All innocent
I crossed the fortune teller's palm
with coins - and notes

She looked in her glass
- Crystal she called it -
and in her lilting tones

Forecast a syzygy of planets
which would bring me
all I desired

If it happened

Assignment-'Write a sonnet'
I did look up the definition ...

Over the doorways
new cameras are watching
I wave as I pass

The deer walk through
Leaving behind
Tulips
*****
Headless

The Technological Revolution
means
Everyone
Always
One step behind mastery

Wherever I go
he's there with his walking frame
smiling cheerfully

Climb any mountain
Enjoy the space
the fair views
in every direction

Wait a while
savour the pleasure
You've started a trend
Everyone wants to do it

Good voice
but I'd like
to have heard some words

Friends took me to the superstore
of clothing jewelry and more
and said "Look 'round and take your pick"
I said: "You'll think me very thick
but how can I decide to buy
when racks of clothes urge me to try?
There's too much choice, I'm overcome
Decision made- Please take me home"

Hail hits hardest
when not anticipated
and head is hatless

The man using Charlie's transporter
had a beautiful languorous daughter.
She said 'Give me a lift'
He said 'Not on my shift -
I know you - you'll fall in the water'

Little striped buzzers
keep interrupting
when I'm trying
to concentrate

Hello! You alright?
Yes thanks, yourself?
Fine
Cheerio
Move on

Pictures gone
Slabs
Of uncoordinated colour
Leap out at me

I haven't
a particle of poetry
in me
Nothing rhymes

I plan to do so much
and accomplish so little

A poetry guru named Sean
Said 'Limericks just make me yawn.
The rhyming is flat,
the meter's old hat,
free verse is my thing, not old corn.'

Box Lids
belong on boxes
On walls
they look
undressed

A gray squirrel
appeared in my garden
uninvited
destructive
reported

Anything?
What do you mean
by anything?
Literally, any thing?

Heavy rain
lets you know
which of your shoes
leak

Torn jeans
and box - top paintings
mock poverty's needs
and aspirations

The poetry group
tried it this morning
without much success

Wrestling with words
Forgot water heater
Late rising
Late everything

It's possible to make poems
about almost anything
but like most things in life
there's more to it than that
What is a rhyme?
Do all poems need them?
Must I obey rules and formulas
and stick to a code?
What about stanzas, syllables,
punctuation, presentation?
Can the number of lines
accord with the inspiration
or must there be dogmas
to govern its expression?
If I take it too seriously
I lose all impulsion
and the words which should sing
lie flat on the floor

"How long
have these bollards
been here?"
"About twenty years"

Camellias, Forsythia and Daffodils
flowering
Dandelions in bud
Squirrels chasing

Seated, crossed legs forming triangles
your breath coming gently, evenly
feeling comfortable in your skin
you ponder strange mystical words

Space
Comfort
Cheerful atmosphere
Beautiful surroundings
assist peace of mind

February fourteenth
means something to some
but not to all

Don't let the worry
of giving and preparing
wipe out the wonder

To the untrained eye
most modern art -
'modern'  meaning anything
this century or less -
though luminously painted
remains mysterious
and at times a shock,
a shock so great
as to render one speechless,
minus even a syllable,
on the gallery's contents

Though a friend of mine
a respected artist
was heard to say
as she left the exhibition
"scrambled egg, scrambled egg"

Snow
source of so much poetry
cancels
poetry group meeting

The stump of the tree
cut down by thieves trespassing
glows pain day and night

officially true
not your imagination
the sky is more blue

What is a change?
An alteration
longed-for or loathed
mental or physical
swift or subtle
demanding or gentle

and some changes
make things better

Op Shop
Charity shop
Best stop
for Lost And Found

The Roofer
tapped a slate
tenderly
looked up
said "Hi"

Herdwicks
look at you kindly
Knowing
you can't help it

Sun comes out
It's hot
Sun goes in
It's not

Rain sheeting
as forecaster says
"Showers over Cumbria have cleared"

Travel company cancelled
Good!
I can choose a new holiday

"The length of a lyric"
the writer explained
over a cup
of what looked like tea
"depends on eroding
a concept held dearly
down to its heartwood
to let it sing free"

A Pleasant Contagion
The light in the eyes
of one who feels loved
affects all who meet them
they do not know why

I sit listening
looking through the scaffolding
hearing builders' din

The workman came,
said what he would do
and vanished

Who could invent more
than spring has already
begun to display?
what poetic lens
could improve on
her wild, yet gentle,
detailed unwrapping
of colours, flowers,
leaves, textures
revealing, unfolding,
teasing, rewarding,
nodding and dancing,
joyfully singing
her perpetual
ever-new refrain?

At Epiphany each year
I think of the Magi
who foolishly doubted
a star's inspired leading
and went to Jerusalem
to enquire of a king.

A king who was noted
for disposing of claimants
to the crown that he guarded
as if held by glue.

In an instant the destiny
of scores of young children
was wiped out forever
by this one mistake.

Had they read Micah's prophecy
of the birth of a Saviour
they would have reached the stable
as lovers to a tryst

and the Bethlehem children
would have lived life as normal.
The carpenter of Nazareth
would still be the Saviour
and the blackbird have sung
over cradles, not graves.

Wild raspberries
Glow richly red
in the hedgerow
Taste wonderful