what can i say, except happy.



mine started after the solstice really,

it seemed to make more sense, yet



i will go along with the rest today, say happy.



we should say happy everyday.



i think it is a thread that runs level,

while the bad and joyous stuff, is

another, you know like those

graphs we did at school.

anyway, enough of the philosophy,

whille wind blows clear

outside.

don’t work if not connected, if not tuned in, you would think the experts would know that.  we need to signal to another.

comes a wider space, with mistakes and misgivings.

nothing in this world is perfect. it is raining today.

differing light

shades and all that surrounds

i drew them later
my way

see the softest looking clouds
wonder
if that is where that work came
from


with gentle grey

it is a tangled affair
too many people talking at once

it is a messy affair
paint smudges and runs

eventually all comes clear
one having the final say on board

predictions come and disappear
quickly as the local planes

sometimes heard
not seen
here

there is a small airfield up along
the coast

once the airship came
we drove to watch

it go over

heavy

days of our life

james

days of our lives

you thought we were broken
yet we watch you solidly, bravely like joan
with just one comma throughout

he stood like a dancer,
arms out.

he looked
and moved,
like a dancer.

becomes part of the
pattern
a mark on the horizon


could change it for another yet it has become
a mantra


a pause like in breathing

a handy hint is the furthest place,
people like to be near. people may prefer
moving forwards, not looking back too much.

things go round, rebound. it is a lovely
journey, through the mountain range, glory
for writing,

travel journals, while all the while, we think
we travel the other way.

so we did.

from the windows saw,

the softest steam morning

on the mountain.

the promise of another

day in wonderland.

moving on

things are now more ornate

in a rustic mode

me cutting thin slithers

so next i shall make wooden wheels

for something

they flew up so quickly i could not catch them

and the bus too far away

someone commented these sunny days that glare on the phone  obscures the subject anyhow

a case of point and shoot blindly

yet I saw the swallow yesterday
heard it had arrived on social

hengwrt posted

later I went down the estuary
to walk the wood

the tide was up  so wandered back to see the cowslips  and the photographer knelt in wet grass

a real camera

james

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

he said the flames

came over the trees.



behind the buildings.

bombed the buildings.



so do not wonder why

i don’t play soldiers,

lay them down to die.



he says that i will not battle,

i am no good at it.

too peaceful. i can play

hospitals.

maybe some do not plunge right in
just dabble on the surface

flick in puddles
like little birds

good to hear back from you yet sorry to hear about the difficulties.

.i were doing well with transport, using the buses and walking about.

.now we have the omicron creature here guess my leisure bus rides will be curtailed, essential travel only.

.it were a pleasant interlude encouraged by the grandson and another seasoned  traveller.

.so we move forward differently once again.

.while you and remain in mind.

.you with a balaclava now!

we lifted the soakaway cover rusty after years

saw a slow worm sleepy while ants ran about

placed the first in the ferns and waved to the others

drain rods functioned with a little resistance

distance calculated ,wiped and put away


indoors the sink runs clear

while i am educated

he was still laying down and mumbling.



‘why have you not shared that one

about belief ?’



i think i forgot.



‘did anyone read it?’



i don’t know.



the bear slipped back to sleep

holding the rags.

all became a thing yesterday
regarding these marks of ours

a bit of a collaboration
on twitter and we finished
on this

i hope you do not mind

said he didn’t watch it much while things are unsettled

over there


a poor choice of word maybe

perhaps not alarmist.


we asked if he referred to the war

which we consider affects us all


he nodded then sat down in his garden chair

the wood louse died and feel it was natural not ****** or an accident

a lot of this event here

an old house

feeling sad about it we remembered reading that the energy does not disappear

that it changes form

we smiled when we knew that and placed the tiny body in the compost

later that day we saw art from materials placed in compost

and smiled

research is kind, we have tried many colours.


we ate the cake, yet not wishing to appear
greedy left a crumb.
for a bird.

you know how you can hear me,

when i am thinking. ‘yes that is because

i came from the forest, it is quiet there,

we can hear everything’

yes.

‘where have you been all day?’

here and there and felt the air

on my cheeks.

‘ so i hope the blanket of sadness

is lifting?’

yes. thank you bear.

the anxiety failed later in the day


a more comfortable place as i
watched other peoples ways and
opinions

we saw the lights in the village

into the wild wood

feet plant into earth

again

skin sharp with lingered  frost

dust motes sing my heart high

is your head clear today, loose limbs, while mild air floats above.   will you go the other way, as you did yesterday?

the miracle of modern fabric,

when the door eventually opened,

i found not red runny,

nor shrunken woolly,

but just  clean washing…..

the miracles of modernity.

dark/ we painted it
all vaguely national
trust

i told him when he asked about dinner
with his sister

we laughed and the wind blew things
away

intentions to change it all
then see what is already there and
carry on quietly
knowing the change will come
whether slowly or suddenly
james

there was no fanfare,
no procession, no proclamation,
as i hit the button, no exclaimation
as i changed my life. as if no one
noticed, and if i am right, they
probably didn’t.

didn’t see as i drove the valley,
didn’t protest, or speak in tongues,
did not see the little things.

we bought winter food.

did not tell no one,

that while out walking

thinking of you in ukraine

my feet tangled in debris and i fell flat.

my mind is broken yet my phone and glasses
remain intact

my knee bled. my hands to save me

scabbed. limped back to you.

you who bandaged

& fed me sweet things.

will continue to think of you in ukraine, to walk alone in solidarity.

black bird sings early, the same bird calls late.
new light drowns darkness, spring spins around.
black bird calls early, the same bird calls late.
sonnet sings ten beats to another’s spare sound.

who asks for word, who knows which hour it starts,
which minute, which rule of rhyme or reason.
making of lines , counting the breaks, our hearts
open. this is february, split season.
moon draws the tide, upper river pools
on spring, a note , a sonnet , a dance
where light or other prayers redeem fools,
those who rage the world sons may change perchance.

on spring we write in fourteen lines, to date,

black bird sings early, the same bird calls late.

the drawing

went wrong from the beginning


i thought and on the wrong paper too

i thought


had ordered card from asda

got a substitution of a colouring book

more suitable for the house next door with children

i thought so donated it over


there


saw their puppy


then continued on the wrong paper

i thought

only things worked out

cojoined twins

early yet
I have to tell you
that
i went a different way
to avoid the usual

i too fly solo
&
enjoy the flight

when the day clears
i look up at the others

poor birds

have it difficult the best of times
then comes the festivals
those traditions

that mean they must die

talking of which
now we know

with our present hidings and isolation
distancing

how they live at all times

the creatures burn and die
fly
away

i watch the squirrels down the back lane
each day
sometimes one will stop running and

we look at each other

a while

met a friend for lunch and tea?

done the wrapping, sticking
and packing, most work has gone,
some has been hung, so i am left
with paper and bits below, new work
coming in.

the bottles are up for sale, and
am drawing an erasure with all
my might.

have you seen my writing site?

yes, we had kippers on toast, tasty.

in having found a book to read

in the corner chair by the curtain

hiding


delivered free by the library in town


the excitement in finding the place ready

facing the fire

the weather steady outside

a while


the fabric rich and heavy

safe from the arctic storm

deep holes,

cut grass and wiping stones.

there is a place.

trawsfynydd, we forgot the buzzing,

only heard the wind, for

wind there was this time.

the sky predominant, a gap

for the light to pass

now the days grow lighter, my head is
tied back on, and all seems well.

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

yes

has beautiful spots james
while i like any pattern that includes spots
and any other embellishment like bows

you know

day five brought two voices

one day

same segregation

a night of stars



sickly child and predetermined words

flicker from page to

flicking the power fails

while some follow the mass

others raise fist protest



nothing was ever promised

nothing ever came fair, an invented entitlement

where no one is entitled

we have one pause

a tadpole before the jumping frog

comes wet and creaking

we forget the punctuation

we look at the pictures

only

eight thirty  till five.   it could have been easy, yet there were issues of the electronic kind   meaning wasting time with wires and connections.

cover the surface.   it takes time.

while waiting and through the *****

left saw one golden tree

autumn cameo

each little thing

light is wonderful


lifts the brain and  limbs

beyond


sparkles   rain  the morning


once again we have the repetition

of words


shapes fly

she asked about side effects and though
after reading the instructions felt there

were none

noted before

when suddenly came the surge of energy