when I was a kid
it was after the war
i know as they talked of it a lot

sometimes would hear a car coming
and would run to the gate to watch

it and the dust man’s lorry
one driving
two to run and carry
i think

not much traffic then
like now

on a solitary day i may climb
the graveyard wall
stand high and watch it here

like to see the bus , mansel davies

and especially the rock lorries
from up the quarries

helping on the sea defences

king canute

lift the cotton, look again.

cover the place with whiteness.

pink is pretty, white is clean.

they do not want to see it
today, a reminder of fragility.

he said to wait by the war memorial

so i did &

counted the names.

from the first and second.

none mentioned from all the others before

or ongoing.

enjoyed the drizzle, the memories.

planes flew over and a text came

just before the fflecsi arrived.

:: nothing ::

dissecting the thing

into pieces

and chucking it into the canal

it is nothing

no more

may reappear.

whatever reason,

comfort for some that there are recognitions.

she asked about side effects and though
after reading the instructions felt there

were none
noted before

when suddenly came the surge of energy

mention plagiarism

&

after research find it is

spelled so

to tell you it was just a friend
who did it often one way then

another

then they blocked me
nicely

permanently

so it goes

in a few words

james

may be as well if two buckets are bought

at the same time

not to keep them

one

inside

the other

for  length of times..

saw them on the way to montgomery by bus

& finding them cheaper than elsewhere  bought them on the way home

popped them in the shed  where they melded together well

heat and sheer determination eventually prised them apart

two buckets

intended on a sandwich maybe from the convenience store with the metal cafe seating outside

had noticed the chip shop and remembered that those and fish shops would be closed on mondays as no fishing on sundays then

now we are overfishing, killing those that live at sea

then see

it was open

chose small chips with salt and vinegar to taste while he enquired if i was on holiday

brightened up when i mentioned the bus from dolgellau

i had cash for him as required hidden from myself in the unaccustomed bag

sat carefully on a town bench and ate all the tiny crunchy bits and crumbs of fried batter from the edge indispersed with fatter juicy ones which sagged and dripped goo nicely

fortunately found a fairly clean cotton handkerchief in my jacket pocket for wiping face and fingers

could not eat them all

despite the small

portion and wrapped back up for later

my jacket is green with three quarter sleeves and have had it a while now

it was after that i found the marked robber’s grave in the church yard

became slightly nervous looking up
at it
retreated to the studio

doubly,
font and image.
to twice the normal extent
or degree.

things happen, we deal,
cards are set, dice thrown.

life moves on.

there was a gentle breeze going, then
the sun came through.

busy day
much achieved
yet
no one will
notice

but me

and i will check it all

tomorrow
and beautify


18.32

you asked me to explain,

i did so lightly. the other said no one else

dare ask.

i tell you it is a full and complicated story

is round, and

round  the table,

the few.



spoke in tongues

of age and wisdom.



smiled the crease

of ages.



so while all is flung apart,

we watched, waited.



we were near the sea.

have been off work for ten months
so work at home

a lot

on this and that

and the garden

at the front

a smaller one at the back

both were wet yesterday and slidy with mud
my walking making it worse

when I was out to make it look better

i intend to have an easy day
the day after boxing day

there is good reason

that inspires

not the modern kind

more the flavour of another time

another rhyme

water falls,
stains enamel.

some notice, yet
do not judge.

he may have
been
aquarius, yet
he is not

understand the difficulties

understand the fear


it needs to have activity

it needs to have depth


yet there is no need for admiration

no need for folk to like it

and we worry when they do

a darker green,
jasmine climbs the window,
storms brew, we are older now.

spread out as cotton threads

knotted

&

i will not mention the word

we continue with new white paint
and orange too

bought on my first solo day out by bus
this year

remembering not to touch anything.

all became a thing yesterday
regarding these marks of ours

and we finished
on this

i hope you do not mind

drawing the child with found fabrics
watching the marks come good, no dots
intended
yet they came
without warning

old story remembered  from the beach
that warm afternoon while all were playing
relaxing
the hunted tried not to sleep
there
for fear of being robbed or found

solitude is usual ,              even welcomed.

trips out reveal another state. the mind
and all travelling            excites, , i await
silence.

again.

he asked me a question, then i replied.

endlessly.                      it may be a gift?

ash escapes the brain

into    air.

days left,

three voices

rise, until just

one

is heard

**

on reading of orchids

have been meaning to tell  what a lovely book

you gave me

so while the mopped floors dry i am marooned with

the internet a while

a good grasping size, embossing feels good to touch

while one chapter at a time opens new ideas  and

brings fond memories of dorset country side

solitude

another time in life

thank you

is it all a dream, or facts
in reality, made of mind.


all stone residue haunting.
our life. will we very know
forever wandering?

perseverance came lovely even the last seven minutes

beautiful like ballet landing softly

if you stop writing

about me , will i

disappear?

will we be so quiet

no one will notice us,

any more?

the bear considered, thought

it may be nice.

.normal.

is what you are told

it is

until

you realise

it is

not

they say

they

do they not know the darkness,

how the light can fade into latin,

and all things reasonable

means more if you sit quietly
in the light

oil pond mirrors the darkness the november

day                  sun draws white against the grey

this       leaf  lays on earth

eight thirty  till five.   it could have been easy, yet there were issues of the electronic kind   meaning wasting time with wires and connections.

cover the surface.   it takes time.

paper covers history.

bent on layers

of time, pretending.

the roads here are winding, the leaves are changing.
best not to bang the teapot down on serving, best
to tell the truth.

look at the weathered walls
hear the song come random

we are survived.

light came, we saw the green ness of it all.                          we live in the country.

the back road was
littered, rather blustery.

today
we have a darker day

during the evening after tea,

we wondered who had invented the chair

you said goodbye
said it had ended
here

to go there
or email you

i agreed as it was time for a change

time for a change of subject
of pattern

i did not agree to continue


he said that was the issue with the
work

it keeps changing

as things do tend to

sometimes there are too many words
and little truth

things come clear with time

touch of red

suggested at dinner, to make
a photograph splendid, i noticed

the same in paintings at exhibition.

looking out, the grave yard, noticed
a touch of colour by the white.

dark small cloud dropped rain.
still, the small birds sing

turn & there

before you, before you

the flags have found you.

the word came involuntarily,
others were stuck, yet i knew
them to be beautiful, and
so they are.

storm came yesterday dark and loud  the landscape veiled

awash a while.

black things fade and all is grey.

win or lose hedge your edge

write of parlay.

some of us most of us

tucked inside

becoming whiter

chattering

small white teeth

island monkeys could not

go abroad

no boat

no plane no nothing

sadly they read books on other countries

with adventures, himalayas & ranuph fiennes

some thing is changing here,

so slight it can hardly be

noticed.

yet it has been.  a feeling,

came after light rain .

he says people will carry on
the fight;

while
those on the streets suffered
even more this week

think i heard a night jar

up the valley here.

it was a quiet night except

for that.

we have the window open now.