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Burning Eyes

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Eyes that burnt burnt for you burnt for me flames devoured everything emotions, dreams a vision of joy of someone given someone so special. Eyes seared with pain a blurred vision of an opaque appearance fleeting glimpses through falling droplets from a river of sadness. Those dreams melted faded away with the passing of time slipping slowly out of reach outstretched fingers frantically grasping for the life that would soon be a memory. Those eyes burned all hope diminished no lies told. The fire continued to flicker the flame will never dim the memories will forever glow in the embers … Continue reading Burning Eyes

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Thought Garden

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In the haphazard garden, the confusing jungle of shapes, textures, aromas and images, thoughts drift, linger, and drift again. Like the cat, ginger and white fur prowling, slinking in and out, brushing through the undergrowth, until the seeds of delight are found, planted with a sigh, in the straight channels, of a freshly turned bed, and the page is printed. Inspired by the poem ​Thought Fox​ by Ted Hughes (1957) Continue reading Thought Garden

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N.H.S.

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I walked into the small pharmacy. An elderly man wearing khaki joggers and a big grey padded jacket was being served. He spoke kindly to the assistant wishing her a good day as he shuffled out of the door. Was this the only human contact he had that day? I asked for prescriptions for two people – myself and my wife. Two large bags of medication are brought to the counter and handed over. I showed my wife’s exemption card and left the shop with the meds. No fuss, no issues, no charge!  We are so fortunate in the UK … Continue reading N.H.S.

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A Winter Walk Revisited…

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We were out on our daily thirty minute walk in the winter sunshine. The time of the afternoon we squinted, dazzled as we were heading into the low sun. But I would rather be blinded by the sun than to not see the blue sky or any brightness at all. There is a freshness to the air when the day is clear at this time of the year and it filled me with positivity and hope.  When the green is all around and blue high above I walk with a smile and the girl I love Dangling catkins, the first … Continue reading A Winter Walk Revisited…

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Books Everywhere!

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Books, books and more books! Am I ever going to get round to reading them all? Sad to say, but probably not. Then why are more and more of them purchased, downloaded, and borrowed? Why are books so difficult to resist? I guess many book lovers feel the same. Books are simply irresistible objects. We are unable to pass by a book shop without entering, even if it is just to take in the intoxicating booky aroma that smacks you in the face when you step inside; especially if it is one of those, usually compact, indie bookstores. A precaution … Continue reading Books Everywhere!

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Memories of Music and Melodies – Part 2

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And that one Beatles song that for me is the best is… Well, before the song, some more scene setting. This is the image in my mind that the song often returns me to. A weekday morning at some point in 1967. It must have been a school holiday as me and my brother were not at school and dad was at work. In those days we had a duffle bag full of toy cars – matchbox cars, dinky toys, all sorts of motor vehicles, all shapes and sizes and many of them scratched and with buckled wheels. Newer cars … Continue reading Memories of Music and Melodies – Part 2

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Memories of Music and Melodies – Part 1

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In previous posts this week I talked about how the smell of freshly cut grass transports me back to a more carefree time – to the summers of the 1960’s and 70’s, and how those memories also bring my parents to mind. Today I am again… reminiscing. I have recently been listening to, and finished, a podcast series about the songs of Paul McCartney. Every episode covered a specific song each of which provided me a nugget or two about those songs that I was unaware of previously. But rather than talk about what I have learnt I want to … Continue reading Memories of Music and Melodies – Part 1

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The Storm Concerto

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High notes of the harp fine plucking against the window pane cascading ripples to the lower strings a volume increase a tempo change the timpani rumbles a warning grumble the black-grey opens with a rattling of sticks against the snare drums edge before the drum is beat hard as heavy rain falls and the xylophone joins the band with dissonant chords and cymbals clash adding to the cacophony. When tyres swish through the flowing mass then abruptly swept is an invisible baton bringing to an end with a sudden halt all but the cymbals and harp the fluttering of strings … Continue reading The Storm Concerto