Tale of a Bird

Up I fly
above the clouds,
but the clouds fly
above me too…

Off I go,
yet I don’t,
that’s the beauty
of an edge-less home!

Facelift

It’s been asking for one for many a year
as it was starting to look a bit sad
So we finally decided to do the right thing
and start a facelift, you will be glad

It’s been the same colour since back in the eighties
and the pebbledash got a bit thin
And the leak from the gutter above the front door
was not a good state to be in

The Best Waiting Place

On many warm afternoons,

I would sit at a neighbor’s front yard,

Alone on a wooden bench,

that had a shine from excessive use.

New Sofa

We have a new sofa
it’s lovely and green
And it is the best sofa
that we’ve ever seen

Dappled

Last night the moon shone bright within
a sea of dappled grey
As speckled night clouds gathered
at the end of a hot day

Family (diamante)

Family
Children everywhere
Laughing, playing, working
Never a dull moment
Home

Lord, Here Am I

Lord, here am I to labor unrewarded,
To serve unpaid, unloved, unsought, unknown,
Unknown, unloved by all but my dear children,

HOME

By Charles Robert Lindholm

it started out so wonderful
and ended up as home
no bricks, no wood, no mortar
no insulating foam

Education Begins at Home

Two mothers stood at the cashier line
And chattered on just to pass the time.
They each thought the other a paradigm,
With children ages three, six and nine.

A Living Fossil

You are the visceral imprint,

The perennial impression,

Something deep inside of me,

A poignant and recurring melody.

A song I’ve always known,

The centerpiece, the cornerstone,

Seagulls passing

Sitting in the sunshine
by the river at high tide
A seagull came and perched
on the railings by my side
We had a little chat
as it seemed the thing to do
Passing a few pleasantries
before away he flew

At Your Side

FreeImages.com/Steve Knight

The whistle screams the hour for you to go.
There’s one last word to whisper, here, to you.
Your tears well up in eyes so sad and low.
My leaden heart stops, short, my every move.
I breathe a shiv’ry breath and take your hand,

Home III

It’s always with some pleasure
when I have been away
Getting closer to my home
at the end of a long day

When Darkness Falls

Darkness has settled in

Surrounds me

The cold outside our four snug walls

Frosts our windows

Turns snow into a hard, white crust

The day has been long my love

I have been doing battle with the world today

I have been doing battle with myself

Seaside

On the wall is a sign
that points to Seaside
It points the right way
and we’ve nothing to hide
For just ten minutes walk
takes us down to the shore
It’s a privilege yes, and
we’d not ask for more

Had a week off

Had a week off
didn’t do very much
just listened to music
and reading and such

Tidied a bit
sorted some stuff
and to be perfectly honest
that was enough

Home in the warm

The air was so brittle
it brought a chill to the bone
So I wasn’t out long
before heading for home
Much better instead to
curl up with a book
with just the occasional
glance up for a look

Sunday afternoons…

Sunday afternoons
A walk, a rest, a cup of tea
This insouciance

The seagull’s cry

The seagulls’ cry
synonymous
of living by the sea

Let This Poem Remember Me

Let this room remember me. Let it fill with my scent.

The scent of valerian root, chardonnay, the air of musk and smoke,
damp moss upon the old tombstone, the wet sapling pine.

The late evening sun is the day’s last attempt to sway me.
She spills her warmest rays over the peacock rug, subjugates herself and genuflects
over the altars, over my desk and kitchen countertop.

Tranquility here

The spider had babies
so I re-potted those
Then sat in the sunshine
for some thoughtful repose

As above, so below

As above, so here below
blue sky and deep blue sea
The gently turning silent waves
creep up to welcome me

Splashing

Tidal waters splashing
at the waters’ edge
on the old breakwater
such a privilege

Like a dream

There’s a hill above Shoreham
where you can see the sea
shining silver and bright in the sun
A reminder indeed
of the coast where we live
work and play hard and have fun

A new home

His family had lived
in the same place for years
Safe from harm’s way
with no worries or fears
Foraging for food
in the gardens around
Then up to the homestead
up high above ground

Driving Home

 

Driving Home

 

 

The road is bejewelled with the lights of traffic

Red ribbon, white ribbon, snaking over the hills

Dark fields lie beside us as we wend our way

The villages we bypass shine stray lights to our eyes

Compliments of the season

 

Winter’s warming finally here
with cinnamon and sage
a promise to fruition
comes swiftly to assuage
Laughter’s distant echo
growing louder all the time
to compliment the season
in its presence here, sublime

River of gold

 

Gold upon the river today
glistening on water below
as it moves towards the ocean
on its daily tidal flow

There is magic here and wonder
together with a sense of awe
almost like the first time
this morning scene I saw