New paintings and regular art updates.
Ripening,
Your bruises show on your skin.
Where wind and birds have scratched
And clawed at you.
But impenetrable until ripe
Your green skin is freckled and dented.
Even squirrels attempted a nibble
But the weight of your plumpness denied their grip,
Instead hurling you to the hard ground.
Collected to be put into a pie,
Cut up or discarded.
Your fate awaits.
One cute cat.
Not for sale, because we are his…
We feed him. Water him. Tend him.
Stroke, pet, hug him.
Spend time with him.
The other cat objects.
She is cute too…
But she doesn’t pose this well!
One cat a leaping,
Two cats a sleeping,
Three cats are creeping,
Four cats are weeping,
Five cats are keening,
Six cats are fleeing,
Seven cats are healing,
Eight cats are peeping,
Nine cats are greeting,
Ten cats are purring…….
Not a good poem, just a bit of rhyming babble….
Sunshine and showers
Blue sky and dark clouds,
Caged land hidden behind fences?
History gone, wiped away,
Washed by rain and hail.
Barriers to man, but not foxes or cats?
Life in the slow lane,
Land abandoned to its fate,
Blue sky reflected in puddles,
Given to dreams, waiting for growth of plants,
Or buildings?
How long will you wait
To find your fate?
I love the shapes cats make, even when they are having a wash…
Catlick, wash and brush up.
Preening and tidying,
Smoothing your fur..
Make yourself handsome,
Tidy your whiskers
Top to tail,,
Then your inner gymnast,
Turns you upside down,
Inside out,
Legs akimbo! (love those words).
Purrs escaping like a boiling kettle.
Shapes like a twister game.
You are my cat.
Beautiful and gleaming.
Atishoo .. Funny word
Onomatopoeiaic
Tissue … Chosen for its sound too?
Loud noise, close your eyes.
Watch your nose explode
Don’t worry you will be ok
It’s only a cold,
Not a small ghost!
She’s small, she’s bright,
She’s funny, she’s nice
Black and white,
Cool as ice.
Plays with toys
And catnip mice.
Grace’s has to run
And chases her brother,
Till she’s won.
Gives lots of purrs
And miaows for fun,
She’s my cat,
A cheeky one!
Not a very profound poem, just what I was thinking while looking at these photos of her.
X
Oh the bells and whistles
Oh the joy of text.
Tied to my computer
Can’t give it a rest .
Colours lights and art groups
Follow this and that
Games and news and videos
Just another app.
Fake and real and horrible,
Words all torn and turned
Life is just an algorithm
Reality unheard.
Sent from my mobile
Into your old brain
Never been so engaged
With nothing, no real gain.
So put that ruddy phone down
Turn off your all your apps
A call back to reality
Before your life is …
Hacked!
Blue and cold, chill my bones,
Snow falls sifted like icing sugar.
Whorls of wind taking heat away.
to where? Icy fingertips frosted nose,
Ankles and feet lumped with shivers,
Cooled heels , cold arms, breath softly turned to cold fog.
Heating is on but not making a dent in the chilly room.
Yesterday was glorious, brilliant, sunny.
Now I need thermal clothes to encapsulate me.
It may not warm till spring, when suns return heralds warmth.
Till then, head down, under duvet, I try and stay warm.
Winter begins in Autumns arms.
We saw a Robin at a garden centre yesterday. He was flitting through the plants and as I walked towards him he would move on. Then it got to the end of the row and just sat there so I quickly snapped a couple of pictures of it.
His (or her) red breast shone out against the dull brown of the dormant plants
I thought I would try and write a simple haiku to celebrate the bird…..
Red Robin here then
Gone with a quick flit of air
Wings take you away
I’m not sure I have mastered the style yet. But I enjoy trying.
Mallaband-Brown