Month: August 2022

Doing stuff I hate,
but it is necessary,
someone must do it.

Got a coffee now,
and browsing family trees,
and finding stories.

Make a starting fart,
quickly write of what you see,
in a short poem.

Red apples piled high,
next to the box of cereal;
I don’t like them, that’s why,
I will let them fall.

Start where you are at,
not back at the beginning,
and change your ending.

Two bottles of coke,
standing cool and looking good,
ready to party.

Hot hidden sunset
sets oak silhouette a blaze,
with fierce fiery clouds.

The midnight hour’s gone,
and the night is just darkness,
and time all did sleep.

Things are changing me,
and that’s for a good purpose,
like, to improve me.

It is a Friday,
and I struggled to an end,
and to find my bed.

The room was spinning,
and fish and chips kept moving,
going round and round

I sat it darkness,
and watched the TV flicker,
with strange neon lights.

Words blossom and fall
like fruit ripe to use and eat,
inspiring writers.

Hi, what’s your question,
I have an answer or two,
ain’t that the truth.

The trains didn’t run,
so we all just stayed at home,
and had a lay in.

I started work right,
with a coffee on my desk,
and ready today.

What is being brave,
its not the absence of fear,
so, do it afraid.

I am waiting now,
for the words to come again
and inspire my pen.

It is slow going,
on the Central Line today,
problems up the line.

The rain is falling,
filling great dirty puddles,
and flooding my shoes.

Time does no flavours,
but they say that it can heal,
or do we forget.

My mind refuses,
to contribute anything,
but we get along.

The word vine looks great,
it’s flowering such beauty,
for a great romance.

When I fell asleep,
beneath the word vine poems came,
so divine they sang.

The rain didn’t come,
and the ground stay hard and dry,
but there remained hope.

A rainbow appeared,
as if to say there was rain,
somewhere in the world.

It’s starting to rain, but the sun just will not yield; so, the scene is set.

The smell of the rain, on the hot and dry ground, just smells so lovely.

Within easy reach,
these plums need some more time,
and should be ripe soon.

Now is elusive,
but it is for everyone,
so, now this and now that.

Some summer delights,
some ripening blackberries,
beside the pathway.

Stories unwritten,
are carried on the wild winds,
whispered on the breeze.

The weekend is here,
do I step up or down gear,
or just park it up.

The sun’s a strongman,
that will strike with a hard heat,
when you go outside.

It is hot today,
and there’s no escaping it,
inside or outside.

There is nothing left,
a few scatter words no more,
that make this Haiku.

The weather is hot,
we wanted summer a lot,
and that’s what we got.

In my paddling pool,
I try to drown the small ducks,
but they pop right up.

The weekend is here,
do I step up or down gear,
or just park it up.

I’m finishing end,
the washing up is now done,
and it’s time for bed.