Pilgrim’s Progress

Found a copy of the ‘Progress’
it was just three ninety-nine
from the Oxfam shop in Worthing
thought, ‘I’d like that to be mine’

So I gave the lady waiting
the price there on the back
and took the volume home with me
to place on my bookrack

My Chair

There’s a place in my house where I sit
and, if I chose to lose myself I can
Be it with reading or writing
or music or game
Sometimes Obi joins me
as it is for him safe haven
when there is something loud downstairs
My little brown comfort blanket
snuggled up and sleeping
in my chair beside me

Advertisement

Books

buckets brimless, bumble
brains bookless, babble
baked boneless, beliefs borne
bare bones, blessed books bind

LOSE OR GAIN

“Love is the way messengers

from the mystery tell us things.

 

Love is the mother

we are her children.

 

She shines inside us,

visible-invisible, as we trust

or lose trust, or feel it start to grow again.”

-RUMI

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

The Single Sound

.

As evening shadows fade

And candles glimmer in Delicate glows,

Reflecting across Your skin,

Conveyance

.

Portal of Temptation and Guise,

Ruse of Splendid Intrepidity,

Conveyance into the Unknown Beyond,

Step Beyond

.

Step Beyond the Real

Story

Softly spoken Story

Shouting Loud upon the Breeze,

Whispering Imagination

Prompting Pages

Pages

Prompting

Pleasure

3Rs

I want to read

with you,

write with you,

find out how much

-21.10.14_08:27-

Escape
Into a story,
My refuge
From reality,
When you’re not
With me

-10.02.14_16:52-

Fantasy invades
Reality
One step at a time,
Until we become
The monsters within,
Terrorizing
Those, whom we
Love

The Untouched Book

Lying alone at the table corner
Missing my pleasant touch
Thinking deep about the real loner
Me, yearning long to read much

Layered pages of my unread book
Dozing on the wistful table
Ages gone since I gave a look
Untouched as a saint noble

The Beauty of Words

Our pleasure is reading words

We create narratives from words

Our joy is reading the comments

We forge alliances thru’ our verses.

Reading Habit: Monorhyme

Danger of knowledge ebbing away

Creative spirits on the deathbed today

Eaten raw as an idiot box’s prey

My Love

Holding him makes me alive

To heaven high up

he puts my inside

Between his hands

I live thousand lives

Even his torture

soothes my life