Showing posts with label #aros. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #aros. Show all posts

Monday, 31 January 2011

So here it is, my last small stone for the River!


On a dual carriage way
between the busy lanes,
a huddled mound of
blackened cloth?


...I think I will have continue to collect small stones for my own stream - I'm a little bit hooked now! ;-)

Sunday, 30 January 2011

Two brown boots
carefully aligned,
laces languid.

Saturday, 29 January 2011

In the distance beyond the patchwork fields,
they stride purposefully around the valley’s edge.

Wednesday, 26 January 2011

I watch the mist curl
down over the horizon
in horizontal stripes.

Tuesday, 25 January 2011

The clouds mirror the
mountains, in frothy peaks.

Monday, 24 January 2011

In need of an anchor,
I'm floating away
on sudsied waters.

Friday, 21 January 2011

I couldn’t resist, I didn’t try
I judged a book by its cover,
now I’m afraid to peer inside.

Wednesday, 19 January 2011

The reflection
on my windscreen,
is a shiny sixpence
in a black satin sky.

Tuesday, 18 January 2011

It spreads across my cracker
like jellied amber,
across my tongue
like sweet, singed citrus.

Monday, 17 January 2011

the pleasure of the words
disappearing from the page,
as the images begin to
dance hazily behind my eyes.

Sunday, 16 January 2011

The wind wails in waves
outside our 3 bed fortress,
silently finding its way
inside it sends a dust bunny
skittering across the floor.

Friday, 14 January 2011

My glass stands empty but still
blistered with condensation.

Thursday, 13 January 2011

Woman's Best Friend

My hand is lifted gently by his wet nose,
just in case I had forgotten.
Morning breaks before dawn,
sun rises, albeit in shroud
I do not, I am slumped
but not slumbering,
my cup lolling languidly.

Tuesday, 11 January 2011

Traffic by Beethoven

As though moving to a conductors baton
part of a silent symphony
steering into and out of my path,
slowing my progress.

Monday, 10 January 2011

Darkened dirty windows,
eyes filled, spilling its tears
the wind howling in sympathy.

Sunday, 9 January 2011

Sunday Lunch

A colossal lick of roast beef lolls out of a
gargantuan Yorkshire mouth, his three year old
eyes widen at the improbability of his task.

Saturday, 8 January 2011

A velvet night, the crescent moon
cradled in a silhouette sycamore,
with a sprinkle of stars for company.

Friday, 7 January 2011

...Next Time with Turrets

Disappointment lingers
for a moment more
plans are sand between my fingers

I will build another castle

Coming Home


Through the frozen glass
a light glows, soft and yellow
I am warmly welcomed
though the house is empty.