Salford, 30th May
Found this poem in one of my old scribble books – and thought i’d share it here.
The sap from the bark
caught the sleeping tree spider
in a sticky moment
Signs from the wood told
all the insects – do not come here
caution thrown to winds
And as time ran out
the lone spider was transformed
into a wonder
Trapped in its own time
encased in an Amber tomb
surrounded by Gold
Inkdrop is freelance writer with a passion for exploring the intersections between nature, architecture, and artistic expression. With a background in computing, and writing – his pen name harks back to when he played around with rhymes and a fountain pen. Now joined by a selection of created photos from an acquired DSLR camera He shares insights with scribblers of all backgrounds. Outside of visiting museums and exploring the latest in exhibits , he enjoys walking through the countryside in pursuit of the next rainbow.
The Inkwell 
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