Levels

Above the mist, the grey-green ghosts of Polden elms stand silent over salted fields And somewhere overhead a heron cuts a dead straight path to shining ponds from ages past

Haiku 4: February 21 2012

RS: I adore April Just keep it from May That I long for June TW: I love Mondays And wonder if Monday knows That Tuesday brings death?

Haiku 3: February 20 2012

RS: Springs wild garlic Shaken by frost Practically livid TW: Wallflowers stirring Almost awake to spring sun It's Sunday – to work!

Haiku 2: February 19 2012

RS: Insatiable Henry Slave to dust Sucker TW: Reading housework stuff Stove sighing, needing feeding Very tiring – Shhsssh!

Madrid

I think of Madrid where once we hold hands where we gave each other little kisses like a pecking woodpecker in love with a sap-giving bark. I think of the blue blue sky of Madrid

bugger

She smiled at me across the room, With eyes that shone with deep desire; And whispered hints, of rosebud bloom; That set to plump, my manly fire. With eyes that shone with deep desire,
Cherry

the Muses first position

I met fair-voiced Calliope whilst waiting For a bus. “Clapham!” She bellowed, Ever-so sweetly I might add, with a vain indifference to no one in-particular.

THE CELLIST

500 word short story set in Paris in 1948

Tell the Poor

Many years ago I offered a Christian leaflet to a man with a mobile phone in a suit who said he was too happy to be interested in God.

Give Me Your Soul

The devil comes to ask a new Christian, why can't you be like all the other Christians?

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