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Sunday

The pomegranates
are ripe on the tree
across the road
and the swallows
are skimming beneath the power lines
and the soft blue sky
The washing on the balcony rail is dry
The village dogs bark
Church bells summon summer in
and the early morning peace
is broken as a tractor heads for the fields
The sun heats the soft grey
feathers on the pigeon’s back
and he leaves his chimney perch
abo...

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countrysideFlogitaGreeceSundayvillagevillage life

Forvie, March 2017

entry picture

Dunes...

And then the sand flowed like the tide

Shifting the land at the wave edge of the sea

A vast striated plane of drifting whirling grains:

Aged dunes lost to the wail will of the wind.

As we walked close by the sea suck and ripple

The bound beach rose and swallowed our grounded feet

We seemed to be free floating sand cloud high

In the sandsmoke drifts rushing to their...

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beachchapelcoastdunesfishermenForvieSandSand stormScotlandseavillage

Chinese Village - 1960

Thin rags stuffed with straw we wore

in that terrible winter of 1960

Grass tying it around our bony bodies

Neighbours shuffled through the village

fell dead as dolls asleep  in the street

Doll-like remained unburied in the cold

 

Silence frozen on the careless air

The last ox eaten as it died

Fowls and ducks taken by The Party

no grain being left to pay the tax

No ...

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ChinaMaostarvationunburiedvillage

SOUTHERN SONG

 

SOUTHERN SONG

 

I’m one of the boys; I’m one of them who lives in my southern English town of Witches’ Elbow.

We just love it in our quaint little town by the sea, we chill out on the beach on the long summer nights, drinking warm beer and making love on the sand dunes knowing these moments will last forever.

I’m originally from the north and moved to Witches’ Elbow coz I ...

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jobjourneyladslifemovingnorth to southseastoryvillage

The Village

entry picture

It has lost its spark,

Its draw and lure

Like the one night stand from a lusty bed.

No longer a moth to the pink booze-fuelled flame.

The vacuous occupants of hot and heavy bars,

Attract me less and less.

Distant are the memories of the great night out,

The random in that bar, the flirt and the pull in the other.

 

They all seem so young and insignificant now

...

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