I was drowning when I wrote this,
please excuse me if the words are blurred…
I was there at Bosworth Field
when I waved ‘goodbye’ to Richard the Third.
I was lonely as a cloud
approached me and it asked the way;
I didn’t know where I was,
so I sent him off to Carbis Bay.
Off to Looe Island
Off to the island,
an adventure to find;
a voyage by boat;
we love when we float;
we wouldn’t like it
if we were to sink.
Yet another rainy day haiku from the mind of one who has recently been rained down upon more than a Summer season should reasonably allow.
Looking out windows,
seeing the pourtentous sky
A Seagull Haiku
Peck, peck – chip? No – peck;
strut, launch, fly, scan, detect, plan;
wait… wait… swoop! Reward.
The Old Hall Bookshop, Looe.
Out of the madness of milling pools of humanity,
into the quiet of a calm and needed sanctuary,
stepping from the uncomfortable
into the sublime,
be it for the shortest amount of time.
I perch upon a sofa and breathe in
the outpourings of so many authors’ words,
and I becalm.
Standing at the Gate.
I lean on the gate
and survey the world;
at least, the world within my grasp;
for there is much more than that beyond
my gaze, beyond my ken;
but what I have, I clasp.
We’d really love to go to Looe;
but, we have other things to do.