it started that day at brondanw



i saw you fallen

&

photographed you



took you to be stitched



yet could not save you

nor

any of them



you are a metaphor for death



the word fallen is used

when they were pushed





while those at home made bandages

songs come via friends,
the books we read,
the place we breathe,
songs of the fading,of life

the words hit our hearts,
and sink in to stay, to pledge
another stage set,
small life

driving the land, the songs,
carry us along, to our place,
the constant places,
we think don’t change,


the song of love, spinning,
dizzying, head and mind,
words of the books,
black and white

so the falling days,
end today, winter waits,
and the songs, and words,
tunes are all to warm us,
and hold us safe

sbm

she said her father was jewish and proud of it.



they visited the synagogue, i know where it

is. i stood outside.



he was a green grocer, broke his back, her mother

looked after him.



she a seventh day adventist, i went with  her sometimes,

on saturdays.



i never met her father, he died early.



she said.



sbm.

where has the other one gone?

there used to be four of us



she said



she lobbed a pebble in the stream

watched the effect



another replied

he got sick & died



nothing will ever be the same again



water flowed

a bird flew up



third one commented

that he would be missed

that the bed would feel empty



felt bad that he borrowed the shoes without permission

took his money



she remembered how he scuffed his bike

down the path & ate hungry





the heron stood silent opposite on the mud



there are three of them now sat on the log by the stream

only one went to the funeral





the others

sent to school

maybe vicarages should have rooks about

for the noise and general ambiance



perhaps at at dusk they will return

a black feather cloud

darkening the sky

as if



that god were about



inside is cosy

lamps lit

with meat for dinner



i watch old films often

&

watch the landscape slide

into stories

this is pretty
if not indeed
a fancy dress.

if one could see it all
with the peripheries,
one will agree
that
one can fancy
to own
such a dress.

( often know as frock)

sbm

it is a good place

the logs were sold out yesterday

i go back monday



he has suggested i photograph

the other side

of the fence

and i will



farmers dolgellau

buying birch logs



kiln dried

a puzzle, what to do with the
ficticious thing, the thing we
don’t have.

an idea.

with that in mind, we
plot and plan.

work on our identity.

a busy day,
which worked out well.

it was the obvious, that
they did not all see.

i bought seeds for the hawfinch.

sbm.

maybe not such a good idea,
it may feel fenced in, surrounded.

yet we lean on it, dicuss the time of day,
avoiding price on fish.

i learn about sub soil, all things growing,

the logistics of burying. he borrows electricity
a while, while i tidy up, hang out washing.

i miss my company,  went out walking.

no one came this time.

sbm.

back and forth,
limited number each time,
counting.

one did not return.
the last crossing.

sbm.

thought i was fed up of mince pies

& lost my appetite



though having the day off work today

fancied one from frozen

reduced at last to fifteen pence

as that time is well and truthfully

over



thawed

i like to place upside down to remove

the tin foil ready for recycling

then cut crossways into quarters

it looks like those tiny meat pies

goblins, from tins



i don’t eat those of course

with it being meat & vague

ingredients which would

come clear if i read the

label



i eat the little bits

with mine coffee



& think that the pastry reminds

me of the 1960’s when tarts were

very usual



without much flavour



i think most of it is none of my business

although i hear folk are getting very

heated about it all

fifty words!



as many as that;

not as many as last night you know.



brainstorming with abandon

and counting symbols.



crossings out and wiring my brain is a task

for which i am not fit without a drink.

a sort of drink cannot say or i will fail.



sbm

challenge:~ 50 words. no ‘e’

unclench your fitful hands

this is a challenge



he held them tight while driving

despite the storm warning, to spite

the warnings



his lips smudged

rimmel red



slim he wore them, pleated like

a dancer’s



cloth



fit not cut , if that is

the current expression



i feel he was a man of his time

despite the secrecy, despite

the storm

it is number 13
a thunder ball
in my mind.

who is james bond
anyway,
he is ficticious.

elephant is not.

we got up too early,

went back to bed.

with a cup of tea.



sbm.

.finding a place.


one bolt left,
not for sale as a whole.

yet carefully cut, sewn, packed,
the small room, it is available
to share.

have you heard his voice
high over mountains, repeating.

do you like this cloth, tradition weaves,
these old skills.

having told him this, the work continues.

sbm.

it is a fine line we walk,
gently avoiding peptides,

only just a theory,
yet used independantly,
alongside honest work,
for mending.

the film continues,
some of the old cast, new actors oblige,
ideas on lack of addictive ways.
simple days without receptors.
singing under breath, counting, unpacking boxes,
this is the lead. hints are posted, and may you believe them graciously.

for many times will you be tested.

there were substitles, out of focus,
we could not read the other language.
the film continues…. peptides.

sbm.

we do not worship

false idols



we tried that.



we prefer the birds.

there are five of us here, to be a help

and comfort. each one has a different

aspect of care.



nurture ,  protect while all is

growing.



we are diffrent shapes, size and strength.



take us, use us when required, overdue

does not work here.





remember this.



sbm.

the battery is low, yet it has to be said,

that the five are anonymous, the photo

is random to embellish the tale.



they wish to be private, yet cared for

when i am gone. a promise is made.



meanwhile they carry on. good

work, company and care. while



we need to recharge, move on.



spoken sweetly.



sbm.

flags to find us. decide which

petulant shadow hides

integrity.



honesty abounds yet the flags

will find us.



sbm.

we went on the bus to visit, we must have used two yet i cannot quite remember.



i felt fear and excitement, the same emotion as when i overheard that he had died.



felt guilty over that ever since.



while visiting i was sent to the corner shop for sweets and ****.i felt useful yet in latter years have reconsidered the task.



plans were imagined for his christmas gift.



he never made it that far.



sbm.

when the world runs cold,

water freezing, eyes held

from the words.



moments with the old story,

knowing it will be understood.



each day a moment to be

shared out here.



sbm.

. the leybourne. first edition 1954.unsigned.

“Housewives celebrate end of rationing. Fourteen years of food rationing in Britain ended at midnight when restrictions on the sale and purchase of meat and bacon were lifted.”



ingredients.

take

one  fresh small person

a        paper bus ticket

one pair trunks (canned if necessary)

smallish inner tube or rubber ring whichever is available

or is  in season



method



place the person on the bus,               allow to rest

leave for half an hour or until things are  proved



gas mark 4



then



wrap person in trunks       and place into the  prepared ring



if fully set                         float in brine until all becomes spongy

allow to   brown  lightly                     while     floating continues



do not peel



on rising

we have a floating island

:: floods ::

seemed to be the topic, yesterday.

watched the water creep, saw the water

seep.

into the cellar, under the door.

down the lane to see the water,

meet the boys from reading,

their kayaks and head held cameras,

only about £200.

“my battery went flat,

we fell in, swimmimg,

and we cannot say

betws i coed”

i can , and i can say mawddach.

i remember the flood of 2001.

ta. i quite like shopping, i know some people don’t, but i like to look at all the things, and listen to the people. i had best buy lilies..

ran out yesterday

lost you completely with the pattern in the sky

the leaves on the oak

on the mountain.       i lost you





you left the group

took off and flew



flight was not sustained

hovering over past demeanours

faltered

landed carefully



in disappointment hugging

affirming it did not matter

surround this area,
live inside. loving
lamps ,damp autumn air.

shadow,               films
with out words, stuttering.

moths, yes i usually write
of moths, now long legs
come into play. outside

planes fly over, estuary
birds call. autumn.

sbm.

i remember the fog horn

we could hear it from

the house in green road

though miles from the sea

it seemed to me



liked hearing it while all

safe in bed

or thought i was

seems a fallacy

when no one is

safe really



though some are more

than others



seems i use some words

more than others

some not at all



we talked about corner shops

where we did the lesser shop

walked up to winton for the

rest

mum said it would be cheaper



then

sometimes she sent me down

the corner for the gas mantle

with warning not to touch

with it being so fragile

we moved when i was five



with no corner shop

no fog horn



i will be drawing

today

she said old people fold notes

&

i felt insulted.



she said it bothered her a lot

when she counted them.



we should keep them flat

&

others may agree

or agree



it is nothing at all

to be worried about



when the world may be dying.

that ice cream thingy must be a local thing

to you

i cannot think of anything here

like that

only a sweet made with wafer and marshmallow

that looks like one

i used to buy ross’s puff candy

i had 3d on wednesdays to

spend



major decisions what to buy



never crisps

i was not allowed

told

they were a waste of money, only potato

my brother bought them for me

when he worked



it came our secret



i have them now of course

as many as i like



they did not have any logs at the store

not had any all summer either

i think i will find another supplier

local



been trying a more fresh fruit

and veg diet

gave me a belly ache

last eve



serves me right



back to the bread today

then

for breakfast



before a trip to aber arts

for the film



6.44 am

still dark

stomach settled

with latest headlines

of course you will, some times.


why not, we cannot think of everything all the time.


it is a little flower, shallow rooted,

that spreads lovely. have planted some in pots,

while down the path, will add a touch of blue.


sometimes we just stand and look.


sbm.

they talked of god while i was focussed on the layout,                 the format of the thing.



i told them i had tidied the box, they wanted to see and gasped        when all was opened.



look at the words they cried, another language, so old and dusty.           do you know there

are things not written anywhere?  the page lay open the word in bold, the edges crumbled.



excitement  tasted in air,              another visit is promised with no word of god.         ahem.



the other book left tied.

paradise lost.



sbm.

as christ the king.

we came up the back way,
from the avenue.

she did not know of the place,
she asked her friend.

down in the lower room, we saw
the empty food bank, their cases
full of treasure.

read the names, the words in latin,
heard all the questions. wondered
at the glass in blue, honored in red.

later, she entered with her father,
processed, then got married.

outside it was raining gently.

sbm.


notes:-derived from Latin, processio, from procedere, to go forth, advance, proceed

their link says fortune/2 with 22 responses. we are good

to take up the challenge each day. step by step we work

to make a fortune here.



not bags of gold, no no.



we like just nice things to eat and comfort. we like to feel

well.



same as most others. i watch a programme last evening

about those who want more.



i live in the country, i have said this before.



sbm.

didn’t get the top for likes

even shares



yet i enjoyed my day

got rid of the chair i never liked

a compromise



wrangled it out through narrow doors

into the shed where i cover it solemnly



a white sheet is apt

the colour

can heal my soul

those bits that are left



i shall gather the rest together

reorganise these books

be busy

so that

i do not



think of them huddled there together

he is a man, who helped another man,
bravely.

small plastic, hiding his love,
only 20p.

bought him, pointed out his bravery
to others, the beauty of a man helping.

another man.

i have not yet taken his photograph.

sbm.

lodge of the desired haven , numbered 5948.



a ladies evening , patrons of

the benevolent institution. they ate



chipolata sausages while mrs harry

jones extended a hearty welcome &

trusted they were enjoying a happy

evening.



the haven found to mark the end of

the war on may 8th, read the history.



inside a small photo

tucked.



at one pound.



sbm.

while looking

for

‘i had no idea’

copy/paste

the day away





a little inkling eats a lot

we have two

here



darling

sweetheart





Dictionary
inkling
ˈɪŋklɪŋ/
noun
a slight knowledge or suspicion; a hint.
“the records give us an inkling of how people saw the world”
synonyms: idea, vague idea, notion, glimmering;
sense, impression, suggestion, indication, whisper, suspicion, sneaking suspicion, fancy, hunch;
knowledge, slight knowledge;
hint, clue, intimation, sign, pointer, insinuation, innuendo;
informalthe foggiest/faintest (idea/notion)
“I had an inkling of what was going on”

the planning office is up the road, by the old hospital

that was once a work house for the poor & suffering

to suffer more.



boils.



pass by regular on the way to somewhere else.



it is listed so any changes are scrutinised.



boils.



there have been a few.



changes.

i do apologise

did you say planet?



sbm.

a hot day at the mill,
fans cooled us, wool
sat heavy.

heat rose from the car park,
we busied.

made enough dogs.

i have no photograph,
the usual line.

sbm.

here

we

live in exaggeration, the weather is real,

as are the  mountains, feelings and foxy noses....


 bless all the foxes, their pointy ears upward.

hope work was good
lots of washing done
and clean

does it get steamy?

remember the days
at milton house, the
laundry lady grumbling
showing me stains that
i did not wish to see

remember the other days
her stripping the childrens'
beds, a large dormitory
sheets mostly wet

as you can tell my day
was well
much talk of foxes and
learned sadly that the
neighbour the other side
of the village hunts them
with dogs

the hounds are handsome
yet he said they stink, i wondered
why he did not bathe them

and thought that hunting innocent
things was banned. i am told it is so,
that the dogs held back, the gun is
used
legally

i like foxes
i like their little noses
the light in their eyes as they
ran in the field yesterday

he said the dogs are let loose
when fox is laying dead

i came home sadly
eyes mostly wet

the sign was  hand written

we need a tv

no witnesses nor mormons

in pencil



i was gone some time

past tense can be horribly traumatic

all things may come right in time, if you

loves the ones you think you don’t



yet then what do i know really, except the metal

twisted

comes round again, the radio

announcer says it is good, that

i am awake early.

well done.

we saw magnolia yesterday, blooming,

black grass and dogwood.

yet i shall like to the see

the orange trees, smell the fruit

descending. eat all that there is.

i had to go.  i missed the train.

sbm.

comes round again, the radio

announcer says it is good, that

i am awake early.

well done.

we saw magnolia yesterday, blooming,

black grass and dogwood.

yet i shall like to the see

the orange trees, smell the fruit

descending. eat all that there is.

i had to go.  i missed the train.

sbm.

over the lane



i watched him varnish his duck

while

previously he had fired up a chain saw

ready



we imagined he will cut the legs off the

taller one



two ducks in a row

were gathering dust at the bottom of  the

stairs



will now decorate the garden



we discussed the date and laughed about

star wars



together

the others came up the rise and spoke yet

they do not know me



sbm.

. we are friends .

we are friends , we met in the lane.

the words sound like poetry, the quiet
voice sounds shouting in this silence.

it can make windows and opportunities,
space to accompany the music.

travel far and in between, play the right notes,
write notes, and then maybe, all will come

clear. or not.

i need that stop.

i am sorry to hear of your day
if you able
the detail
i can listen
a new day
goldfinches on seeding knapweed
simple things

i was to cut it down soon
now i shall not

they balance so sweetly
eating the seed

yesterday was charming
i looked at the trees with clover
underlay
i looked at the garden

i will go again
another day

6.56
late summer
worrying

about friends

having often like old clothes,
have bought small dresses, with
no one in reach.

hung, they look pretty, the
experience helps now in family
business, and how busy the
family is.

took time out yesterday, bought
small dresses, in the rain.

it is a small family affair.

sbm