Reflection

Poetry

#fowc #reflection

Who’s that looking at you

As the image looks back

The image seems familiar

Except of course when

Ripples move across the way

My My! who is that, I call out

Inspecting the visage needing the

Razors attention in the morning

Ripples occur in the sink as the blades go in and

Out of the warm water

Razor cut hairs floating on the surface

Bridges

Poetry

A poem by inky, originally appeared on Allpoetry.com

Feel free to tell us your thoughts.

Mariners Canal Bridge, Salford Quays
Mariners Canal Bridge, Created with my old OLYMPUS Digital Camera

They created a crossing
over the river, that bended, bobbed and weaved
gave it nice hot shiny rivets, to hold it together
ending with a lick of paint to make it shiny
then as the builders worked on their plots
houses and houseboats appeared by the canalside
even a big ship or three
resting by the side of the water, so

when a new road was needed
over the water a new crossing went, the
road going over the water with ease. Opened by the
king, queen or some other noble, they noticed the
incredible way the bridges worked aiding
naval ships and big trading vessels to
get from a to b with ease

Cold Water

Poetry, Water

Coldwater

My latest piece for Allpoetry.com

which I’ve decided to share with you all….enjoy

Fresh from a Lakeland reservoir
turned over by occasional waterfall
a polar bears delight
particularly in winter season

Hitting the receptacle crisply
it creates a bubble or two at the bottom
bringing out the flavour
of the drink it dilutes

Refreshment in Hot days
as well as cold
delivering fruitiness to the taste buds
like an bullet express train

Do you want it colder ?
then leave it in the fridge
or make it frosty instantly
with a couple of ice cubes

The wheels turned

Food, Industrial, Life, Poetry

waterwheel.jpg

Museum of science and industry, castlefield, Manchester.

Inky’s thoughts on the waterwheel

Watching the water

turning the wheel

that moved the gears

that moved the cogs

which turned the stones

that milled the grain

to make the flour

that went into the bread

sold in the shops

the very next morning

Stalagmites and stalactites

Poetry

The water moves on

Through the open mouth

Of the mountain cave

As the water drips

And occasionally drops

On the rocks it stops

Adrift from the rain

Now clinging to the rock

Dragons canines shine

Little creatures cling

To the old mighty dragon

Safety in numbers

As moonlight shines on

Each pearly white, the minerals

Hold on for dear life

Seagulls Lament

Animals, Birds, Breakfast, Character, Poetry

#Promptuarium

ow

I suppose you thought that was funny ?

here I am sat by the bins

enjoying what could be my only meal for miles

and you decide to disturb my breakfast

Innocently enjoying the fish in the box

then over my foot comes this big heavy rock

expecting me to just fly away

I was too busy eating – no time to play

If I were human – I might have had words

but thing is being feathered – I’m only a bird

you wouldn’t want my beak coming round you to peck

so why use a big stone – I could have broke my neck!

I should count myself lucky – it wasn’t from a gun….

but disturbing my breakfast – wasn’t much fun

so i’ll return the favour – when you come back from the shop

expect something to land – coming down with a plop!

La Mer

Character, Poetry

21st July 2018

#Sea #Mer #Water

Take me to the sea.

It’s the blue stuff most of the sea creatures rely on

It’s home for the whale, the shark and even the dolphin

(though you’ll never see the dolphin taking its waters)

forever being topped up by mother nature

and the clouds in the skies

What its favourite pastime ? Creating waves

If the boats want to take them on – let them

Navigating their way by sail to unseen treasures

Down in the deep

Singing in the rain

Clouds, Poetry, Weather

#In light of the lack of a fresh writing prompt – i’ve poached this one from the wordpress e-book – 365 Writing prompts….enjoy….inky.#

Salford 16th June 2018

Inclement is how the weathermen would have put it

the weather itself couldn’t make its mind up

the sun was out – the birds were tweeting – and everyone was content

that was of course till two sets of clouds collided into one another

and slowly, but surely, small waterdrops began to fall from the sky

pitter pattering into puddles – easily covered by peoples umbrellas

until the raindrops sped up – and turned into stairrods

filling up birdbaths and heading for waterways

the quickest way they could

ladies and gents diving for cover under the nearest shelter

till quick as it arrived – the stairrods departed

and cotton-wool clouds replaced the grey ones

while birds enjoyed the relax

in a pool provided by the cloud