Just another

Once you had been full and useful

Carrying dreams and happiness

Or the oblivion of misery

You bubbled with life

Giving warmth on could nights

Quenching dry thirsts on hot days

You brought people together

And helping them talk

Slowly and greedily they drank from you

Until you too were just another

Empty  bottle

To a dear friend and mother 1977

Your strength rooted to the earth

Bending with the wind of change

Absorbing the tears of life

Yet blossoming with every spring

Stretching welcoming limbs to the sun

Spreading yourself to shelter others

Welcoming the scaling children

 Who seek the haven of your arms

But quick to punish the careless   

Your hues enhancing the sunlight

Dancing with the new dawn

Swooning under softer moon

The very idol to the goddess nature 

Water the eye of life 1976

Water the eye of life, The Lake of images

Reflecting the seekers image, displaying the world inside

 Softening the harsh lines, melting shape into shape

A refuge for dreams

Pulling the hungry looker deeper into its depth

Drowning the outside thought in mellow coloured shadows

Leaving the swimming mind floating through soft memory

Each wind caressed cloud drifting across its surface

Dusting old images alive, opening other remembrances

Long hidden in sombre depths

Each dancing spiralling ripple bouncing sparkling diamond lights

Through fading moments

Bringing wondrous new ideas throbbing in their wake

saddest words

I am, yet what I am none cares or knows.

My friends forsake me like a memory lost.

I am the self-consumer of my woes 
                                        John Clare 

Encounter with cyclist bank holiday Sunday

Just about to settle down with a nice glass of claret to watch the F1 when there is a ringing of bells, thought hello I haven’t had the microwave on, look outside to see a his and hers in matching lycra sitting astride  matching bikes. The lead one, think it was female, then starts calling out “who’s dog is this,” stick head out yes what’s the problem,  “your dog’s blocking the towpath”, I’ve been waiting for this for ages, no it isn’t, mail voice “well what’s that then”, that’s The Boo lying beside our path the towpath is on the other side of the canal. Are you a boat or berth owner if not then you’re on private property and I’m asking you to get off your bikes (strange as I’m usually telling people to “get on yer bike”) and push them to the end of the path where you will see a sign confirming what I have said. The Boo and I smugly watched two brightly coloured and chastised pedal pushers walking their bikes down the path