Month: October 2021

Music is playing,
whatever I do or I say,
let is be in song.

When easy is hard,
just step back and take a look;
have a cup of tea.

I’ve a strange feeling,
that I am missing something;
it’s usually right.

Peeling oranges,
for there is a huge demand,
for their juicy bits.

I left my shirts out,
on the line to dry last night,
and they were still there.

I gathered them in,
nice and dry and smelling fresh,
now to iron them.

I have been spending,
and I got a drum machine,
that is very neat.

There is some tension,
to every bow I have held,
it’s a real drawback.

Shopping and some stuff,
I really don’t remember,
it went in a blur.

I’m not a gambler,
but I did win a little,
and then I spent it.

It is a rest day,
I want to take it easy,
and just watch some films.

Maybe eat ice cream,
and popcorn, crisps and biscuits,
wash down with cola.

Friday was a blast,
an IED of a day,
that leaves me reeling.

My ears are buzzing,
and I stagger off somewhere,
away from Friday.

It’s such a big yawn
the jaws think, shall we lock it,
but they hesitate.

Sleeping in my chair,
the dreams changing with each snooze,
six or seven times.

Just after my lunch,
a tiredness overtook me,
and I fell asleep.

The dream felt so real,
it felt like work of a sort,
before I woke up.

The rain was falling,
like an autumn mist it hung,
falling but hanging.

I have a great hope,
to one day to get it right,
and find my marbles.

I can’t write a word,
without others following,
seeking a story,

Letters unopened,
lay scattered on the carpet,
like fall autumn leaves.

It’s getting harder,
to push this old cardboard box,
full of used notebooks.

Ripples on water,
as fish move, are not the same,
as those from a breeze.

Things that delay me,
I find them so close to home,
looking at myself.

The thing about time,
it’s either here, or it’s gone:
live in the present.

I’ve nothing to say,
and my lips are not moving,
but I write freely.

I went off to town,
on the morning train I did,
and enjoyed the views.

London’s curious,
but not as much as the folk,
that are just plain strange.

I am from London,
born and breed I am legit,
south of the river.

It is cold sunshine,
bright and cheery but so cold,
that I ran inside.

I’m hiding away,
keeping my head and quiet,
with a mug of tea.

I have a string lock,
from a coat hook on the door,
catching the handle.

Simple mechanics,
that can satisfy the simple,
that I like to be.

It is Saturday,
and in a way I like it,
more and more each day.

Starting of again,
cutting wood, making mistakes,
relearning again.

I sketched it all out,
and I was checking it twice,
but it wasn’t nice.

I will start again.
this time with some larger wood,
that will make it work.