Flowering Cherry
Flowering Cherry

It was a weather spread bet this morning. Rain, chunky hail, wind and sunshine, the only disappointment was the lack of snow. We’re starting work on a major revamp of our kitchen this week, never underestimate how much soil a hole can set free. I think two bags appear for every one we fill.

I’m working on spring, hence the fist view of the flowering cherry in our garden. I noticed the fist blossom high in the tree a few days ago, and these have joined the party. I’m trying to catch the sunrise gold over this tree, glorious as we sit with morning coffee and look out of the window, it always raises the spirits to see it lit up with amazing colour.

I am dipping into some old work and starting re-writing, I bumped into this and like the opening though it obviously needs a lot of work, things like this remind me how far I have come, this first saw the light of day sometime in 2001 –

Untouched blue sky, white cloud on the horizon,
cherry blossom makes an impromptu showing.
Testing the air for spring and the flowers that
will soon follow.

I had the first reminder for NaPoWriMo today, but I think this year I’ll relax and take the month off, watch other people bashing out the poems and enjoy myself with all the reading I can do that month. Have fun as winter turns into spring this month, I will mark its passing somehow, a little snow item to remind us of the journey we are all taking, every day of our lives.


Food III. The Real World

The last one in this series. I feel the ending needs some work but it is a good place to start from.


The Real World.

Eden, what could we do, we ate everything, 
that was the real reason it all changed.
The apple was just the last straw.

After the figs, the oranges, melons and lemons.
All that fresh and tender flesh. With nothing to do all day
except the berries, the fruit of his work, given to us.

We ate everything, as we sat, we gorged, juice and pips and
twig and branch. We were a plague of locust
on a ravenous march through orchards of plenty.

We didn't know they needed love.  Care, work and abstinence,
to leave enough for a future of suitable proportions.
So the apple was not exempt, not specifically off-limits,

it was just the last the final fresh morsel.  Round,
flushed red, crisp green.  A bite and our mouths,
they ran with the taste, and then - Eden was bare.

It wasn't really the eating of the apple,
and we made up the snake bit, feeling a bit guilty,
no one threw us down, after telling us not to eat
of the tree of knowledge. We had to start over.

Working finally, and sin? No, just hunger, lingering
over Eden’s empty orchards. Maybe next time we get close, 
we'll remember and step back from that last bite of the apple.

NaPoWriMo. The End.

It’s over, NaPoWriMo has run its course and I made it to the end, 30 days and 30 poems posted. I’m not sure how I feel at the moment, it’s poetry cafe tonight, we have friends visiting for the next week and I can step back to look at everything I have written, see what I like, salvage what I can, and start moving on with it all.

A nice picture of Cheddar Gorge.
A nice picture of Cheddar Gorge.

Thanks everyone who has kept visiting, it has made a difference to know someone else was out there looking in. For all the comments, likes etc. much appreciated. I may slow down the posts now, although I have a couple of walks to catch up on, and some pictures to post plus a new camera I have been trying out.

NaPoWriMo, I did it.

NaPoWriMo Day 30. The Final Word.

It’s here, the final word on the final day of NaPoWriMo and I’ve done it. Thirty poems in thirty days, what a trip we’ve had. For my final word I’ve raided my bookcase again for an old writing book, and it’s small dictionary section. I am a collector of old grammar and writing books, I find them fascinating. Even though at times my grammar and punctuation are appalling. It’s an old book as well, leather-bound and in good condition, from about the 1920’s I think, although there is no date inside. Let me know what you think about this kind of writing, I’m trying it out to see how it works, and I wanted to use the last day to say the final word in a poem. I hope you’ve found something you liked as the month has passed, and I’ll get back to replying to you all soon.

The Final Word.

(The Much in Little Series. Vol.1)

Writing Desk Book.

Poem – imaginative composition in verse.
Writer – pensman, scribbler.
Word – See figure, meaning, term.
Form – shape, appearance.
Durable – see continue.
Linger – delay, tarry, dawdle.
Abash – discompose, confound, bewilder.
Efface – blot, erase, expunge.
Leave – see abandon.
The End – object, aim, purpose, conclusion.

NaPoWriMo Day 29. The Pleasures of Hope.

Day 29. The Pleasures Of Hope by Thomas Campbell. A book I picked up in Norwich while on holiday, beautifully leather-bound, coloured frontis plates and pictures separating the sections. Anyway, browsing has given me this little piece, about perspective again. One more day to go now, nearly there, then we can all look back and enjoy the achievement.

The Pleasures of Hope  by Thomas Campbell
(a précis of intent.)

Comparing remote, 
imagined beauty
in the scene.

Why look away to the hills, 
distance only lends
enchantment to the view.

Walk a mile towards such a vision.  Arriving,
look back and see where you have been.
Looking with the same eyes. Wondering
why you left such a place for this remote crag.

And yet still she waits,
love can linger on in the deep.