The Inkwell
#Poetry #Flight #writeclub
like a host of enthusiastic raindrops
passing the window with colour
like an apple and pear
racing to reach the grass below
like that fruit
falling into a copper pan and resting on a pie crust
like a host of travelling blossoms
moved along by the wind
like a worm dropping
from a newly owned nest
like a bird hopping off a roof
to catch that worm
like a suitcase on a travelator
on a brand new expedition
like a new adventure
under sunny skies, off across the sands
They’re off on a journey
Travelling by air
Through skies of blue
The destination – yet unknown
That depends on the breeze they chase
The arrival time – when the wind drops
Then they’ll take a siesta, in
The nearest spot of soil
Till time awakens them all and
Their new flowers appear
They may be called “Weeds” but
There’s more to these wildflowers
They’re Bright yellow Dandelions – watch them roar!
#wdys
Something strange in
these sun covered streets,
there’s no one around but the locals
the medicine man said stay at home
so in centrally heated houses
they stay
away from the sun covered shores
the artworks and postcards
sit solitary
while cafe sombreros
swing in the soft summer breeze
with no one to hear the tower clock
but the shopkeepers
#writeclub #breakfast
Up all night
travelling in their magnificent chariot
making their way to their destination
Thinking of breakfast
Driving to Penzance
from John – o – Groats
looking to fill the stomachs and throats
Thinking of breakfast
Dropping off cargo, at a rendezvous point
all the time thinking, of a roasted lamb joint
or bacon or sausage – a hash brown or three
washed down with Orange juice or perhaps ice tea
Making the regulation breaks on the way
in the services he’ll sit and he’ll stay
Bacon and sausage on plates – can they do?
No, so tween four bits of wholemeal he’ll chew
#writeclub #adventure
A car is not an Adventure
though it could just get you there
saving you the shoe leather
or even the bus fare
It gets you there from A to B
using the various road and track
Travelling down endless steel railed paths
and buckets of flattened tarmac
It’d be great – if it got you to places
without needing a top-up or three (to be frank)
but it just gets you to the nearest station
on a single tank
so as you head down the highway
in search of your seaside abode
your chariot is eating your fish and chips
as it burns down the road
#writeclub #listpoem
Adventure comes
from a small leather case
stepping onto the plane
and heading to a place
well out of normal reach
definately not your
normal nearby beach
imagining how happy you will be
sat with your mum on dad – on a spot by the sea
#Food #Greek #Dish #Beef #Cinnamon
An acrostic, written in honour of a dish i enjoyed a lot of during my travels to the greek islands.
Served up in a traditional greek pot
Traditionally cooked up with beef, tomatoes and onions
It’s usually served up with some sort of pasta
Fresh bay leaves, cinnamon
And all spice give it its authentic flavour
Dry red wine goes as a good accompanient
Of course – if you want it with chips – the chef will be happy to provide them
#fowc #trinkets
Tiny little things
reminding you of places
in the UK or abroad where you
navigated towards on holiday
kept mementoes of
events in time
tallied together
so you don’t forget them
The golf pro landed the ball
downhill
all seemed well
that was until
aided by the grass or on its own
perhaps by wind it was blown
down the slope , and into a trap
into the sand, in a moments snap
the ball was rescued by his sand wedge
only to find its self back on the ledge
and on this slightly windy day
he watched, as his ball down the hill, rolled away
#MLMM
She’s Waiting
She’s Waiting by the platform
She’s Waiting for a Train
She’s Waiting for the train
She’s Waiting for a particular train
but for now – She’s Waiting
She’s waiting to get to a place on the coast
a place as a child she enjoyed the most
a place that was way off from metropolis rain
a place in the sun that you travelled to by train
tickets all booked,
bags all packed
waiting on the platform – relaxed
listening for the sound of the choo-choo horn – Maxed
While waiting.
The Inkwell