First X

10 of 12 in the Jemverse series ’12 months III’

The sixth month of the year arrives
here with the first of June
Summer smiles a welcome
singing here a happy tune
Sun shines down from clear blue skies
a little dance seems right
expression of the sentiment
we have with this in sight

Time passing

So the sun sets on the month of May
and June is almost here
already we have seen pass by
not far off half a year
Unsure where that time has gone
it’s happened quite so fast
and life has changed dramatically
and looks quite set to last

Everything to me

Looking through to Shoreham
‘cross the river from the beach
reminds me of the fortune
I have here in easy reach
Equidistant from the downs
to the beauty of the sea
this little town where here I live
is everything to me

Magical II

Night time in our garden
just as lovely as the day
it really is quite magical
and charming I would say
And yes I may be biased
but when a things needs to be said
I think it’s best to get it out
than keep it in my head

Big II

The driftwood on the beach tonight
was big and long and tall
and though I would’ve if I could’ve
I can only take stuff small
But I still took several pictures
at marvelled at the fact
that it was wedged there in the rocks
placed by the sea intact

Best Ever

I found a hagstone on the beach
it was the best I’ve found
amongst the other pebbles there
just waiting on the ground

It’s flat and Barbara Hepworth-like
a tactile thing to touch
and it will now take pride of place
amongst those I love so much

Patterns in the sand

Patterns in the sand
left there by the sea
sculpted by the longshore drift
so perfect and free

Sometimes with a pebble
or the flow of water there
but always with charming
of which I’m aware

This canvas is fleeting
but I will oft confide
whilst its there for a viewing
at the turn of the tide

Longshadow three

Three shadows cast
by a streetlight behind
long to the seashore
waiting to find
what there lay in store
with mystery held
longshadow casting
completely compelled
But soon there revealed
with the lap of the sea
as twilight it faded
on longshadow three

Supermoon rising

On the beach just last evening
with Obi and Sal
we walked on the shingle and saw
with a glow in the east
a visual feast
as a supermoon rose for encore

Of sunsets and supermoons

I found a freedom at sunset today
went out for a ride on my bike
Not many cars on the roads still of course
so I could go wherever I liked

Evening of the day

Tonight I found a sunset
as the river trickled slow
and the deeper blue of night arrived
above the golden glow

It was peaceful there and quiet
not another soul around
so I revelled in the moment
of that special place I’d found

Too soon?

It’s been nine weeks but now there’s talk
of lifting the restriction
Not sure how I feel ’bout that
given my conviction
that back when all this started
we were in for the long haul
and resolute I stayed inside
til we overcame it all

Beautiful words

The beauty of words
Ones so full of meaning
To capture the essence
Of life so endearing
The palette of poets
To paint and to capture
And bring to the reader
The joy to enrapture

Ivy Gone

Had a conversation with my neighbour
As he chopped the ivy down
Been wondering how to tackle that
Each day now with a frown

But he provided the solution
Hacked it down from other side
Including all the overgrowth
From our shed roof I spied

Never Contrite

The problem with writing
So far in advance
Is the tine to catch up
Or not with a chance

And the capture of moments
Which by the time that they see
The cold light of day
Is a vague memory

But it’s a very small problem
To have so I’ll cope
And keep publishing them here
Knowing well that you’ll cope

Serendipity

I found myself writing
About somewhere I’d been
And all of the wonderful
Things there I’d seen
The joy and the richness
Of life beyond measure
Captured and held just
Like having treasure

Tactile

I’m not sure where it came from
but the book that I have now
The one I write ideas in
gives lots of joy somehow
It’s a bit about the binding
and the tactile feel it brings
with the strip of leather used to tie
pages and other things

Hope II

When all is changed
and ripped and torn
and something else
becomes the norm
When all we held
is dead and gone
and what we saw
is put upon
When all this differs
round us now
and life we know
is passed somehow
There still is hope
that does not change
despite the things
we rearrange

Thankful

I’m thankful for sunshine
and thankful for Spring
thankful for nature
with reason to sing
I’m thankful for music
and thankful for song
thankful for rhythm
to keep my soul strong

Bee

A bumble bee came buzzing
in my garden for a while
he buzzed around the laurel tree
and paused to bring a smile

The constant sea

These wanders here each evening
when the night’s about to fall
are I think the moments
which we will most recall
When this madness is all over
and we find ourselves again
with whatever becomes normal
and whatever still remains

Sunshine V

Until the last rays of sunshine pass
I’ll find a spot in the sun
and sit and enjoy and soak it all up
until the daytime is done

For that is my lot, my substance, my all
my reason for being I’d say
and what better thing would one do in the sun
than sit out in it during the day

Little tree gone

We had a tree growing
out of the front wall
which I’m sorry to say had to go
For though it was fine
its roots had entwined
and had threatened the wall, don’t you know

Poem and Prose II

Today with momentum
finding pattern and form
my page bore a colour
which for me is the norm

It was yellow and vibrant
the colour of Spring
mixing there with my words
and waiting to sing

First IX

9 of 12 in the Jemverse series ’12 months III’

On our wall there hangs a Hockney
A print we hold so dear
as with its vibrant colour
always brings us lots of cheer

And as Hockney loves a hawthorn
it seemed appropriate to say
that the colour in the hedgerows now
is the one that is of May

Lockdown writing III

Late into the night
when sleep does not come
my mind wanders freely
until it is done
Gives me the words
that I pluck from the air
and fashion to paper
with rhythm and flair

Where I can be free

My feet in the water
in Wellington boots
down on the sea shore
from whence come my roots
The soft wavelets lapping
as the light fades away
and we come here walking
at the end of the day

With a smile

When night falls in our garden
it seems now as if to us
something magical happens
just like that without fuss

For with the day’s fading
little lights of colour come
transforming there our haven
until the night time’s done