Escape? – haiku

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Distant sunlit hills
beguile me with their beauty
when storm clouds gather

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Dried Up

My sea of words
ebbs and flows.
Today my tide is out
the grey sand is dry,
and though ideas float on
the offshore breeze
they fade into dust
before they land.

Perhaps tomorrow
gentle waves
will send them home
to this blank white beach.

 

 

(yep, tip of the day… if you’re stuck about what to write, write about being stuck about what to write 🙂 )

 

Lucky Little Lady!

I’m not in the habit of entering competitions, from past experience it’s a recipe for disappointment for me.  However, this weekend I was encouraged to enter a photograph in the ‘nature and wildlife’ category at the local village flower and produce show (mostly because I wasn’t up to entering a painting and the rest of my art group were tsk…).  Anyhoo… hey… whatdayaknow… I won! Not exactly international success or fame and fortune I know, but nonetheless, I was quite chuffed, and got a certificate and everything!! So here she is, the lucky little lady:

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Dead Head

Captive in a comfy chair
in the resident’s lounge,
she serves me bitter coffee
with watery milk.
Not the way I like it.

The others stare absently
at their sippy cups,
remembering
the days of dancing
down the aisles,
deciding what’s for tea.
choosing favourites,
The ‘meals for two’ special offers
that came with a bottle of wine.
To share.

No alcohol here.
Dining room misery instead.
Tasteless food, mushy in my mouth,
school dinner puds
washed down with childhood squash,
all consumed to the tune
of coughing and cursing,
and the shout of instructions,
and endless questions from
lost minds.

Wheeled back to the room
for my ‘nap after lunch’
we pass the locked route to the garden.
The clematis needs pruning,
and the dead roses still droop on the bush
out there, in that life giving air
that once I breathed
in my own beloved space
of borders and pond,
and sandpits and slides.

I stare from the window
people pass below.
They hurry to work
clutching their coffees,
driving their cars,
catching buses,
pushing prams.
Their hectic lives an inconvenience
but what I wouldn’t give to
be busy once more.

 

Stood up in the Sixties

I waited there at Kensington Tube
My skinny teenage legs
framed by lemon yellow hotpants
and cute matching socks

chin up and posing
the cheap and cheerful
Chelsea Girl look
No second glances for me though

Despite my twiggyness
Despite the nervous shaking of
my thin blond mane
or thick eyeliner applied in vogue

neither the regular tune of the trains
nor the checking of my chunky watch
stopped the time
and each minute past the hour

Became a taunt
Until the truth struck
and mascara running
I rued my platform soul

Me sixties

Yes, this is me in the sixties!

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/waiting-2017/

 

 

 

 

Anthropomorphism #1

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Oh I’d like to be a spoon
canoodling with my chums
laying in the kitchen drawer
bums to shiny bums

I’d be used to scoop up ice cream
and savoury soups and stews
I’d sit on the saucer of a china cup
while my owner was reading the news

I’d serve the loose white sugar
to make the tea taste sweet
my humble tum would hold it all
and keep the table neat

Oh to be a silver spoon
amongst the great and good
and be used for grand occasions
to help them eat their pud

🙂