Wet wednesday

Wet wednesday

Wet wednesday


On the edge of dismal

Insistent fugue of rain-drops

On glass that stares at the grey beyond

And something in me says,

‘this is not so bad’

Because, the closing-in

Can be satisfying

Can be a call to arms

A re-ordering of energy



Still it rains

And I am somehow appraised of ‘small’

Of how this feeling of being condensed

Is comforting. I am safe

Of how lucky I am to be locked-in

To all of this

This symmetry around a void

Where gratitude seeps in

And the water does not stain.

A cup of tea

A cup of tea

A cup of tea

I salute the deep swells

Of an ocean that rolls

It’s hunger audible. Sucking. Heaving.

The breath, then the rasp of shingle

Dragged across the palate

That moment of calm, when

I imagine the stomach is full


Before another lunge below the moon

Announces gravity will not wait

And sailors bob on waves

Duty bound, flung in a dance

A flamenco of spray and romance

And me,

So far in land that this

May or may not be happening

But it matters not

Because it satisfies my minds eye.

Thames. River-side

Thames. River side

Thames. River side

I see the river and ache

I love this place

This manor, in which I am a lordly presence

Mine now and memories

But all the familiar smells

The scope of my nostalgia

This safety

Is it vanity?

Would I vouchsafe it all

Glibly, for golden sands in the Grenadines

Pose with chromatic lenses above a cocktail

Dream sweep a panorama “of it all”

In that am I shallow?

These feelings come to me

Disturb me because I need

Truth and beauty

I fear decay. Any wanton loss

Any light that shines upon

My frailty

All the lies and half-truths

That have bled from me

They are stains

Rust around the lettering

The messages I see.