When winter’s snow at last

When winter’s snow at last begins to thaw
and buds and blossoms start their sumptuous show
we sense the seasons cease their senseless war.

First snowdrops shyly peer out to explore
the scene, then daffodils with golden glow
when winter’s snow at last begins to thaw.

Faint breezes fan our brows, no longer raw,
and short rain showers substitute for snow.
We sense the seasons cease their senseless war

now celandines have lit the forest floor
and dancing daisies over grassland grow,
when winter’s snow at last begins to thaw.

Moist fat balls, seeds and mealworms, they’re the store
that blackbirds, tits and finches want to know.
We sense the seasons cease their senseless war.

The border’s down; breath held, we watch in awe
with next-door neighbour now a friend, not foe.
When winter’s snow at last begins to thaw
we sense the seasons cease their senseless war.

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Villanelle on ‘spring’ written in response to a creative writing course poetry assignment

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Burnt scraps in the grate

Remains of scraps of pages found among the ashes in the fireplace of the holiday cottage.

First scrap:

They say cats are inscrutable but this one has a better chance of getting back to the rest. Let’s do the same again and get a few more of them together in the next few weeks. I will also be able to get the money back from the bank.

Second scrap:

The paper was rightly ridiculed for its anti-intellectual stance and apparent misunderstanding of the process.

They called forensics in.

---

Predictive Text Flash Fiction

The key

The front cover is the door that opens,
the portal that allows us entry
into new worlds, new times,
new lives in which to lose ourselves,
discover others
and see our own world
from a different perspective

Please don’t throw away the key

Burden

More expectations!
You’re disappointed? Did I
ask to be born? No!

Impro

Close-up of grotesque in Thwaite church, Suffolk

​

Yah boo! said the yahoo,
the boho yobbo hobo,
whose hobby is playing on the oboe
(though he can’t tell his arse from his elbow)
which he plays all day in Soho
while they film it all in slo-mo

Ideals and no deals

Is there still an Olympic ideal? For if not there should be we feel.
It’d be such a treat if all teams didn’t cheat, thinking each shiny medal’s a steal.
Rogue countries just seem on the make because status is always at stake.
So where some have hope there are others who dope as though it’s oh so clever to fake.
Let’s pray no banned drugs are internal so that Rio is rendered infernal.
Then events will all seem above board — squeaky clean — and thus will the flame burn eternal.

Today Was

Today Was

Monday was Hug-an-Atheist Day
but I found that my arms
couldn’t reach all the way
round my body

Tuesday was National Book Lovers Day
but I missed it
I was too busy
reading in bed

Next came International Xenophobia Day
and I spent all Wednesday
just hating
myself

Thursday was National Paradox Day
but it took me till nighttime
staying in bed
to puzzle it out

Friday was Who Gives A Damn Day
and I decided to do
just that and go
back to bed

Saturday was the thirteenth
day of the month
and my luck
just
ran
out

Sunday was the seventh day
when God rested

Who can argue with that?

challenge

sun’s eye, rising up,
sees upstart camera phone
rays challenging lens

 

drapery

material folds
resembling marble sculpture
aping drapery

100th blog on Zenrinji

reflections

Mimi shuns Fleck review
I wrote just then in spent daze;
days spent in, then just wrote
“I view reflections, Mimi …”

syllabic palindrome, first posted June 20th 2014, in which all the syllables until “daze” then reverse, starting with “days” — a conceit which just about works if one works at it

haven

pleasure craft and those that trawl
stonework saving labour’s haul
of lobster pots and fishes caught
safe haven under harbour wall

September 22nd post re-posted

branches

spring sunshine bathing
bare branches burgeoning buds
about to bloom, burst

July 10th post re-posted