Lone ripe tomato
On the windowledge
Most are green
Or yellow
But this one blushes red.
Like scarlet lips
Or post box ripe
This lone tomato
I will swipe!
Then eat with lettuce
A delight!
Lone ripe tomato
Tag: Poetry
Too hot
Hot and humid
I have to sit in the shade
UV’s too high
Pollen count too
Had cherries and cream
For high tea today
Now I need a cuppa tea
To make me feel cool.
Blackbird is singing
In the garden today
Water to drink
In an old shallow tray.
Odd places
He sleeps on the floor
Next to the couch
On the edge of a throw
Curled happily
Asleep near my feet.
Cats choose to be comfy
Snuggled up in a ball
Wherever they want to
Relaxed and sweet.
Psychedelic
Playing and dazzled
Colours shimmer
An age of experiment
Tickling imagination
Make love not war?
We know it’s bad for us
Now
Flowers and us
Beauty in a bloom,
Hidden shapes
Finding nectar
Bee time
Hover flies
Burnished ladybirds
Crawling, flying, scuttling.
Flowers feed them
They feed us.
Save the insects
Saving flowers
Saving us!
My knee!
Does she have to?
Looking up
Reaching out
Claws extended
A cat smile on her face
Eyes start to close
Claws in
Pull and stretch away from me
Claws graze my knee
through the cloth
Of my trousers
Tail waving in joy
Then off to seek food!
Walk that road
Walk that lonely road,
Carry a heavy load
Head down with your thoughts
Tangled up and caught.
Never look around
Don’t listen to the sound
Of singing birds
Or spoken words…
They are hidden
And are unbidden
From you world
Mind unstirred
Alone.
Green
Just green.
Over the world
More air to breathe
Fresh and clean.
Keep the trees
Grow more forests
Stand back from the land
Let nature take over
Give life a chance.
A long day…
Gardening, Yoga, Choir practice
All in one day!
Poppies to pot
Marigolds and lobelia
Plants bought needed tending.
Then oh!
Blissful Yoga
But with stretches
The Cobra and Sphinx
That have made my legs ache.
Finally, singing
Bunting still hanging
Samoan and Maori
English, fragrent and flowery.
So much in a few hours.
A good rest?
That will be best
X
Friday already?
Friday? Already?
How did that happen?
Where do the days
And nights go?
When will they be gone
Run out?
The sands of time
Stretch far into the future
But soon the tide turns
You lose sand
And gain infinite water
The sea is deep
You cannot escape it
Friday’s always come round
Too fast.
Mallaband-Brown 