salford, 12th October 2018
#octpowrimo
taken into consideration
over years of treatment, therapy, and exercise
reaction to my medical condition could be
taken as torture as
under orders from the quacks I’ve been
really put through the ringer…
even though , looking back, it was doing me good
#octpowrimo
Salford , 10th October 2018
I don’t remember exactly
When my clumbersome feet
Felt lighter than a feather
Perhaps it was walking across fields of flowers
Or watching the squirrels In the local park,
Rolling around in the mounds of freshly cut grass
Or maybe, it was the taste of strawberries in winter,
Hiding away in a little fruit tartlet
Or at most, the moment at that high school dance
Where the girl I had an eye on gave me half a chance
Moments now scattered in the mind, here and there
Moments I was literally dancing on air
#Promptuarium
13th September 2018
Hidey Holes in the place where I rest my head
hold memories, to recall and to cherish
programmes of events and photographs
uniform pins of times gone by
Old cameras look on in awe as
24 stills turn to 48 turn to over a 100
as film turns to cartridge and to chip
how many memories are on the corner of my desk ?
Archives of old journals and diaries
now playing hide and seek
in the corner of a wardrobe space
On occasion, shown the light to read
And what of the tapes and videos
now boxed away ?
The machines can no longer play
Tape recorder occasionally used, video cassette – gathering dust
#Toystory #Memories #Childhood
Salford 6th September
I can see them now
scattered around on the floor
those little bricks that stuck together
some square – some rectangles
some red, some yellow, some blue, some green
we made trees and houses
for the little lego people
that rode around in the cars
on the stubbily green grass outside the house
we’d just built
#promptuarium #prose #inkdropk
Took myself on a walk – to remember
happy times, when a group of us
went a wondering to places far and wide
places planned, and journeys grand
remembering a mate, and wondering why
it was far too early to say goodbye
A summer morning, Worsley woods, west of Manchester
the sun just peaking through the nest of trees
circle of tents in various spots
and a scout leader starting the beginnings of an altar fire
little faces pop out of the niger tents to grab a view
breakfast served at 8 am sharp
but first, a mug of tea
some make a break for the toilet block
as sausage and eggy bread sizzle in a pan
orders given to the sous chef … he keeps his eye on the food
and slowly the camp leader makes his way to the pole
and all stand still in observance
the flag is released from its bonds
and flies high in the gentle breeze , proudly to attention
and all present give a salute
before breakfast is served
Salford 18th March 2018
Anyone who’s read the “First Day at School” piece on here, will know how in my first year at High school – i ended up in Needlework for form.
Well, during the school week that year – as well as your regular stuff from English and Maths, Geography, History and all….we had craft lessons and this took us from Woodwork to Pottery.
But before we could get into the really messy stuff. We had to do the basics
and this meant making a pencil case from scratch
They were all standard size – and made from one standard tartan fabric,
the inner pocket – we could choose a colour from a selection and attached it to the tartan before creating the cases over all shape
I still have memories of lads in their craft aprons yelling out after being stabbed by a stray pin. For me, my Achilles heel was getting the thread in the needle
Once attached, we were shown how to operate the sewing machine
As i put my foot to the pedal – i watched as the fabric slowly formed into the case
Then the decorations and fixings went on – biased binding, riff-raff braid in all colours and velcro and pop-studs
It took a few sessions to master, but when i finished i’d created something i’d be proud to take into the rest of class with
Salford, 9th February 2018
Plants need looking after when they’re little.
I remember , as a lad being given three packets of seed by my Grandad.
they never told me what was in those silver packets
but each day i’d go to my spot by the lawn, to see what popped out of the ground
and with watchful eye, my mum and dad helped me sort the weeds from the plants
whilst i watered the soil, when the clouds weren’t dropping the rain
and each day, slowly but surely, the little seeds grew
flowerheads hid away till the sunshine appeared
and on those days i’d water them with my watering can…
then one day the flowerheads opened
and a square of reds, pinks, oranges , yellows and blues surrounded the lawn
Every memory can be triggered
Veils of happy tears and wonderful times at an
Occasion such as a cousins wedding
Kept safe in the head until
Engaged by a sight , sound or even a smell
