food bank

the prince and princess

bring a can    ‘t

 food bank

the prince and princess

bring a tin

 high speed train

we arrive at incompetence 

earlier than planned

 high wind

the fennel has fallen

across the viola

 house work

i’ve started so

i’ll fetish

 social media

every cat is named

click bait 

 and there you are

saddled with it forever 

riding it into a receding 

 Trump

our belief is on hold

interminably 

 on the road of life

there are many hostels

rest easy at each one

 breaking news we are broken

 big kids

i can throw the furthest 

memories

 asleep fast thoughts

awake fast thoughts

the long slow tunnel

 unruly air

the mountain pines fail

to comb the clouds

 crying with the gulls

on the west wind’s shoulder

i am blown away 

 barley sugar

the sun twists our evening 

hand in hand

 wine dew 

looking like ten slugs

my ten toes

 lost in my thoughts

a wren rips rips them all up

into peace

 the moment when

the movement of a leaf

became a sparrow

 Montmartre 

every artist is Vincent’s

harvest of time

every vase his sunflowers

every canvas their sunflowers

 a jay a jay

a flash of sky blue

in the dark woods

 splashing

the recycling lorry

flashing 

 haiku

from the empty auditorium 

one hand clapping 

 Premium Bonds

even more not to win

for no gain again

 facing each other

two mums pushing swings

chatting the time

Caitlyn B Young

 This is the Spotlight profile page for my granddaughter Caitlyn B Young who is an actor:

https://app.spotlight.com/8135-0165-2361

 briar and bramble 

footsteps of the little ones

smoking their pipes

 long grass

i renamed the cat strimmer

but it made her sick

 tell it to the sea

the west wind is a shoulder

to cry upon

 the apocalypse (is it)

it is (going to hurt)

un(just for a moment)

 after the rain

sunshine dripping

from the fig tree

 poetry’s apotheosis

that rising feeling of sinking

the heights of depth

 footsie swim

upon the braille of pebbles

caution surfaces 

 on the coast path

salt torn from the sea

tore the daisies

 headline

aging slower slows aging

official

 arum 

scare um

yellow tongues

 a bandana

hides a multitude 

of chins

 midday heat

the crows take ownership of

the graveyard’s leisure

 modern media

terrible news

watch here

 bless you my son for your telomere is undone

 time

is the bottle’s cork 

weighing it all up

 bedside earrings 

collecting the starlight

of long kisses 

 a naughty magpie 

is stealing the cat’s food

morning’s open door

we never knew that -

playing cowboys and indians 

was genocide  

 grief 

into the depths of the lake

the cataracts thunder

 haiku

the stigmata

of thought

 dandelion seeds

dodging the hoverflies

lazy afternoon 

 i am not a bot

well he would say that

wouldn’t he

 a spider emerging

from behind the oil painting

just hangs there

 mid summer night’s stream

all the bright elvers wriggling

through my fingers

 oh shit

i am so unhappy

there are no pigs in it

there in their mud

the pigs look very happy

oink i say oink

 having seen it

am i now a player

spectator sport

 offering one stone

i see a better stone

goodness me

 the tree that changed its mind

 my schoolmasters’

uproarious nicknames 

are long dead

ultimately was the one word 

that they failed teach me 

 cactus bloom

just what is the point

is answered

 the cat and i 

we have a routine 

me and the cat

 the butterfly’s wings

become one become two

and to think

 death bed

the kite catches the breeze

i follow through

 if there’s a draught

it’s probable an open door

to another room

 one petal fell

cherry viewing is cancelled

just look at the mess