Walking to the station lost in thoughts.
A useless collection of ideas and emotions swirl around me,
and I gradually tune out even those.
Leaving a vague existence between aware and asleep.
Time and life drift by and it’s a comfortable place.
Arriving at a destination without knowing anything of the time in-between.
That time. Gone.
Tuesday 22nd February 2022 8:06 am
I've been up a forest of gum trees
Got cornered in many a spot
Up the creek is a formality for me
Some of us simply preferred it hot
Often I swam far out of my depth
Within an inch of deep water
At times had my back against the wall
Loved much but never had son or daughter
Trouble is the thing I was made for
Dire straits always seemed too tame
I loved facin...
Monday 15th June 2020 1:45 pm
And so it begins. Or ends
The seasons change and as
September dies lies forgotten
Like Summer, Autumn October
Rears. Not misty mellow fruitfullness
With rusty leaf colour bright splashing
Hedgerow and tree russet yellow brown,
Mists that turn to rain and wind and heavy
Rain splashing in the track ruts and puddles
Around the farm; every field soggy with all the...
Sunday 13th October 2019 3:08 pm
Before I go
Let me drink this rich wine
Let me sing my delight
This gold red dawn has promise:
vibrant with the cold sun
vanishing valley mists
leave damp spider web to shimmer
mistdrops on the long reeds
and ungathered lawn leaves
against the muted green of wet grass.
This amber morning has perfection:
wonderfully wooded leaf tints
Monday 22nd October 2018 3:01 pm
to golden leaves of beech
from my bed
as airdew clouds over the hedge
rise and vanish
as the eastern horizon above the valley
is lost, sunk
beneath dawndrifts of mist
not yet warmed to fade
beneath the clear blue sky;
the uncut grass of the dew-wet lawn,
cool promise as
the cusp of the...
Friday 28th September 2018 7:56 pm
There's mist on the Menai
There's geese in the sky
There's snow on the Mountains
As the mist rolls on by
It runs from the Swellies
To the Irish Sea
The mist on the Menai
Majestic and free
From the banks of the Briant
To Caernarfon's great ramparts
To the edge of the Llyn
Hear the Waders and Redstarts
There's mist on the Menai
Not a cloud in the sky
Monday 8th June 2015 3:57 pm
Water, smooth as a mirror, shiny as death.
I am the lake, the lake is me.
Are you the mist hovering over
my haunted vision and fractured mind?
Lost am I but bemused by your fragile beauty.
Your cold breath on my face telling me I am alive.
Mist taking me away, quick call my Mother. I’m about to drown.
Moon above, face of my unknown lover....
Wednesday 9th May 2012 5:50 pm
Out walking to where three valleys meet, past Dovestones, on a drizzly day. ...
Thursday 24th November 2011 1:00 pm