New paintings and regular art updates.
A threader had dared people to write a poem using the word socks.
I came up with this :
My socks fell round my ankles
As the elastic was worn
It’s really not a good look
And I should have sworn
But I was in an interview
Trying for a job
So I hid my legs very quickly
And decided to shut my gob!
Very silly I know! Hope you laugh!
Collage of windows
Old Wood, plastic film
Keeping viewers out
Allowing partial views
Plants shelter the room
Art is made here
A calm, warm atmosphere
A place to chill, relax
Find harmony
Leaves Fall in Autumn
Flowers spring up in Spring
Summer sums the year up
Winter does what? Wint?
Seasons they are all….
Never know what words mean
They are only sounds,
What is the word Autumn
Two syllables round.
It’s more interesting to say
Than a bland word like fall.
A remnant of history
That our ancient world recalls.
Foam, bubbles, froth
Soap and water
Float on water
Sploshing
Splishing
Splashing
Soft to the skin
Bathing
Washing
Suds for cleaning
Where would we be
Without them?
We sang about the boats and pots
Of horses pulling barges.
Before the cuts were built and dug.
The plates broke on the carts
A third of pottery destroyed
Because of mud and ruts
For a hundred years the canals enjoyed
The busy work of transport
Then motorways and rail roads were built
And ware shifted to “faster” ways.
The cuts were clogged with water weeds
The towpaths overgrown.
Until the leisure cruisers came
And cleaned the weeds away.
Now British waterways they rule
And you can moor your boat
Anglers dip their rods in water
And catch all sorts of course fish.
The canals are better than before
No shopping trolleys in them.
A resource for walkers, boaters, folk,
To enjoy and rest and play.
Lift your head up
See life
See the sky
Don’t just look at shop windows
See architecture..
Interesting windows,
Grooves and gutters
See the tree leaves
Waving in the wind
Xanthophyll and chlorophyll
Colours changing
Lift up your heads
See the setting sun
Falling with the leaves.
Put down your phone
And experience Autumn.
Kneading my knees
Poddling I call it,
Old cat is keen to stay.
I don’t want him to go away.
His life is ebbing
Slowly by
Like a tide moving out
Taking his memory
In its grip.
No more head bumps
No more nuzzles
An empty space expected
Soon.
What is this thing called grey matter?
How does it work?
A controller of movement,
A creator of language
Emotions pull decisions
One way or the other.
Joined up letters and thinking.
Science explores and probes
Into the thing that created science.
Art and Music flow,
Pain and pleasure,
Athletic prowess.
Genius and idiocy,
Two sides of different minds.
He looks like a kitten
Out in the sunshine
Flowers surround him
Lion hearted kitty
So full of life
But now in shadow.
Cats should be infinite
Beings of magic
Limitless
But as they say
*all good cats must come to an end”
Nine lives almost used up.
I can’t believe he will be gone.
Eye sheild
Shield safety
Safely keep
Keep eye safe
Can’t see much
But what I see
Is better
Mallaband-Brown