here’s a line for you

here’s another line for you 

mind how you go now

 in the spawning pool

a frog with the biggest smile

head above the crowd

 first comes one fish

and then come another fish

so are my thoughts

 time and again

my thoughts keeps turning

the waterwheel

buds 

on each chimney pot

a crow with a twig 

 suddenly 

we notice 

the slow change

 upon looking

if this was my last view

would i regret it

 procreation 

the apogee of one’s time

everything else is recycling

 to trespass

is to learn the why

of the fence

 sunday morning

bitumen the shed roof

pray no more leaks

 starry sky

the smoke from a chimney

on Christmas Eve 

all that is time

a particle of light arrives

from the distant past 

 global heating

the latest stocks and shares

antarctic ice melts

 sometimes 

the sun shines

right in

 shinning

in the rain

pebbles

 travelling backwards

lost in my reflection’s 

train of thoughts

 we are only lost if we believe there is something to be found

 green policies

recycling the belief

that we can stop this

the unpopular belief

in overpopulation 

 all over wales

winter’s tired eyes refreshed

dew on daffodils

 snow

on the temple bell

ringing fingers

 little boy

a big icicle to melt

his mother’s heart

 suburban

on a wet lamppost

a wet pigeon

 in the temple of the cat

the blossom snoozes

as the wood warms

 third mug of tea

nodding a smile

to the rain daffodils

 the wind’s surprise

through a hole in a gate post

plays elgar 

 rip tide

across a bank of sands

a railing moon

and the doleful sound 

of the mixen bell

 coast path 

the doleful sound 

of the mixen bell

 around a fallen tree

footfall makes a new path 

deep in the woods

 finding frogspawn 

believing in tomorrows 

all our yesterdays

 time to sleep

after one more poem

i promise myself 

the snow falls

in the lantern’s light

it seems heavy 

 taken by the sea

nothing else exists

except dry land

 darkness is falling

thicker the mist is falling

this wet evening

 poetry

the coexistence of two minds

in one body of work

 a lonely face 

drowned in the sea’s wave 

my thoughts go with you

the snow falls 

when the daffodils open

then bluebells 

 rain

the sun comes out

white surf

 winter ends and

there is still one shrivelled plum

on the budding tree

 third mug of tea

where the trees stir in the mist 

a daffodil opens

this lifestyle 

what if you are wrong

i asked 

we only have one life

do we the monk replied 

 moving memories 

as told in the shadows

of the morning sun

 the hushed mornings

are slowly running out

on spring’s breath

 how nice it is to have a mind to play in

 doubloons and pieces of fate

 the setting sun

a lone bird travels east

everything roosting

 last winter leaf

an oak on a spring morning 

the paths taken

 see the enigma 

the likeness of the lichen

on a tomb’s beard 

 St David’s Day

Eating the leeks on their lapels

Welsh school boys

after a cold swim

warming yesterday’s soup

with crusty rolls 

 a naughty boy

pulling off daisy petals

to make a propeller 

 after a long swim

an even longer sleep

dinner time

robin

arrives the branch bobs

gone 

~~~

robin arrives 

the branch bobs

gone 

~~~

robin arrives the branch bobs gone

the snail

ate the love letter

thickening its shell 

 all these rough seas

i ask myself could i swim there

time lines tide lines

 the click bait trap snaps

if you ever wriggle free

bits will be missing

Sue’s blood test

there are no veins to puncture

on this frosty morning

 how silly

that something matters

when nothing does

 sea mist

the boats appear 

to disappear 

 marram grasses

the blown anonymity 

of shifting dunes

 at each page refresh

the death toll rises further

after shocks 

there wasn’t 

a picture there 

so i took it

 rest your hands

upon the stone cold wall

and dream of me

 done and dusted

the grains of this fingerprint 

spells bleak 

 in silhouette 

one finger of land points home

as the sun departs

bookends 

a married couple

on a sunny day 

 just the cat 

sitting in the sunshine 

looking at me

 and in the wren rush

through the fluttering of leaves

his drizzle thickens

 mist over mumbles 

the end of the pier show

the moody blues

 moonlight 

on the bridge to the mountain 

snow has fallen

 third mug of tea

from the daffodil mug

spring has sprung 

 earring aids

are hermit crabs 

no brainer

 a dream stone

having slept in the waves

becomes the waves

 third mug of tea

a tannin coloured fox 

crosses the garden