it is mid summer

the sun is in the bedroom

a brief encounter 

 yellow flower

against a blue wall

on a sunny day

 last day of june 

the windfall apples

woke the cat

 the sitter said

his words were a canvas

that the artist caught

 phoenix 

from the palimpsest 

of names

 rejections

building a wall but

leaving a window

 1955

spider in a banana box

foreign travel

 eye is watering

talking to the tomatoes 

in the greenhouse 

 eventually 

after living

he died

and was forgotten 

eventually 

 obituary 

written on a park bench

time sits heavily 

 marooned

ten thousand moons

jellyfish !

 ten million zillion

washed up jellyfish moons

on a storm beach

 somewhere 

in autumn’s foreign feel

it is forever summer

 after our sake 

we all peed in the pond

the sound of waters

 screening

park in the pay and display 

not two abreast

 always in wales

the armour of named mountains

so near and so far

 this rainy day

longing to be somewhere 

where butterflies jig

 under the lighthouse 

within the curl of a wave

darkness beckons 

 deep

in a dark wood

a bell calls

spring

spring

A wormhole in Wales?

R S Thomas and Dylan Thomas.

In a vortex of words. 

in the cemetery 

a shopping list 

bonus points 

 gone to seed

under the castle walls 

summer grasses

 even now

when the birds are dying

we still sing

 from the past

even the tears have tears

my sons

 every beach

a rock with a name

called local

 breakfast 

breezing the sunday papers 

with lobelia 

 see this

don’t you dare think it

pussy cat

 the slow dance

of this stick’s fallen shadow

is dawning on me

 thunderhead 

on the orange lamppost 

a wood pigeon

 some crows are hanging

in the mist of a sun-moon

like frogspawn

 a broken wheel

off a red wheelbarrow 

on a torn page

 learning their limits

they pushed them further

and became tomorrow

now my aunt said

i can see her now

she said

she is a grown woman

now my lost child she said

 thunder

the cat moves from her sunbeam

onto her chair

 a verse

at the end of a branch

one leaf

 pale sky

see the fast clouds

of tomorrow

 having seen 

the world for what it is

disconsolation 

 one of life’s feathers 

on humour’s trajectory 

a floating raptor

 in the low mist

a gentle rain is closing

distant hammering

 in passing the lament of the last underpass

 my mood

all along the tideline

it explains

 the rooks caw

as the refuse lorry reverses

both speak welsh 

 in between

breakfast and coffee cakes

haiku writing time

 

not wanting to die

he kept both his eyes open

we closed them 

this snow

peeling from the sky

tangerines

the cat’s back

presented with aplomb

so now you know

hot night

no bedclothes 

curtains open 

spider

where are you going tonight 

my friend

 morning cherries

visiting birds are shitting

on a pink Buddha 

 warm cherries

just right in the morning sun

here taste one

 that rat again

in the saucepan cupboard 

has nibbled the soap 

 rushing to an exhibition 

of myself by myself

alone

 i could be

before the death pops up

toast

 petrol fumes

the neighbour’s gardener

cuts her hedge

it grows so much these days

it must be global heating

 jellyfish 

mistaking a swimmer’s breast

rash judgement

 Good God no He said to Himself

 our two tears

running down morning’s window

recombine

 we are making time

i the pendulum of you

making time for me

 the fence

fell into the bay

during a storm

 sea breeze

slipping through my fingers

memories

 sunrise 

stroking the cat

and the pagoda

 will someone read it

on a distant world one day

this poem

 life is all about

the movement of the waters

so many disguises 

 old lady

telling an old lady

sometimes they don’t work

 june ~ all is green apples brown sparrows

 fishy

a chip on my shoulder

deep afraid

 sea wall

rambling rose

wet evening

 there was this poet

walking along a time line

meeting many friends

 i mean 

how can i lose a pocket

- that’s my coat!

 counterpoint

being alone with the sea

together

 after the rain

the cobwebs shine

briefly

 retrospective 

so many ways of being

foolish

 reflecting

upon a reflection

inadvertently 

 the sea sometimes 

listening in the mist

is just enough

 poppies

by the red post

tall grass

 a tall story is

running out of memory

when time is short

 a stranger

taking tea with me

is soon my friend

floating under the tor

on a summer’s day

life at full tide 

 high summer 

nettles 

at a gate

high summer 

tall grasses

superseded 

the flies

in this field

have never seen a city

the flies

on this beach

have never seen a city

steep path

a breath in my shoe

shiny rocks 

 dusk

a dog starts barking

lone seagull

 conversations

in the beer garden 

plastic flowers

 the sun

reflecting off my tea

into the lobelia

 in a town 

called serendipity 

windows

 storm

does the moth see the rain

or feel the motion

is it seeking the light

that is dancing for you

 they will say

the complete poems

one day

 after all

it’s only a place

we return to

a reproduction 

of a counterfeit 

probably isn’t

the initial journey

taken by so many

won by one

 they sit there still

memories under the trees

of a punt arriving

 and yet i love them

the door step orphan poems 

cup of tea?

 finishing 

considering a journey

is a start

just closer

yesterday further away

longing longer

 a little tree

can have a big shadow

in the right light

 five o’clock

all the bikes lined up

in the nursery

along the fence

rattling a sticK

back to my childhood 

hot day

under the castle walls

yellow flowers

above the red tiles

the shadow of a gate

has stopped

above the arum lilies 

white clouds have stopped

my walk

 abdominal aorta 

the pool in my belly button 

sinus rhythm

 surfer the little chilblains to come unto the sea

 i am shivering

in a predicted heat wave

- weather forecaster?

 my followers

it’s what follows that counts

the love of your words

 the die is cast

in the rolling hills of perception 

grey matters

 the pathologist 

in the library

is turning corners

 mum

the thesis of eternity

reoccurring 

well meaning

lower your expectations 

and raise a smile

 sunrise

and the pagoda

is moving

 downwards

no solace in the solstice

of this turning 

chance encounter 

in the castle orchard

- a poet! 

 tea bags in the pot?

is the toaster switched on?

seventy three

 all of those shells

slowly becoming sand

for my toes

 paintbox 

summer has coloured me

in scent

 daisies 

between the gravestones 

spring turns to summer 

 in a sunny spot

a wood pigeon waiting

to die

 that song

tweaking the neurones

of was

 the end of days

you know the saddest thing

no one will ever know

 light falls the same

on the pollen grasses

and fecund nettles

 down the other side

of the bell curve of life

my painful shoulder

 kaleidoscope 

the normal things of morning

simply are not

 such lunacy is

the gift of childhood given

to an old man

 it was a lie

i was sold yesterday 

as tomorrow 

 to a child

a puddle is an ocean 

setting sail

 everywhere 

a child on a tricycle 

turning

 waves

the familiar anonymity 

of these thoughts

 sparrows

nesting in the temple

shitting everywhere

 a child

at the very edge of lost

discovers

the meaning of home

the meaning of leaving

 after her swim

the girl checks her smart phone

the dumb tide goes out

plum haiku

a sparrow 

is pecking greenfly 

in our plum tree

my plum tree

who will own it

when i am dead

plums ripening 

hurry up please 

?tomorrow"

reaching up

to the bending plum tree

at harvest time

last year

there were so many

plums 

  strimmer

is insisting 

i listen

 deep sea

high above

thoughts

 a gift

from a poet to a poet

a poem

 there is that place

and you know where it is

where we always go

 the waitress with big tits

is trying to balance a huge tray 

oh i say ~ careful now!

 oh dear oh dear me 

i’ve missed the whole jubilee 

but never mind eh

 this painting is

so good that i need not look

for i know it

 four cats

why four art thou

• go away 

 cardboard

all the way from the amazon 

dawn delivery

 sweeping up leaves

the sunspots where they lie

dappling thoughts

 defibrillator 

on the church wall graffiti 

~ Lazarus 

 dear god

i just slept longer than the cat

~ big swim

 the scientist 

with tattoos and piercing

peer reviewed

 the cat

is washing over her ears

- visitors!

 even when relaxed

washing all her cares away

always alert

 the honours

for they who want no honours

but are honoured

 to do list

i seem to have lost it

never mind

 i can’t remember 

not having a memory

my child