Above The Clouds

(wrote back in March, which now seems an age ago)

The reluctant tears of morning dew 

hang from foliage of vivid green.

A global pandemic is mentioned. 

Ears barely prick 

Minds drift like snow: 

Mmm what's for tea?

The dew becomes gas and floats 

Ribbons of wispy white melt into the blue high above.


Feet burn upon newly laid decking under an early summer sun.

Furlough brings time for odd jobs from dust-laden note paper, 

and the rekindling of doorstep walks long since forgotten 

A subtle breeze wafts the aroma of barbecued meats, and dissipates lager burps across gardens once seldom used.

Death toll 30000

The sky turns ashen, laden with tears 

They fall

Charcoal embers float in the deluge

Dregs, in fallen beer bottles, sway

Hugs     become a treasure


Above the clouds the constant stars sprinkle night with gold

The moon - old fat face himself - regards us with the wisdom of age, and waits, patiently, 

for the awakening.



◄ Seven Little Girls...

Bed Of Bones ►


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Stephen Atkinson

Sat 10th Oct 2020 19:20

Thanks Nicola! Much appreciated

Nicola Beckett

Sat 10th Oct 2020 12:39

Beautiful words x

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Stephen Atkinson

Sat 10th Oct 2020 11:45

Thanks again Keith, & I'll try my best!
And thanks for the Likes!

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keith jeffries

Sat 10th Oct 2020 08:38


this is the first time I have come across your work. I am drawn to to it. More please.


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Stephen Atkinson

Thu 8th Oct 2020 17:46

Cheers Paul. Thanks for the confidence boosting Like & comment!

And, Julie, it's more like a wake than an awakening at the moment I think! Thanks ☺️

julie callaghan

Thu 8th Oct 2020 13:14

Who would have thought we would still be waiting for the awakening.

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Paul Sayer

Thu 8th Oct 2020 12:58

Starstruck mate, just startstruck.

Keep um coming.


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