there is this little corner

tidy now

a niche

which needs a thing to make a point

for it


the storm came yesterday and tired from the work before

browsed the online and found many things

yet know that with time it will sort itself out


just as most places are tidy

the tree came down

and

next door’s shed blew about


it feels quieter this morning

best to be gentle with those and all other things…

red depleted.i use blue,
oh the darkness of it all,the surface tension,

primeval scream
hidden by centuries of crimson

perseverance came cheap they say

in the balance of things

cheap as sausages maybe

although not on offer at asda

come cheaper over at morrisons due next week

perseverance came lovely even the last seven minutes

beautiful like ballet landing softly

i ordered the sausages two packs for four pounds

no animal meat anywhere

meanwhile perseverance pays out

we move forward gently no longer quite so vulnerable

black crow bird

sits on fence

#resting

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

dark small cloud dropped rain.
still, the small birds sing

when sprayed
with cosmetic fixative
glow pink

did you find a pin there, did you pick it up and stick it?   did you stay safe, wrap the shawl around and hold    it   close?        did you see my life breaking, bring me pins for mending? …

some make mistakes

i do and avoid the capitals

main thing is to weather the storms
and visit daily

i too lean slightly

meeting
in the chapel,
house to pray on
small birds, charcoal
drifts. in air, in words.

symbols of poetry,
cut and pasted.

literally.

naturally .

the talk
came back to electrics
and ironing, side effect of
the tabernacle machynlleth.

drawing.

is a pretty thing especially today with the backdrop being darker

we shall have more drawings
i can see the marks & lines
pushing through
despite the weather

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

this is a little model.

it may be full of
metaphor.

yes.



i am sixty years older than you, think on that.



my mother’s name was madge, her mother

magdeleine, your grand grand parents.



it is said that i have learned more than you,

yet today   you come  wiser than i.



boy.

high, mountain track,
scattered trees, country
road.

spend the day , waterlogged
moor, black rooted, bring it home.

bert is no name for a storm, more like a neighbour in green road that time back, or the uncle  i was told of yet never met.

grey flannels with braces and maybe a moustache.  growing vegetables down the back and interested in  pigeons.

even a foster parent  playing the guitar to make one feel comfortable

while feeding you a kipper  for supper.

perhaps then an apt name after all

feels like autumn now, cat is in, windows misted.

a challenge to describe   these trees as suggested

the gentle good,  dawel disgyn,  little time

left, nor funds for flying.


tiny things become intimate


you may put them in cases, or hang on pins

straight or safety, it becomes political

the choice is yours


bulldog clips


you are the curator.


maybe things are red with black

today

you can pull them out one by one,

they will not grow again.



leaves a gap.



you can pull them out one by one

they will grow back and

fill the gap.

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

yet used independently,
alongside honest work,
for mending.

we miss you if you do not visit
a while

and we get all our tenses and lines
wrong and have to go back in a hurry

to amend

thankyou for the prompt, the questions.

some times there is no answer, no words to describe.

yesterday i went alone to hold those feelings private

there was joy in the small things

chips from the shop the first for two years

ate in the sun under the particular trees

the absence of red soap and the joy of seeing the garden again, the galvanised cold frames

and wondering why only eight of her children were carved in the church recess when she bore ten

yet I tell you this

it were a lovely day with new surprises

and confirmation that I never wish to win

nothing

there is nothing quite like changing stuff,

you see he always came on tuesday, but then

we started writing that day, so he will come

on thursday each month.

there is nothing quite like changing stuff,
you see he always came on tuesday, but then
we started writing that day, so he will come
on thursday each month.

do not dignify the challenges. tread sweetly,
move on.

it is simply.
not worth fretting.

things come awry and we leave it so

the random nature of things

faintly corrupted

when the painting was finished

the green house door fell off

so laughing we propped it on the chair inside

a donation

he suggested white nasturtiums quieter than the hot colours

i have ordered some via cashback

to come by post like the chocolate egg yesterday

or was that a trick?

once he suggested one hundred blue bells

they are growing too

i thinks of these things while watching monty don this morning

with coffee early

a whisper from you came

a good idea

to stop those dreams and headaches

the moon came bright with yet another name

concentrate, all comes into focus,
floating.

these are the warmer days, days of independance.

days to charm

down the centre of town
an avenue in fall

and the day came divine

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

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

the name will be the title,
length an object.

all else is waxed and tied
as usual, making
it unusual. when i explained,
she asked why will you do
that?

because of the chained libaries,
burning books, the secrets
you see? no, I don’t
she replied.

we worked on quietly
together.

or is it the air changing?

mood settles, or is it the
time of year?

so it was yet no one did anything

here

drew on experience

kept quiet

for no one

hears

they are dead

as deaf as a dodo

*

deaf as the man upstairs

dead as the designer now

the virus got them

they came with moustaches

all curly waxed

but it still got them

the day of the dead

it is warm and i worry
about the ice melting

comes a differing hue
with duck egg blue

the ironmongers in town
at one seventy nine

sea swim
is saturdays at ten in the morning,


sundays later at eleven.


this too remembered in the bathroom.
we use the pool, mainly.

we wonder how it will map
out

we have wondered before
when waking to a misted world

you remember it perfectly
describe with accuracy

the colander metal and bent
for straining the peas and
other vegetables

potato masher

i have that too but may
have photographed the
wrong one

we shall see later

mummy’s hammer kept
in the third drawer down
even now

even now I have her fish slice
though I don’t eat fish

you know

you know
we have different memories about some things
different opinions on other matters

yet we think of her colander

both the same

told him when he asked about dinner
with his sister


we laughed and the wind blew things
away

so the sky is pink, the window is open.



listen to the crow call, or is it a rook?



we have the memo.



‘it is cosy here this morning’, crooned the bear.

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

it has been warm
and sunshine here a few
days now

so much work achieved
outside
like

painting the studio
the wooden walls
outside

then preservation
on the summerhouse
and tidying that garden
round the back

this morning my hands feel rough

so you wake and hear the sound

then change your plans


arrow the tasks forward

then check the website and do not amend

accept the substitutes or refunds


move the car up

open the gate carefully so it does not break

again


these are little things


some of you out there are suffering

and how can I help?


the bear sighs and turns over

no words to describe the mass,

the danger of it all, the hate  that

rises.



the parallel,

the home, the black chair.



power house.

bone house.

:: you know ::


five men


those men who desire

who speak in three voices


is all i will say here, you know who you are

*

time is upon us as he writes

the old way


dust from the fire

he weaves

remembering the beginning

of it all


ash escapes his brain

into solitude


days left

three voices

rise until just one

is heard

days left,

three voices

rise, until just one is heard

there is always something
which is often nothing

to worry about

stressing over imagined happenings
which don’t  occur

she came worried about monkey pox
so made her ordinary  tea

the next day I travelled  up
walked the streets and saw

the stories there
for a change

the voices rise

:: 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