I have a handful of stones, rattling around in my pocket, tumbling about, but never quite finished.
For what they are worth, here are a clutch of thoughts made word, little moments over the last few days.
a V and A museum gift shop plastic bag absentmindedly left behind in the bottom of the supermarket trolley I pull out of the bay. how very Waitrose.
life isn't always a summer day is it?
there are bruising greys and approaching storms,
the only truth is that everything eventually passes.
But close to my heart, like a note tucked safely in my old jacket pocket,
i hold the sliver of faith that there is always light, piercing and warm,
behind those scudding slate-grey gusts.
it's fly apparently, and peng not butters? i don't understand what my kids are saying. i need lessons in yoof.
sometimes words come winging in,
great flocks overhead,
swooping down to me,
making shapes I can see,
circling truths, words for free .
other days I look up
and nothing swoops by
so I helplessly stare
wringing words out of air,
but they stay out of reach, resolutely up there.
For what they are worth, here are a clutch of thoughts made word, little moments over the last few days.
a V and A museum gift shop plastic bag absentmindedly left behind in the bottom of the supermarket trolley I pull out of the bay. how very Waitrose.
******
life isn't always a summer day is it?
there are bruising greys and approaching storms,
the only truth is that everything eventually passes.
But close to my heart, like a note tucked safely in my old jacket pocket,
i hold the sliver of faith that there is always light, piercing and warm,
behind those scudding slate-grey gusts.
******
it's fly apparently, and peng not butters? i don't understand what my kids are saying. i need lessons in yoof.
******
sometimes words come winging in,
great flocks overhead,
swooping down to me,
making shapes I can see,
circling truths, words for free .
other days I look up
and nothing swoops by
so I helplessly stare
wringing words out of air,
but they stay out of reach, resolutely up there.
Posts
Simply wonderful! Love your words and poems!
ReplyDeleteGreetings from the Périgord,
karin
I have had to remind myself often lately that the sun is shining just above those grey clouds ... it's a good thought to hold onto! Great post Belinda :D
ReplyDeleteI like the poem, your photos, and your random words which also paint a picture in my mind.
ReplyDeleteA great medley of stones! Thank you!
ReplyDeleteYour photos are so beautiful, even if it's a gloomy day. I will send a little sunshine your way from Southern California. Have a nice weekend.
ReplyDelete~Sheri
You know how talented you are don't you? Your words are evocative and beautiful and full of truth. I hope you know that you're an excellent writer. That poem is sooooooo true - it made me laugh and feel a bit sad at the same time. Keep writing. I think you love it. Xxx
ReplyDelete