My mask of calm is about to slip
So busy today,
And time is spilt.
Suffering pain to make life work
Rushing from place to place
See no chance of resting now
Sitting neath a blossoming bough.
No I must in haste go
Till the job is finished, how?
Tag: Poem
Moths
Everyone draws butterflies but I decided to try and draw a moth. This is based on an Angle shades moth. I haven’t got it right, but I tried.
Moth
Goth
Ghost
Host
Holt
Hole
Holy
Holey
Whole
Whale
Hale
Tale
Male
Mole
Mote
Moth
Mouth
Mother
Motheaten
Sunset
One red bar of cloud
reflected in the canal,
Blue grey and pale peach
silhouette leaves and trees
mobile mast and cables.
Industrial Stoke,
Etruria on Trent
Old canal
Built by James Brindley
You are serene
No longer busy with horse and butty boats.
Tranquil sunset
Blazing sky.
Trout pout
Eyes, looking up from below
Bubbles, trickling from the waters depths,
A fishes mouth and gill’s
Scales with a metallic sheen
Jenny lurks below.
Hidden in the weeds
Pike like teeth behind those lips
Clawed hands stir the water
Webbed between fingers and toes.
Bubbles reflected in her eyes.
She sees the feet of a child,
Dabbling on the waters edge,
One grab and down it goes.
Jenny Greenteeth has struck again.
You’ve got a spider in your ear….
you’ve got a spider in your ear,
with a heart on its back.
It’s smiling gently
As it builds its web.
It stops thoughts leaking out
when you lie on your side.
Stops ear wax escaping
And keeps bed bugs out.
It plays on your eardrum
Tapping timpani
When you are asleep!
So don’t be afraid if you see a spider in my ear.
It’s just looking after it
and keeping it clean.
Kitten stares
Oh you are stern
little kitten
Ball of fluff.
Staring at me
I’m not your mum.
How can I help you?
little rascal
Cheeky boy.
Are you happy?
will you be wise
when you grow up?
You don’t answer
Just stare,
and stare…….
Ivy
Tearing down the walls,
pulling at the gutter
Growing through the roof.
The ivy strangles our house
Squeezing the mortar
Heaving up tiles
Tangling the phone wires
Pulling at my heart strings,
Today at Spode site
Flowers and old wood
Blocked up windows and peeling paint.
Dasies and dianthus.
A history in brick and slate.
Clay and pottery.
Caged in but released,
Renewed and Revivified.
Pansies and wallflowers shining,
their sunlit faces turned to a bright, chilled sky.
Crumbling with asbestos innards,
But able to be proud again.
Waiting
Waiting
I’ll be there this afternoon.
Waiting
I’ll be there soon.
Waiting
I’m on my way…
Waiting
I’ll be there today
Waiting
Or maybe tomorrow
Waiting
If the weather holds.
Waiting
He’s prone to colds.
Waiting
I’m in a rage
Waiting
It’s been an age.
Waiting
Well now he’s late
Waiting
Choose a new date.
Waiting
Watching paint dry
Waiting
I might just die!
Lines
Lines, drawn or written
Colours shaded or seen
Life is convolution
Hues and tones between.
Moving through the world
Splashing it with paint,
Vision of something beginning
Sent from Earth and Space.
Flashes of many memories
Drawing together in time
Image of family united,
Pixels describing with line.
