small items for sewing and other notions.
ribbons wound carefully secured with a
nice topped pin, not the ordinary.

it should be so, or sew.

buttons in bottles, and jars,
safed for the occasion, with
occasional poppers, oft worded
press fasteners unlike hooks,
and eyes,known as hooks and eyes.

the word appears in chaucer’s
canterbury tales, appears here,
too.

haber dashers have patron saints
just like all the other trades,
alongside worshipful companies.

at the mill , all is tidy now.

sbm.

it is a relaxing place the library,
free rental on a dvd if you borrow
books.

a barry hines. all creatures great
and small.the enemy within, a short
history of witch hunting, recommended

by the boston globe, and a guide to
the king james bible, the english language,
words like begat, horribly afraid, goats and swine.

a lovely children’s illustrated for inspiration, delight.

we built blocks, read jokes, talked of mending,
forgot our toys.

i read asher lev….

the dvd didn work.

sbm,

as for working shoes or boots
mine were expensive in their time
bought with guilt over ten years
now gone thin below

i asked the cobbler how much
to repair
he said too much more even
than the original cost

me with my foot booted on his
counter

my soles get cold
so i bought those woolly things
to put inside at 2.50 per pair

things will last a while longer
while my soul is warmer maybe

a new bike for you this winter
james

you have been good?

my car is mended, came back
too late for the day so we went
by bus up over and past the power
station

with the winter sun slanting up
and back by lunch in time to

light the stove, to do the laundry
enjoyed not having my own
transport a while..

haircut day

i am a detective a bit

like

harry lime

looking for a beetle

blackened ; crusty with a smart serge suit from

foster brothers



went missing a week or so ago

the full moon following



reported by a family in the

cellar concerned



by its legs waving wildly ; sock dangling

backed on flagged floor



missing person



crisp printed poster

denoting

changed your life?



it may have,

if only imperceptibly.



#definition, very slight, gradual, or subtle:

the imperceptible ***** of the road. See more.

#so slight, gradual, or subtle as not to be perceived.
“his head moved in an almost imperceptible nod.
so slight, gradual, or subtle as not to be perceived.
“his head moved in an almost imperceptible nod.

so slight, gradual, or subtle as not to be perceived.
“his head moved in an almost imperceptible nod.
so slight, gradual, or subtle as not to be perceived.
“his head moved in an almost imperceptible nod.
so slight, gradual, or subtle as not to be perceived.
“his head moved in an almost imperceptible nod.

i admire those i see  proactive, speaking
out even about little issues. it may get on your
nerves, you may like a quiet time.

it may be so slight, you did not notice.
yet.

the change can be so huge, that
he does not wish to live in this
world any more.

do you worry at the news too?

sbm.

a meditation on thread,

mediation of red, i dream

of you.



clearly your clothes remain

the same, worn, washed,

pressed.



your ideas come different, you

talk of immersion,

and security, nothing was

further from my mind.





the moon came early

a different window.



this does not mean i

have time,

i will be sewing.



i have made notes and numbers,

pinned it to the wall.



sbm.

we do not all know the same things.

we all have learned different. that
is alright.

takes a while to understand, to
know that the looms have stopped.

some times it needs time , fortitude
to get things back working.

with courage and wd40.

sbm.

was collected, may be sent
to london in the post. he will
have to declare the contents
of the box, as i declare
my work.

she is often startled
by those words, as we

all are sometimes.

soon the swallows come.
we shall go to stokesay.

sbm.

Hawfinches are shy birds, rarely seen. That is what the books say.

Notes in books are black and white, with coloured pictures, often

photographs.



They come to the gate with walking boots, notebooks and sun hats

in the summer. If they come tall  find it hard to negotiate the lower

branches.



A country garden.



Roger found things difficult, a sensitive soul standing six feet four. Some

were cut on his advice.



The first negotiation.



The grass banks slip while wet ; safety training  kicks in.

Royal Mail.                                                   Country Garden.



Those watchers climb the back stone steps to watch the birds. In groups they come

with binoculars.

Ask to see the skull; the big beak.



Second negotiation; two of many.



By my gate it fell.

The hawfinch.

once a hayloft, above the stable.

this was a meeting place. we cleaned

the upper room ready, removed winter

detroitus, hummed latin verbs, generally

was busy.

all is washed and cleaned ready.

everyone is refering to easter,

sun day april fifth.

sbm.

sand blown softly

patterned, seeded.



grass grows.



dunes.





sbm.

can be muzzy things, caused by a
sincere lack of liquidisation,
or a symptom of another particle.

substance is taken, ibruprofin, after
hunting the bags, the old bathroom cupboard,
which is tidy now. tea then, and typing, ensuring
the jaw and neck are slack, no tension.

think of montgomery, the garden, relax, and know,

that others have worse than tight head pain.

maybe this is smoke inhalation,
maybe it is nothing at all.

no hormones, no alcohol required.
bandages are useful.

sbm.

threads stretch out the shape,

pinned           like skin drying.



pinched.



wound.         it is a soothing

thing.



as spinning. heads eleven.



depends on the pronunciation,

the spelling is the same. stretched.



tortured.



heads eleven.



it continues.



sbm.

seems there is still some room,
an expansion, another way to think.

to think,that one can do things, often
means you can. difficult, sometimes, yes.

one step at a time, eating garden fruit
and fortitude.

a good summer for the garden, plans ahead.

hours of pleasure.

i shall take photographs.

sbm.

we have kiln dried birch logs
and coal type nugget things

morning sticks, while some say kindling

newspaper and bought firelighters
that smell

in boxes

i use two now, my mother only would
use one

she was thrifty with the need to be

storage heaters too. we are all electric
there is no piped gas in the village

there are electric blankets alongside
those others for warmth

so we tuck inside and face the fire
we shall have warmth this winter



we buy supplies as required
not sure how long it will all
last….

hot weather.



bad smell.



is it the drains?



no. the tory government.

sbm.

i have been out looking

for you

amongst the knapweed

amongst the flowers



cut those brambles that may stick

to your prickles



we left it longer

the tidying this year

so as not to be a slave to it

and rewards are endless





good it has become a fashion with the climate

changing

it always did make sense to me

others thought not in the past



we have a a past, it keeps reminding me



rewilding.

. some hedges are higher than others.               i wrote . a thing so private, so intense .   . simple , complex. no one will see it .                           note your achievements to date.                     .hell no.

we talk  again, for these are not vertical.                           we walked the dazzled mirror, crept.

.small and slightly curious  conversations.

we chatted over manners and harboured hedges. these things  …

moved the line into a place of  rural contemplation.

sbm.



45809101515390816011771976450131_n

he land that time forgot
is here
down the road a bit

with stories how he clambered
to the plateau to rescue the
lost dog

or did it find its own way down

really

ours is a small town with buses
in the square at certain times
lamplight reflected on wet roads

the travellers find their own amusement
while waiting

some have a smoke and chat on phones
some drift to the shops to window think
while i watch the boys on bikes

news came yesterday
so driving home past the power house
decide that will be the next meeting place
with family

and ghosts

do you have salad cream on tug hill
does it catch your throat too?

hell no. i cannot think of it everyday,

nor have regrets, ignoring memes.





held deep and private,   a way

to live.



think.



remember what you said.

to me.







hell no.



sbm.

managing?  knowing that it will come clear,

gradually, carefully, piece on piece.

they do say, a little help

et cetera, they do say such

a lot of things.

help spurred me on to

sort and tidy, categorise

again.

they do say that it is *******,

yet placed in tidy piles, it

becomes most attractive.

they even like the photographs.

sbm.

the work comes different, place to place. Hen Blas is a new situation for me; the new studio.

some things take time, layers form, marks come and go.

new geography has dictated the nature of the paint covering those from years past



i have written that these were painted in 2018, yet may i say started in 1999 in another place, another life.

i can no longer remember all that lays beneath yet know that some of that will always show through

i have submitted them as unfinished, finished for now. the work is ongoing, the adventure with paint and its expression of land and soundscape

demands are everyday

simple things can be priceless & while the words pound

grind

oh make us cry

while the world is turning there is a small hope to always return home



then



why did he mention the old house?

i thought he did not know

when he looked at me







i slept a darker paint

a place of nowhere

no marks no texture

clarity



from



days of research

at the old house

&

out in the land



feeling the way

through the history of this place



threatened



you ask for a fantasy      a challenge

this is a house full of ideas

statements

a house of dreams and nightmares





i thought he did not know

when he looked at me

he always had that small hope to return home





listed building

lurching sideways keeping my balance

i returned home

she asked what it is all about. just everyday things to look at,

nothing to buy, like in a museum with pins and labels. i am

pleased to say that the typewriter is arrived and has a    new

riboon, black and red stripes horizontally.

ˌhɒrɪˈzɒnt(ə)li/
adverb.

no, nothing is for sale now and who will want it these days?

she had moved the cabinets, so we paced the upper rooms.

sbm.

as you may know,

it was a seedy day

yester day

so i lit the fire and sewed

superman pants.



used herring bone stitch

soothing in white



watched the film

flickering

and remembered

fridays was fish



we had herrings

fried the skin crisp

the roes plump and hard



the boys liked soft

suppose they would



used old cotton,

naturally and the wire

needle threader

fingered stiffed

sewing done felt a little

better



more coal on the fire

all will be well

notes

Hospital Name: Herrison Hospital
Previous Names: Dorset (New) County Asylum, Charminster Asylum, Dorset County Mental Hospital
Location: Herrison Road, Charminster, Dorset
Principal Architect: Henry Edward Kendall Junior. George Thomas Hine
Layout: Corridor Plan
Status: Converted to housing
Opened: 1863
Closed: 10th January 1992



:: more notes ::



:: histories ::



there are no internal photographs

there are no photographs with people

only cars

and windows

she suggested that i write a novel,   when

i noted that she walked briskly to the post

box,                                       dressed suitably.

i do not copy                                   plagiarise

or write about my friends.

on consideration the issue i had with shampoo

may have started in my youth.        she said soap

was good enough for me. i found it sticky and

told.

they decided on the children’s home  as

if  it was true regarding my worth.

last week i bought a pleasant blend, decanted

into a special bottle

like  an elixir.

i also bought soap.

just now a helicopter flew low.

i saw the pilot.

sbm.

have you collected seeds of many years, packed, labelled,                                                   dated.

have you died, and left the table unprepared. i have them now in boxes,                                 a gift.

from those who love.                                                    they will bring me work, joy,                   an independent air.

seeds need water.

sun stays later.

i have imposter syndrome, never diagnosed yet googled when heard on                             radio live .

there may be too many additives these days                                       not enough honesty grown.

she said i should have something                                                               new in the greenhouse.

i have, i said, and thought of  you who

planted the seeds.

sbm

unpredictable name

lean on the fence to look

over

a steep drop to the river

tears well as we speak of it openly



to break the cut a pheasant came comely

all collars & spectacles



walked sedately to the edge while

i imagined it may fall or fly

over



he continued head forward

feet unhinged to walk down

that cliff

properly slowly with dignity



astounded i turned

went back to work the worst

of the tremors over



it was such a shocking statement to hear



a hill of loss

no single supplement, it is a family room

& the boy goes cheaper

being smaller.



he will fetch my orange juice at breakfast;

he always does.



three of us so

one double bed,

one single.



may i have the single bed?



no. you are in the double with mum.



please please

i really need a single bed.



so do i – next time you will go with

mum & dad &

things will be different.

( notes on darkness) more fairy lights is all that is needed, radio music, and padding about really….

with great love and care ( adverb) he made them. each one             by hand.

most were killed before breakfast. visitors asked to see the bodies,  having

none, he imported them from abroad.                                    more  killed than

the somme. thousands after dawn.                         he has models now of dead

soldiers, some with arrows in.

small scene          first world war,                            glow in the dark.    memorial.

having spent time among his battles,   i went and ate a donut.           lovingly.

sbm.

i saw you fallen & photographed you

took you to be stitched yet could not save you nor any of them



it feels natural, without the need to explain. to verbalize the fallen



his small collection comes from concerns with the fallen

bear says he has seen much

even suffered as is said



hoping to stay in europe

yet

nothing saddens as the news

came yesterday



that all  insects die

gone by

the end of a century



they say



noting

nothing for the feelings of the bear

they say it matter of fact as if no

one cares

they know i am away

the bear told them.



i had a converstaion

telling him to be

brave and responsible

as i must be.



he nodded gravely,

and will be.



sbm.

comment, been asked to write?

has it all overtaken the urge
to say the things you hope,
the words you think.

one is important as the other.

i told him that i do not get
angry as expected, try to do
my best.

told him about the situation,
why i cannot drink
hot chocolate, now.

yet i shall comment soon,
and just maybe
try the drink again.

(holding nose).

sbm.

white hook


redeeming feature
of the brown house

blaenau ffestiniog

“excuse me, i should like to go on holiday in september please.”

–

“that soon?

fancy that! I shall go to the foot of our stairs”

–

” no, no, i should prefer the steppes in central asia; i like

to travel the continents”

–

” yes i am inclined to agree; it will be an uphill journey

for us both.

to learn, to grow & to rise in status



in society”

early

they come as mosquitoes by the bridge; swallows returning

a haze of aftershave

chanel buzzing talking of how it will be to live here

littering banks with towels chairs & chatter



sunblock slides the stones others so carefully balanced



sheep scatter



later dozing after burgers awake to leave in heavy fuming cars

queuing



he would say vehicles



home i tremble

remember the old rule

tell the cat i love it

like the quiet

regret bank holidays that break my silence

words recede.

our upbringing denounces us.



i stand in the garden, a glimpse

of the bat out late.     early here.



now i am hollow.



he said that swimming can be dull,

i prefer calm.





we hide from nothing in particular,

distance becomes us.



near cuckoo woods,



the hollow i sat as a child.



empty dry ditches.



sbm.

comes out every year,

stored in one of the

outbuildings.



this is neither poetic nor

important, yet

we walked down the lane

together, slowly.



to place the holly wreath.



sbm.

liking cheeses          he served them to his guest.



six types,    some from caves and ewes. tasted.



words came ****.



tongue

stilled.



no need for pickles. their marmalade

was good,            with spiced oranges.



their guest said little,     ate the peel.



found that bitter.



fromage.



sbm.

in dreams make the things you love,
take them, show them to this world.

i will put them in exhibition.

sbm.

we have a storm coming

mainly wind and rain





some of the trains are

cancelled disrupting plans

causing stress & worry

for those travelling including

me



yes, i have snowdrops of differing varieties

the plural of crocus, those early tiny daffs

known by another name and celandines





there is blossom out on the tree that scottish

power gave me to replace the one they cut down

in error



it looks japanese and is a lovely shape of angles



your weather sounds severe so stay as safe

as you can





a pleasant day planned

at home

settled back here yesterday

nice to be home

miss their company

it is cooler here now

late summer

early autumn

i am working today

while you have a break

i shall look at the garden today

and talk more

about it

another day

6.36 am

shortly

thinking

listening

was it the beer,
that made him mellow,
or just a gentle way
about him,
naturally.

i slipped by.

when he asked if i was speaking,
i says," if you like".

we chatted over manners
and harboured hedges.

these things  happen in the lane.

sbm.

you are not alone, i will help you.



i know.

you have.



yes. you only have to say



thank you bear.



sbm.

the bear is very tired today,

has stayed in bed. we have

the linen sheet.



left rumpled now.



slowly we dreamed

we became homeless



again.



sbm.

it is a new stove. i had it last year.



while away i left the door shut

on my return i lit the sticks and coal



november the fifth



i cleaned it next morning ready

and found the tiny bird by the door



inside



not even burned



yet dead



i have kept it photographed it



it was not a bonfire

it was an accident

to be spoken in clear voice…



howard rose profoundly swearing ; his end perforated  with a rose thorn from the thicket

his friends found his behaviour boring, wondering what he had been boring down there in the hedge

howard removed his suit to apply the ointment to his wound, yet it did not suit his skin.

he felt inclined to seek help for this affliction, got up to quickly and fell down the incline.

‘**** it’ he yelled,’ now i have ripped my trousiers and do not know how to **** and mend them’

so he hid in the shed where he shed all his garments and bared his soul.        
                                                                                                                                                                       tada!