Monthly Archives: January 2015

. skin .

there are bits of us everywhere,

shed as we move, as we live.

most of it held together with skin.

no way to clear the debris daily,

it remains .boil the hankies then,

do your best to keep it neat and tidy.

spend the day in the warm, with plenty

to do, keep cheerful.

maybe watch the national theatre of brent.





comes easy if you practice,

if you gather leaves, drive the roads


flatten paper, hope it tears

slightly, obtain a drifting

look with tissue.

white on white always

works to give a ghostly effect.

it may be you just use envelopes.

yet some find that packets with

string are more romantic.

always thought i was, yet do

not join into one, i remain separate.

is that an awful thing?



the ride to york

is history. isn’t history fascinating ?

now with google, wikipedia it is all there

for the taking. books from the library

can be heavy, yet

free and cosy to read in bed.

this is a rabbit gift, given on an anniversary,

reading. the book is wuthering heights, one version.

on dvd, there are several versions.

a classic story, yet not history.




is there some thing in your eye,

did you see it properly or maybe

it is in the mind. yesterday

came suddenly.

some of us weren’t talking, then

we did, yet some still don’t.

is this boring? this is

the stuff of life today, random,

when life is soft, nothing precious

to worry of.

and now the snowdrops are out in the garden.



the code

in the cold, frozen, the code will not work,

nor will the counting with interuptions, all

things moved about.

there is a discount, on top the discount, so

a discussion ensued on buttons,

roman costumes, whether egyptians

used starch back then.

my mother did, mixed it, dissolved

the lumps in a bowl ready. stiffened the chairbacks

pinned them in place tidy.

we hoped it was not a plastic sheet that covered

the bed shining, glad to see it

was mostly sateen.



spending spree

it is a new store,the chapel architecture

restored. i remember the day they cleaned

the stone, noisy. i was opposite with cofffee,

trying to chat. he did not seem to notice

the interruption.

they have candles, subtle shades, non drip,

yet have sold out of ragged ribbon,

a big disappointment.

i commented on the perfume downstairs, told

it was new furniture and cleaning, that is all.

checking ebay later found reams of the distressed cotton

tape i had wanted, had a minor spending spree

at seven pounds fifty.




went yesterday, there were floods by the cob,

seems the sheep were safe. quiet in the stores,

people still stuiffed, including me, aren’t

we lucky, fortunate in our lot. saw the lad from

the theatre, had a hug.

the next store, just round the corner

sparrows outside bathing in puddles.

bought our sticks, some ribbon of course


another installation?

I like hopping, it is a gift.

family language.



moving the pictures

after twenty years, the backs need dusting,

the new one to be hung.

it is a little drawing, done with conentration

and love.

we drive the valley, a new venue,

visit the pictures, there is no reduction

for being old, so we choose the best seats.

new years day.



the date

what can i say, except happy.

mine started after the solstice really,

it seemed to make more sense, yet

i will go along with the rest today, say happy.

we should say happy everyday.

i think it is a thread that runs level,

while the bad and joyous stuff, is

another, you know like those

graphs we did at school.

anyway, enough of the philosophy,

whille wind blows clear


happy new year.