New paintings and regular art updates.
Brick built through glass,
Blue, crisp, cold sky.
Observed through ice,
Layered, feathered,
Hard and delicate.
Like royal icing,
Infinitely spun in shards.
Spiders Web of facets.
Glinting and clinking in the sun.
Breath burns holes in it,
A cold palm melts into a print.
Frosted glass?
Frosting on a cake?
Feathered moonlight,
Frost…
I’m still playing,
Don’t want to bore you,
Having fun,
Sketching and drawing.
Finding my feet
In the world of sketching,
Drawing on memory.
Faces imagined,
Can I stop?
Not yet!
Taken from a photo,
not just black and white.
This cats whiskers
Are long and thin and bright.
Sturdy and determined
Brindled fur and paw.
Eyes glaring strongly,
Nose in the air.
Walking up to greet me,
Nuzzle at my hand,
A cat with a character.
This cats love is grand.
This image is for illustration purposes only and does not represent the people in the poem.
Love held them together, and apart, for twenty years,
First love was theirs, second love someone else’s.
Only third love bought them together again.
Maybe a fourth love will change things?
Today’s view,
long drive.
More later!
Beautiful fox
Red furred wonder,
Sneaky or intelligent,
Fantastic Mr?
Hunted for centuries
By red coated riders
Chased with hounds
For “sport”
Persecuted for being
A fox.
You know I like creating these pictures by putting usually 4 duplicated photos together so you get a fantastic or puzzling image floating in the middle of a sky.
Flying mountains
Fiery roof,
Limestone ufo,
Floating in the seat.
Mist and shadow
Stone built wall
Mountain landscape
Sky reflected on sea.
Sitting on the world
Held down by gravity
Like a fly pinned
To a windscreen
Travelling through space
At thousands of miles an hour
Thank goodness we can’t fall off.
That look says
Spider,
I see you,
There is no escape,
I will watch you
And when you are not looking,
I will pounce.
But now
I will just stare
My two big eyes
Against your eight.
As June turns into July
I see a bird rise up to fly
I see a cloud floating past
and a flag upon a mast.
I see buttered scones
and currant buns,
Ice cream cones
and happy mums,
dozing cats all curled, asleep
The carp from its pond does peek
People rest and take their ease.
Buzzy are the drones of bees.
Now that summers at its height
Feel the Sun in its might.
Mallaband-Brown