Lightest of breeze, Sea in the air
Sounds of children playing down there
Green on the shingle, Cabbage White
Occasional bird in lazy flight
Blue of the sky, blue of the sea
White wispy clouds, soft buzzing bee
Shimmering distantly Worthing pier
Sometimes hazy, sometimes clear
Moored on horizon, fishing boats
Whilst nearer in shore swimmers float
Out to the east is Brighton’s sprawl
High in the air a seagull’s call
Perfect now the weather’s fine
Lancing Beach in summertime
Show me a colour, one that describes me
Look at my face – the colour behind my eyes
It cries for the sun and pines away on these rainy days
Curled in a ball and shivering,
It longs for a blue that paints the skies
I have a paintbox here somewhere; it has a bright palette
One I have used many times, mixing over and over
as old and dusty colours
lend their way to young ones bright and new
Blending easily with the marks I have made
I watched the sea, it did me proud
I smiled at it and laughed out loud
The waves they roared, I roared right back
As I wasn’t having any of that
Alone on the stone with sun and spray
On a fine and perfect Springtime day
On the shoreline with the crashing sounds
That filled the air and shook the ground
I shouted loud, could not be heard
Save by a high fly seagull bird
Green and blue the waters came
Crashed and turned and crashed again
Alone I stood and marvelled still
At those impressive seascape hills
In the sand we saw footprints that led to the sun
and we followed them true for a while
but then a distraction called from one side
so we scurried away with a smile
But the smile of distraction soon turned to a frown
and could never hold us for long
as we realised its shallow deception
and grew tired of its welcoming song
Two springtime trees, unfettered
she moves there with the breeze
through branches stretched, awakening
with budded fresh green leaves
She embraces for a sweet caress
touching all she sees
her warming breath of soft sunshine
from winter's pale white knees
She rises to that warm embrace
as tears are swiftly freed
replaced with Springtime's cheery smile
as with new life she breathes
The winter’s shadowy clouds have past
And Summer’s child is here
To warm the cockles of our hearts
And fill our eyes with cheer
Summer’s child is pure and free
Her breath is fresh and new
Her hands give life to grass and tree
Beginning summer true
When you write something
of which you are proud
and brings you a smile
and makes you shout loud
'Cos you know that the words
which have come from your heart
are worthy to share
and to others impart?
Dog walkers walking with plenty of dogs
some running free some on leads
the river meandering down to the sea
with ducks hiding there in the reeds
A grey sky above but the chill is now gone
and there's no wind at all here today
There's even a hint of blue through the cloud
out there in the spread of the bay
Darkened the tunnel beckoned
as sunlight filtered through
so gingerly I ventured
to the sylvan place I knew
The sound of trickled water
from the river down below
brought comfort to my quickened step
with beauty there on show
I am the first thought
flowing to paper as the
poet sees the yellow
of a morning sky outside
I am the first breath
as a night of slumber ends
and rejuvenation leaps
to inspiration for the new
Caught a glimpse of yellow
through the kitchen door
whipped the iPhone quickly out
to capture what I saw
First forsythia growing
heralding the Spring
make me feel quite happy
caused my heart to sing
Wrapping arms tightly around
the grey cloud in the sky
the sunshine warmly smiled
saying 'no more need to cry'
'You're done today, your tears have fed
the world down there below
but now it's time to rest
and let my smiles now gently glow'
Whose nose is this? I thought as I passed
close by to the hole in the gate
it looked lovely and the sounds from within
were those to appreciate
For all the brown heifers were gathered in there
lounging about in the straw
save for the one with her nose poking through
at Middle Farm here to adore
If you're reading this now
on the day it appears
on line on the web
you will be in arrears
For most of the work
that I publish each day
comes from the past
in a meaningful way
When you're under the weather and feeling quite ill
and you're not at all sure if you're quite yourself still
and everything aches and all energy's gone
and you can't string two words together for long
You know that it's time to stay warm in bed
and let sleep the good healer do its stuff instead
as though at present it's naff and you're not feeling clever
you know you'll get better and this won't last forever
Found a field of snowdrops
along the Pilgrim Trail
it was a wonder to hehold
and latterly regale
So much so that we all paused
to take pictures for a while
as this little slice of heaven
was a thing to bring a smile
We walked from Berwick Station
hardy throng against the wind
forging through the countryside
no need here for chagrin
For this was long awaited
a walk for birthday treat
in a February Sussex
with the snowdrops looking sweet
A few miles along the Pilgrim Path
to Charleston House near Firle
with smiles of cheer on all our minds
and on our lips a curl
Brighton pier was glowing blue
as the waves fell to the shore
as we all six up on the prom
watched it and asked for more
And that we got in spades
as we always do right here
in Brighton on the Sussex coast
beside its famous pier
Even precipitation didn't
much get in the way
as the beauty was so evident
at the evening of this day
There's a sunset coming though a ways off yet
I can see the glow to the West
as the evening time approaches now
a bid at my behest
It's yellow, pink and pastel
and full of warming glow
foretelling of a different time
that all too soon I'll know
Little short poems here by the day
doing their bit to keep blues away
from the mind of a poet with something to say
as he has done of these years
A pen that rarely stays still despite all
of the circumstances that will daily befall
and come to the fore with a hark and a a call
as they have done all of these years
It's been said that the darkness
with the moon in the sky
speaks of the night time
though morning is nigh
Not that you'd know for
there's no light in sight
not even an inkling
in the blackness of night
Yet what is that glow
in the east very feint?
Yes, that is the the day
though at present it ain't!
Today it is the sixtieth
that we have seen so far
in twenty twenty-three
now March is here on par
Equal that is to Springtime
in meteorological term
the first day that it happens
you will be pleased to learn
For we are done with winter
warmth is now what we all need
to brush away the cobwebs
and bring new life with speed
Yes I know it's a bit shorter
but the slip-sliding away
this year is quite amazing
as it's February's last day
Now March is nigh upon us
and the winter's almost done
so I suspect in thirty more
we'll know the spring has come
So though another month
has left us now this year
I'm not that disappointed
as the warmer days are near
Don't get the wrong impression
my colleagues, reading this
as I'm not one for fudgel
as for me my work is bliss
But on occasion there are times
especially of late
when a fudgel is more common
in attempts to graciate
As with retirement looming
ever closer now these days
I find myself succumbing to
a new relaxing phase
Poet's Corner 