the challenge is rain

and we had some

had looked at the writing and chose a small one though i do like the long one

about wet days on the hill…

like in a circus those days

now there are no animals
mainly clever folk being smart
or funny

said to come to bed quick

lay down and rest

the warm blanket cosy


make a nest

a bit ******* round

and hopefully it will all go away


i said to the bear, i said that

the washing was left out and I had not washed up yet


dear bear said it did not matter

that care will be taken

and we will not tell the little ones

for fear of worrying them


we watched the sun go down together

nige.

you showed me your first car with the glove compartment

i
sat and thought about my situation

felt I could live in a car

decades later
learned that you did

seems that you are trouble, is that correct?
yes.

it seems you need to let the birds sing

they say my brother
would walk to Sherry’s
for the stales with a pillow

case to carry they say

he never ate none on
the way home and i

wonder if that is true

later years gran would
take me in the shop
to buy fresh

she favoured the cream horns.

we were friends

more than that with promises that faded into silence.

i woke this morning the same

traces remain hidden for the most part
only to come out on particular
occasions
without  warning

she said it without  warning
& i was horrified

there seems to be a satisfying nature
in sawing and chopping wood

providing warmth and safety

for oneself
for family

i like sawing a lot

the action
watching the dust fall

laughing as it cuts through

a piece falls to the ground
to be gathered later

for whatever task is intended

we have a metal incinerator in the garden
as you know and only burned garden stuff

not used so much now the recycling centre

is back open
with organisation and printed labels

so very pleasing for some
a chore for others

they recycle most things
except the plastic bags

they go elsewhere

we have orange juice sometimes
instead of elderflower

all things refreshing

no words to describe the mass,

the danger of it all, the hate  that

rises.

the parallel,

power house.

bone house.

fear

of this and that
of nothing in particular
that no one else  will
understand

there have been a couple
of incidents but now she
is in disguise
with different
hair

grass
holds the sand.
sand holds
the grass.
have you walked the dunes
hollowed path, coconut gorse.
have you found contentment there?
have you sat the sun, black crow bird,
have you closed your eyes at that
within, enjoyed that
without?
the tin hut is still empty.

duck egg blue

the ironmongers in town

at three seventy nine

we can walk there and back or there

and bus back you see

did i sit quietly thinking
then place a few
things together?

yes

is all a pattern, that keeps us safely,        moves us

onward.

the idea left us dancing.

use what is already there,
make do and mend

it is a topic here and a memory

the privet

that is why it is labelled now

belonging to a social media group

with memories of where i lived

growing up

saw a photo of privet road, the corner

with a comma here

halfway up the hill was the coal and seed merchants and I used to go in with mum

cole and son

i guess she ordered coal not seed as there were five of us and not much time for gardening though gran’s mr palmer did next door

along the wall in tubs were the seeds to dip into , to feel

with permission and samples of the differing fuels

coal, coke, briquettes and nutty slack

i liked our visits there very much and had forgotten what was around the corner

saved the photo and sent it to my brother who replied and sent a current google view by return

he said he preferred the photograph which was nice as he does not always reply

i still like coal and seeds

some things don’t change

well hello

you see I did write back to you

in

a different format

more like a letter now

ideas ,
allelujas of creativity.

let the change come slowly,

join the group.

the fall is abrupt and possibly dramatic

related to weight & gravity

like a

black ink line ruled sharply down

ending with an abrupt grand splatter

i dislike the cold
have wrote if that before

though not to you

i wrote that I fear slipping

breaking the soft words

of my life

*

there is news from the village

some is good and all there is tidy

while some comes shocking and hard

to bear

james

fighting the predictions

came shiny
lovely at 45 degree angle

oh no
he said
this is the wrong one

:: numbers ::

did you see the fairy folk fluttering

moth mouths and mismatch


the day came clear with numbers

written backwards


did you know that or did you google to find out


touch lightly in case wings

disintegrate to dust


tread lightly my dears

count them

steadily

pause like in breathing


I hope you don’t mind
and that is how it started

some things fade with time,
with sun and washings.
this one remained bright,
even glaring

12.37 pm.

.a mild day here with light cloudings.

.after chores and a quiet walk around the lanes watching the birds and other gentle creatures, went into town to the half price sale in the charity, i believe you say thrift .

.a repro can, gender based on gentlemen and a badge for John’s jacket which is deeply embellished already.

.chatted to Ianto on duty at the art place then bought boxes at Clive’s to hold the new paints tidy.

.lit stove and now a couple of hours painting.

.a photograph will follow.

the thing desired some years back

is

now offered

& now

no longer required

i too fly solo though
i did enjoy live performances
as you may tell

with all that talk of circus

i too fly solo
&
enjoy the flight

when the day clears
i look up at the others

used to wonder where they go
now I have an app to tell me

i watch the geese in the estuary
hear their sound

later in the garden
when the sun shows

raise my face into that light

is a fine line we walk,
gently avoiding peptides,only just a theory,

yet used independently,
alongside honest work,
for mending.

asked me who will be afraid of our ghosts

ghosts of humans
when we are gone

do not wish to hide
do not wish to run
to take the boat and steer
to take the hiatus i fear

now your name may be redeemed
your wanderings freed into new

adventures

carefully we drew her out

all tidy with reason, wearing

us down

maybe connections are missed the link dismissed.    

metaphors faint as my flimsy whispers  

symbols   do you deny me peace?   perhaps you utter the words constantly?  

look closely

nicely

sometimes I have toast

and sometimes insert one comma

we shall never know
for there is no microscope

here

moving on i feel it was a flashback
to the girl who wished for quiet and
can remember  in detail

that was good to hear that you had company in the garden yesterday, that he visited.

all was good for me and to say the book stayed in the bag all day.

it was refreshing to be with those on the same wavelength – a relief from the other world.

the garden was beautiful, they have such a talent with planting .

today the roofers return and I go to the ******* dump early.

bought her tea set gently in parts
each week from woolworths and i still have
some of it

we listen to the rain early

with mixed feelings

there may not be gardening done today

there may be drawings

looking up
see rainbows

the small plane still flies over
most days

drawing lines

in paper, cutting,

bleeding the lead

into showers,

and explosive marks.

the power house rears its head again,

pouring images down

like rain.

struck dumb

i shook to think of you all

looking up as one plane flew over

she was drawn again yesterday with her sibling

though it did not look quite right so

shall i tear the sister off?

each morning, each morning write to you
as if you are here

still

as if talking to you still

look to the window , see the grass is cut again
flowers gone

still wonder

where you are

or nowhere?

look out again , see green cherries on the tree

:: tides are higher now, flooding the paths. he walked the mud, bringing the footsteps back to us ::

care for small things

to be tired after it all
to sleep soundly

carelessly

the day yesterday

some photos show nothing
while paintings can come
more personal

maybe it came across preachy

and was not intended so



it was the sound of the guns that startled

my day

then on being told that birds were the target
was sad



don’t mind what other folk eat at all

especially those on tug hill
over there



today i ate toast and honey that dripped

down my pyjamas



how are things?

maybe I should write beautiful

lilting stuff again with rhymes and things

like people seem to like


or tragic dark long stories

of dreadful deaths

and mourning

as before


today will say it would have been

an anniversary

for what that is worth


he asked me the year

and surprised that i remembered


of course i miss them

just pretending to be a hard *****