the boy,
trails a piece
of brown twine,
with paper tied loosely,
to one end, around the dry green brown lawn.
it is for the little
grey, blue cat, to chase
and pounce upon,
a game, they never tire of.

the father,
tends to the flowerbeds,
with copious trips of
the watering can.
the water restrictions
forbid the use of the hose, and the plants must drink
to survive.
whilst to-ing, back and forth, from tap to plant,
he keeps an eye
on the boy as he plays.

the mother,
sits on the front steps
and watches all,
with cool drink in hand.
she has just finished, preparing the night's repast and has left it
simmering, gently
on the stove.
she takes this moment,
to escape the kitchens heat and sits in the cool sea breeze.
taking immense joy, in watching the afternoon, wind down in such a restful way.
the cat,
pounces on the string
pulling it gently from the boys grasp.

the family
laughs at his rolling,
pawing antics, as he, truimphs in his catch.

before picking up
the cat and boy
and walking inside,
to the smell of chicken curry, green but mild.

bullet bitten
coffee smelt
road been beaten
ducks in a row
pigs grounded
box shredded
roses smelt
chewing the elephant
as we speak
no looking back
dusting the cowbwebs
offa the shelf
and the tigers in my eyeline now me and my betterself gonna take a timeout
talk about my life
got the box list here
love check,check,check
life double check
home check
health check
wow !!!
all silver and gold affirmitive wealth
so now i can,
kick back,
relax and grow
disgracefully old.
jeez i just love
this new
self management gig .....lol

i am tangled up ........and caught out in the..... doodles on my writing pad ....lines of ink ....turning circles up..... on itself..... great loops of nothing...... but sloppy eternity..... rings ...and . ....sideways.... sloping eights and ......sloveny obese zeros i am... hung up .. on time ..at present ..small moments... . .....forty-five years...of.... fore-evers ..... and miniscule secondia.... just hung.. up... ....doodling.. wasting ...time
timing space....crazy paving
.....the forcourt.. of my
oodling.... idling brain.

the sun streams
through the curtains
in a cat sized patch

and there we find him
this connoisseur of apricity
stretched and flat
drinking of the winter day's
meager glory

tail flicking on ocassion
and one eye open..
to the possibilty
of bacon on the run.

he is now of the age,
where he needs warm
his bones ,
before he thinks of...
completing his  yoga
and cleaning down there.

so the little blucat
has become a master
at fitting his body
into any sliver or ****
of winter sun ....

and is often found dozing.
..or as elliot claims,
contemplating the depth,
and meaning of his name....

the potter,
made me whole.
the world broke me.
you, are the craftsman,
who put me back together.
it is your love,
purest gold, that holds
the broken shards in place
and makes me,
beautiful, beyond measure.
to the eyes of the beholder.

sins of omission,
are piled up
mountain high.
led to by a road,
cobbled with
pride and self gain.

and my unknowing
self plies this road,
daily, to place the
newest coins upon
the peak.

and my knowing self
sits, at it's base.
awaiting the avalanche
to fall.

would that i be,
lost for an eternity.
in the sparkle
of your eyes.

would that you be,
found for an eternity.
in the upward turn
of my lips.

would, that we be,
after said eternity.
still enrapt,
in the love
of one,
for another.

so very large,
is the love,
in my heart.
as i look back,
across the years.

to the people,
who have touched
my being
and shared my fears.

all those days,
spent in a haze of  
laughter, life
and  tears.

all those friends,
found and lost in,
so many, different ways.

you all,
had a part in
shaping these,
my betterdays

it is only now as i write
these words.
i think how,
magnanimous,
you were, to care at all..

each and every one,
could have passed me by....
found a better friend,
merely said,
hello and goodbye.

but i am so,
utterly blessed.
that,
your heart,
saw my heart.

and we gave,
each other a chance,
to grow and fly.

some, just for a season,
some, forevermore.
all, sown into my being
all part of my very core.

and yet, there is still
time and space for more....

these are the questions
i ponder on a friday afternoon
after a few mango beers

do slugs get to volunteer to be snails or vice versa?

do you think, tadpoles grieve for their tails?

are the black and white
goldfish, aware of the colour
of their skin?

do polar bears, in captivity,
miss the ice fishing?

do lions get jealous, of how
cushy housecats get it?

why does nobody ever ask,
does my head look to big in this book?

yep..... i know ....deep

we will .....go.... to the woods
...soon... up on
..the mountains fringe...
that is ....where.... nature....
has placed.... it's great ..............demarcation line......
                                  where ...........the rat race ...ceases.......
          ...to exsist.....
                                   where......
the quiet just.... eases ..into your soul...

and ......
              your soul changes

first.... with momentary bliss
as.......you turn off.......
.... the technology
but... then you.... want....
                more
and... so you.... slow your step ... ....watch the wind.... in the trees
the birds.... over head,
...lizards ...in ...the leaf litter..
...undergrowth                                  a lady beetle ...bright jewel ...on your coatsleeve....
                       .......and that is when
..you sigh....
.......and truly let it go...
let it all drop... let it all behind
and.....
              i see my love
                          ........the world
.....roll off your shoulders
here ....in the woods...
....among the trees...