So Smooth. . . Shooting off in the car To keep a hospital appointment, Only to end up stuck In a bloody traffic jam. How wonderful to reach A crowded car park With only minutes to spare, to find An empty place appear as if by magic. . .
Ducking And Diving. . So many little ducks Racing at the edge of the water Disappearing for long seconds Beneath the weir swell . .
Old Time tastes. . . Having thick buttered toast And fresh comb honey With cinnamon powder Scattered upon it For the first time Since I was a child . .
All Fur Coat. . . When the room grew chill I was fascinated to feel All the hairs on my arms Slowly stand up straight . .
A Pale Dawn. . . It is a pale dawn today Faded out by soft mists, Almost like a dress rehearsal For the real thing. . .
OK Now. . . How wonderful to meet a friend Who’s been going through it And have them tell you That ‘everything’s gonna be allright’ . .
Bluer Than Blue Dream. . . Thigh high boots Are the stuff of dreams, Especially when Donald Sutherland Is prancing about in them .
Five Percent Shrinkage. . . The entirely mad enthusiasm That suddenly grips At the prospect of a long walk In a world of pouring rain . .
After the Rains. . . How exhilarating to stand Upon a wind lashed bridge Watching the frenzied rush Of swollen red-brown waters . .
Bliss. . . Sliding into a heated, Freshly changed bed, With nothing else to do But snuggle down and sleep. . .
