Joyce Barrass's Blog, page 35

WAITING TILL WORDS

SPIRAL

Photo credit and thanks: Pixabay

STINKING IRIS

REMOTE

Photo credit and thanks: Tookapic & Pexels
And in plainer text for those who struggle with certain font colours:

REMOTE
You scan the flat horizonFlinging your arms at one with the waving tree;Following fluff and fleece, eyes wonder-wide,Dreaming tickle of fur on nosetipThrill of cuddle and throbYou giggle at this Gambolling gallery Flush with the wallCavorting in HDColours bright As pixels can paint.You spread your armsTo scoop and squeezeScampering into your flockBut your knuckles knock At a cold hard screen.Window on worldsOr fabricating fibber?You sob exasperation.Remote in hand,In heart, remoter.

THIS THOUGHT THINKS

Silly socks: author's own

ADJUSTING THE BOB

Written while adjusting the pendulum bob on my old Napoleon's Hat clock (pictured) which was starting to gallop too fast. I'm a bit of an antique clockoholic!

SURVIVAL SKILLS

Shelter in Wickersley Wood (Author's photo)

Sleeping under owl whoop and twizzling twig,
Sleet kisses my teeth as I hitch and curl,
Sleeves rolled up from woodcraft graft,
I lie and listen for fun and laughs.

Downtown on a freezing bench that brands
A pressure cross on weary backs,
Where whoops are derision from cuss-curled lips,
A sister slumps, a brother lies
In their dignity under hostile skies.

I shrug off my camping, survival skills,
Safe to return to my roof and bed;
The moon that smiles on my makeshift den
Turns her broken back to the cardboard tents,
Turns the bundled souls into silver ghosts,
While the wind turns her blade on her own shrill throat.

WAXING

TREADING WATER

Photo credit and thanks to Matt Hardy from Pexels

UNPLUGGED