The waves crashing in,
cannot hide sunsets beauty,
but can set it up.
It was washed ashore,
a small casket treasure filled,
full of memories.
The light hanging low,
swinging gently chasing light,
running from shadows.
Category: Just for the moment
15-01-23 Life Circles.
The woods will soon spring,
into flowers and bird song,
telling you, come in.
Wanting to forget,
as waves wash the words away,
but it’s not enough.
A welcome coffee,
and it’s so reassuring,
hot and comforting.
14-01-23 Flat Out
Uncover tennis,
in an enormous white tent,
and mugs of coffee.
The day started well,
with much to do, getting done,
until I lost steam.
And it would not start,
the engine died, wouldn’t start,
and so, that was that.
13-01-23 Friday 13th
My brain juice ran out;
need to run a top up in,
and over fill it.
I woke this morning,
to look out on a dark sky,
knowing it’s Friday.
Friday the thirtieth,
and not one, not three, but five,
things that have gone wrong.
12-01-23 Inspired TV
Sci-fi and horror,
and that somewhere in between,
package holidays.
TV inspired me,
to write the above Haiku,
with all those adverts.
The bin was emptied,
and it felt like victory,
which I celebrate.
11-01-23 Ink in Life
My pen ink is blue,
and the shape of the letters,
are formed easily.
If you don’t pursue,
what you really want in life,
you will not get it.
Music is drifting out,
across the fields to the trees,
that do sway gently.
10-01-23 Awake
Nice to have a change,
a stroll across London Bridge,
and some sight seeing.
The mug waits close by,
empty and growing colder,
longing for that heat.,
Eyes growing heavy,
struggle to watch and look on,
until the dreams come.
09-01-23 Wet Coffee
The wind blows and rocks,
the raindrops on the clothes line,
that catch the sunlight.
The ground wet with rain,
shimmers in the car head lights,
distantly staring.
My mug of coffee,
hot and ready to greet me,
with slurp after slurp.
08-01-23 Light time
The ink is smudging,
and it is looking arty,
and words are the art.
We can not catch it,
just watch clocks and calendars,
for time’s elusive.
Light is refracted,
and sends it colours about,
and ever perfect.
07-01-23 Like Dust in the Wind
Talking to my friends,
and same old conversations,
but time changes it.
The clocks adorn walls,
and time leaves them on repeat,
looped on half a day.
We waste more than spend,
and all call time as precious;
like holding gold dust.