I looked up

Pointed my camera

And took a shot of the buildings 

Looming over me

All angular

With clean

Straight lines

Black

White

Silver

Building blocks

To life

Lived

© Text Caro Ness 2016

Image © Nat Images

The skies today

Are full of angry cloud. 

Banks of them, 

Stacked one on top of another. 

Threatening, menacing,

And the sweet smell of rain,

Wafts on a stiff breeze

Across the city.

© Text Caro Ness 2016

Truly great grafting history

Was made producing this stunning tree

Forty different fruits, including peach, cherry

A fruit smorgasbord for you and me

© Text Caro Ness 2016

Lying flat on the ground,

Looking up,

Into a canopy of trees,

I have a sense of connection,

With nature,

And my place in it,

And it makes me

Feel humble,

And unimportant.

© Text Caro Ness 2016

Gatsby is a doggy dog

But likes digital telly not analogue

And the one thing he really wants to see

Are dog related programmes on the TV

© Text / Image Caro Ness 2016

They think a box is quite divine,

Like every other cat!

Here they’re protecting a crate of wine,

Well, there’s certainly sense in that!

The one on the right is Calico Pie,

And she thinks that alcohol’s great.

On the left is Harri, she’s very shy,

But her sister’s her very best mate.

Calico loves a jolly good climb,

Up a box, a window, a door.

Harri is clumsy, so takes far more time,

And ends up in a heap on the floor.

Harri will chirrup to find her sister,

And she purrs and purrs and purrs.

She wants to let her know she’s missed her,

‘Cause proximity’s what she  prefers.

Her sister’s agile,  brave and quick,

 And gives anything a jolly good try,

But protects sweet Harry through thin and thick,

‘Cause she loves her, does Calico Pie.

 © Text / Image Caro Ness 2016

I loved

My grandmother’s garden.

It reminded me

Of one of those

Old-fashioned sweet shops.

You know the kind?

With serried shelves 

Of tempting concoctions,

Each one in its own glass jar?

Rhubarb and custard.

Aniseed Twists.

Bulls Eyes.

‘Winter Mixture’.

Her beds are laid out

Not just for colour

And texture

But to tempt

ALL your senses.

© Text Caro Ness 2016

I wouldn’t want to second guess

What will happen to the NHS

If the Tories have their way

For everyone will have to pay.

Not free to each man on the street

But prerogative of ‘the elite’.

Health is something we expect

Our flesh and blood, our intellect

All of it should work with ease

Yet modern stresses bring disease.

And this legacy of 1948,

Should make us fight because it’s great.

It’s open to Tory sly assaults

Because it has its many faults

And reform’s essential, must be faced,

To eliminate all kinds of waste.

So come on people, do your bit!

To the NHS we must commit,

So speak out now, be firm, be LOUD,

The NHS should make us proud!

It’s the envy of num’rous other nations,

So save it for future generations.

© Text Caro Ness 2016

…at night.

Dressed up

Like a sleeping giant,

Waiting to unfold

Its limbs.

Spanning the Thames

With effortless grace

And, at this time of night,

Thanks to numerous lights,

Clarity. 

© Text Caro Ness 2016

© Image : desktopwallpapers.org.ua

I’ve had a really lovely sleep,

It was quality, it was deep.

But now some wretched, horrid din,

 Has woken me, to my chagrin,

If I’m required to bark right back,

The wherewithal I fear I lack.

Sleep still has me in its grip,

So let me finish my lengthy kip!

© Text / Image Caro Ness 2016