tangled affair
too many people talking at once

it is a messy affair
paint smudges and runs

eventually all comes clear
one having the final say

predictions come and go

tide comes up,

it will pool, deep and dark,

still, inviting.

deep waters to sooth pain,

that comes as the tide

now and then.

most mornings early before you were up or about we crept there with thoughts

to make little things of words, tiny secrets, never written out fully for that won’t do

one morning something crept sideways and we came out to look and what surrounded us

read the words and worried a week

then sadly we crept away….

was cool there,
we learned about protection,
quiet spaces.

there is an hierarchy, yet
some words remain faultless.

some need to be remembered

numbers came suddenly soon after one.

the event that left one bereft

left and

then worked upon with thought and patience

may in time become something

something

useful

slight insertion of trees
with green
then the area comes more profound

the air cleaner

satisfactory arrangement
on the surface

as we know there is much below

painting everything white.

geese flew over.

the day moved slowly, and i find

the memories are not as you may think.

i have new ones.

the fall is abrupt and possibly dramatic

related to weight & gravity

like a

black ink line ruled sharply down

ending with an abrupt grand splatter

it has beautiful spots james

while i like any pattern that includes spots
and any embellishment that is bows you
know

yet
i don’t know why
only as i say that
i think i may do

i guess that is a story for another morning
james

though notice we don’t
discuss that so much

i could and
tell you of the plans and preparation
the ordering and menus here

but i don’t do i?

they talk about the news

current affairs

and i wonder if it is their anger

that keeps them going james

while i drink tea and look at birds

daily

the coffee affair with pods and seasons is recordable
into a small book, a journal of morning feelings while


i use a spoon for instant gratification . the modern
is much improved on the old ways

your words on coffee rattle my buds while drinking tea. mine later

today brings a dryer aspect, it rained most of yesterday that light refreshing stuff

comes a differing hue

with duck egg blue


the ironmongers in town

at one seventy nine


we can walk there and back or there

and bus back you see


he said folk get used to anything

i find this true to a point when all is comfy


was used to the other colour once

some was in code.

the numbers were senseless.

whatever was wrong yesterday is gone today, yet there is still that buzzing in the ears.

stains the cup if left standing,

remember the hotel, 1964,

we used to scour them especially

round the handle, then the base.

sat at the stones

by the water

the white one cracked open and I shall keep it as memory

of

how we prepare for fall

it came shiny
lovely at 45 degree angle

oh no
he said
this is the wrong one

decline

to say no, or even to fail softly with a sloping line

tapering off into dots repeated

the fall is abrupt and possibly dramatic

wind blows round our houses,
here.


wide walls hold  back, draughts
fan the fire. clean welcome air.wind blows the sea into town

is noted that a conversation started on the original comment

with thoughts such as mine which is interesting

yet the first remark darted

and as you may know that we have come to know ourselves better since the isolation so have hidden

comment that there was a wish for more participants which comes ironic

for now there is one less

while the day was imbolc

so we walked the country paths

noted new green growth and those with country habits

i go rake wet leaves

all kicked off yesterday

late afternoon and i shall remember

it well, for i wrote it in the diary which sits on the kitchen table open

a habit started in lockdown as keeping things entirely to oneself is usual yet conflicting with the need to identify happenings

the kitchen is quite dark without the light on as is slightly below ground, the graveyard behind

used to leave a lamp on yet with energy prices hike, now follow her lead and wait until entry

so yesterday it all kicked off at halls and with my upbringing being blamed knew this will be all be my fault too

i wrote it in the diary with an asterisk

oil pond mirrors the darkness the november

day                  sun draws white against the grey

this       leaf  lays on earth

you may already have the things you need.

just look.

it may be that it is
small
neat and shiny.

wash the cloth to prove a point.*

it is a fragile thing, hesitant in the making. never

complete, it hangs by a thread.

maybe you will still stay inside a while

within the boundary lines



four fields

where it was decided to buy the higher house
in both scenarios

with grit and slight gusto

things come in layers
and differing shades

along the edge, the edge
of season. the coast with
slow limits.

the glass anomaly
swept the edges
golden, in proportion.

gently go forward, then gently back
recreating past deeds and misdemenours
you thought forgotten.

gently go forward knowing we are mostly
all the same, with motes not spoken of,
except disorder.

gently it passed behind you

the colour comes later, in the studio.
the land reclaimed, is bolder now,
energy splashes.


colour comes, from friends in conversation,
music and sounds, and i eat them
with hunger.

feels as if. the thing i was doing

has overtaken me.   wealth  has no

agenda,                nor have  capitals.

rules come away. a differing

place,  turning in the year.

it came gently.

looks like you are drowning and

hope i am wrong. i can see the

struggle

the turn about in water.

the history is complex
involved with movement
and a state of mind

on all parts

yesterday was long and simple

move on
with differing
music

the trial by glass

pink may be required

among the stone and lingering

youth

was good to be away a while to see different shapes and reds to greens

i saw

i skimmed slates that bounced about

some may be disappointed

that the terror remains

like in some 1950s film

or tv show

was gone some time

past tense can be horribly traumatic

with them being round and smooth

slipped off and rolled away.



when dry we looked and looked

yet cannot find them

anywhere yet

yet there are paths,

walked, not just

by one or two.

or rabbits.


have young feet run here,

or solitary folk, thinking,



watching light hit water

12.37 pm.

.a mild day here with light cloudings.

.after chores and a quiet walk around the lanes watching the birds and other gentle creatures, went into town to the half price sale in the charity, i believe you say thrift .

.a repro can, gender based on gentlemen and a badge for John’s jacket which is deeply embellished already.

.chatted to Ianto on duty at the art place then bought boxes at Clive’s to hold the new paints tidy.

.lit stove and now a couple of hours painting.

.a photograph will follow.

let us look at things, differently.
often, we do things, no one ever sees.
that is you and me. two of us
dancing on the sand.

it came
and went,
quickly.

no snow here yet at all  and fairly warm just now. stood outside in the lightening dawn and noticed the birds come differing as if they know.

.the is an owl out there near the wood.

.i like this time, the new start as if nothing untoward  happens.

.later when light I remember it does.

feel for the beautiful moments
that pass & not recorded here

they will not swim in the tidal pool
no

nor their families nor them before that

we do and the little fishes come
we do
we are a different family

sea swim
is saturdays at ten in the morning,
sundays later at eleven.


this too remembered in the bathroom.
we use the pool, mainly.

they used to be called siren suits here and were mainly designed to clothe children during the blitz I believe, and the fashion continued  after, though I never had one.

.was surfing the other moment and came across a heated garment, which sounded cosy and as for hands I have no idea.

.smiley face.

you came again in auto fill

last evening sat alone

we still cannot understand

there is no explanation for that

nor what you did

you are a ghost to us now

fading

we watched it on tv

there may be after effects
yet

nobody suggested a flock of pigeons

at 2pm that snowy afternoon

and that notes will be made

no one mentioned sleeping
later than usual

those chin tattoos
that come all beautiful
and trendy

no one thought that you will like one…