cover the place with whiteness.
pink is pretty, white is clean.

they do not want to see it
today, a reminder of fragility.

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.

understand the difficulties

understand the fear


it needs to have activity

it needs to have depth


yet there is no need for admiration

no need for folk to like it

and we worry when they do

the idea left us dancing.

use what is already there,
make do and mend

sometimes
as I sure many do
i stand and watch

the leaves come gentle down
no sound

and with luck and twilight

the bats arc out

geometric flight

tell no one

all is protected and rightly so

we are creatures of the night
one way or other

up the road by the foxes crossing
lights
protect them from the road

low light
i have that here

deep windows
enough to see

gently

for me gently works best these days

it is a junction

the old railway track

the road to the farm there

tidy and organised

they saw me coming, waited and said hello

said they were coming so we waited to see

them come running the quad bike behind herding

all excited and we laughed to see

the calves run out into the field the first time ever

with their mothers

now your name may be redeemed
your wanderings freed into new

adventures

or maybe you will still stay inside a while

inside the boundary lines

four fields

corona

your words come different, while

with your question come forth

sense of

another world

metaphors, inuendos

a door into an other world

breaking cups    spilling tea will abuse the hospitality

please come. i have the kettle on.    this is not the time

for hostility

“Hurry burry refers to a busy, boisterous activity. Surprisingly this English term was borrowed & derived from a Tamil word – Arakka parakka (அரக்க பறக்க ). To move or do things more quickly than normal is termed as Parapara (பரபர) in Tamil”

..curry..

so we takes our time these days
wash hands carefully

pinafore and radio on

dancing

think of our mum as we chop the onions
how she added curry powder and sultanas
to the baked beans
as a savoury

a nod to another culture
she never knew.

a nod to the war rationing still in place

slowly add in more ingredients while
whirling gracefully in the boots that

have become more appropriate
now

now
we wait a while and let it rest

there is no hurry any more
there never was

then later eat it slowly

no hurry burry curry

did not draw yesterday. my mind did not wander in that world of marks of manifestations

i stayed up the house while the storm was outside with another name and watched a while

when it became too much and notices of fallen trees were all around I drew the curtain against the sky ; admired the fabric

that was the only thing I drew yesterday

i tidied a cupboard already done and thought about your birthday

packed all your gifts ready yet I did not draw anything properly yesterday

concentrate, all comes into focus,
floating.

these are the warmer days, days of independance.

days to charm

cutting,
bleeding the lead
into showers,
and explosive marks.
the power house rears its head again,
pouring images down
like rain.

from the windows saw,

the softest steam morning

on the mountain.

the promise of another

day in wonderland.

let us look at things, differently.

often, we do things, no one ever sees.
that is you and me. two of us
dancing on the sand.

it came
and went,
quickly.

he stood like a dancer,
arms out.

he looked
and moved,
like a dancer.

early for some, late for others, we came. different reasons.

danzÓn.

they  do not know the darkness

how the light can fade into latin

& all things unreasonable

here we need no black days
no more, not in this house

seen too many troubles….

a darker green,
jasmine climbs the window,
storms brew, we are older now.

small thing ragged who knows all of it pieces torn away

work along the coast with thread and diligence

gather wools layer carefully

we shall have warmth this winter

wind blows around our houses

water seeps

yes i imagined it well

after trekking those miles
on return empty the machine
to fold the washing before the drying

sheets entail my arms aching
still recovering from all the moving
while walking

shall think of you
at work swinging
to jazz music

the laundry closed here on lockdown
temporarily
have not heard since
so maybe it was
permanently

inadvertently i squashed a woodhouse
today

now i beg forgiveness

we are little things

that dance in the mornings

james

by the light of the phone….

5
power house looms ahead. they pray for peace and family, their lovely homes and

salary. pigs. work for the people supposedly.

darkness descends
with out the need for words. pray for
forgiveness if you are so inclined.

a tragic happening when

history and the day collide

each taking care of their own

as we should

darker hours

still

the mind wanders

dark the day came

even with the sky

real blue.


the helicopter flew over.

light came, we saw the green ness of it all.                          we live in the country.

the sounds
softer.


once the day is dawn, the door is open, face the sky, all
comes well some days.

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

we wait for a wild wind
for the apples to fall it

doesn’t happen yet

and those he clouted with the clothes prop
were already pecked severely

the birds come hungry

they talked about the difficulties that face
us this winter

realisation came that I would have chosen
this if I had seen an example
or followed a trend
bought
a trial period

however things occur
some parts are okay

he thinks I am a hill billy which amused me

yesterday they took a different route while

i followed at a distance

james

days off

&
 
we walked on up near the copper mine , a darker place.                          got to thinking.
 
&
 
it comes as no suprise. often ill they die.                                   it is the way.     it is not sad.
 
&
we are sensed with  loss.                                                                  ­               that includes you.
 
he says that’s where the wind comes from,                                       to go most everywhere.
 
&
 
probably do not miss him.                       he was not around us much, well  not at all really.
he buggered off.   no inspiration then.                                                   yet.   he was my dad.
 
&
 
some day i will carry the bones inside.

thankyou

for your offered help

and saying you care for my welfare

all very much appreciated

i thankyou and say it is only temporary

tide comes up,

it will pool, deep and dark,

still, inviting.

deep waters to sooth pain,

that comes as the tide

now and then.

an old story remembered
that warm afternoon while all were playing

relaxing.

the hunted tried not to sleep

there

handbag, not fit for any purpose than
delight and design.

have a nice star symbol on the forecast
six sided
and while I hear rain now
on the cat slide
know there will be no walk early
again

have tear drop symbols too
which is correct so a good
job done here yesterday

it would be no good today

cat howled as i put her out
she slept on the dining room
table again

all the telling that the uncut moquette
is most comfy
goes unheard

preferring dark wood

each day I wash and polish
hoping for a change in attitude

i have stories on the shelf
may write them one by one
some day

as

yesterday I verbalised some

the job sounds fine
out and about

he liked that
the freedom

another way of being

a different way to go


sometimes our house is on fire

yet we think there is reversing in the lane

turn to find the pepperoni has burned

yet nothing is damaged

really


the goods are delivered

and the bird is safe

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

shall we rescue the drowning where we can ;
record the names?

we need to concentrate on detail

to describe things properly

need to

go there each year a while

to retain to remain in memory

need to

care for  little things

we need to concentrate on detail
to describe things properly
need to
go there each year a while
to retain to remain in memory
need to
care for  little things

he seemed surprised yesterday that i had completed the task


to ensure the proportions looked right for me


it is part of the job and if it is diaried must be done

goes where it leads me, a kind of conversation between me and the work, but drawing on what is in mind.

“kind of a diary?”

he seemed surprised yesterday that i had completed the task

to ensure the proportions looked right for me

it is part of the job and if it is diaried must be done

seems maybe if it is written down

for tomorrow

in the diary

it gets done today

finalised with finesse tomorrow

like

the stick fence and composting

and other varied tasks

pottering in and out

did you see that river stone there

adding accent

do you see the chicken wire behind the ivy covered some time ago

do you find that predictor adds words not required and meanings irrelevant

even the thorns came useful

they did not know she had many, neither did she. just collected one item at a time, cared fully for         each one of them.                                                                                                          catalogued

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? …

it all gets delivered here
nicely

except when it gets misdirected
to the big house
the holiday house

i guesses so
nips down the hill
their drive

collect, reverse

only fuel for the cars
has to be fetched and
they have a pretty shop

except once in i steam
so cannot see most things
that are in front of me

james

it is suggested I become seasonal

again

although I don’t remember this arrangement

as it is usually vegetables

that come so

slipped sideways.

while all remains the same, something is different.

it will pool, deep and dark,

still, inviting.

deep waters to sooth pain,