalt and Prussian,
variations on a navy theme.

A storm gathers in the distance, beautiful grey.
Skyscrapers rise on the horizon, beautiful shapes.
A speedboat skips past on the waves, beautiful sounds.
A city offers itself to me, beautiful sights.
Michael J Simpson
Written by
Michael J Simpson  31/M/Aberdeen, Scotland
(31/M/Aberdeen, Scotland)   
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