Running, running,
Our kites streaming out,
Behind us,
And the sand,
Soft, comfortable,
Beneath our feet.
And the race,
To see who reaches
The bottom of the sand dune first.
Joyful! Fantastic!
FUN!

We lead simple lives.
We ask only for a little bounty
From these waters
To feed our children.
We take only enough to feed the village
What we have, we share.

Photo may be subject to copyright

If I reach up very tall,

And stand on tippy toes,

I might just catch you.

Blown on a breeze,

In a continuous stream.

Delicate

Transparent,

Beautiful.

Perfect spheres of possibility,

Exploding with colour,

Where the sun catches you,

You make me feel joyful,

That the world is alive.

Bubbles!

PE793,
Listing at low tide,
Out in the harbour.
A boat built for action,
She looks somehow forlorn,
As she waits to set to sea.
Yet she is also magnificent,
Brushed as she is,
With the purple, orange and pink,
Of sunset.

Photo may be subject to copyright.

I feel like I’m walking into a tree,
Not hitting my head,
But actually emerging inside it!
This extraordinary place is a hotel,
And I feel like a hobbit!

Photo may be subject to copyright.

A small clump of trees,
Planted with foresight,
So they would grow together,
And lend each other their limbs and leaves,
To create a delicate, beautiful horse tree.

Photo may be subject to copyright

This clever picture gives you pause,
It clearly has no obvious flaws.
It stretches your mind and makes you think,
You’re tempted to make just one eye blink.
With just some strokes of black and white,
She has set your imagination alight.
Body paint at it’s very best,
A diverse beauty well expressed.

Found at d-iulia.deviantart.com
d-iulia.deviantart.com/art/…

Wind in the sails
And the sound of the boat
Cutting through the water
Like a knife.
Exhilaration!

The Russian royal family really needed an heir,
But four young princesses brought panic and a certain despair,
To Tsar Nicholas and Tsarina Alexandra Romanov
Till Alexei appeared, the boy they dreamed of.
Why did your mother treat you like
young ingenues?
Was a life of seclusion the kind that you’d choose?
Carol of Romania was chosen for Olga to wed,
But the nineteen year old had other ideas instead,
He had bedded so many women in his debauched life,
Olga decided she was never consenting to be his wife.
The girls had crushes on men in the imperial guard,
But meeting suitors was extremely hard.
They ended their sad lives bayoneted and shot,
And one has to ask, precisely for what?
So they wouldn’t be martyrs, as Lenin foretold.
When they died, the oldest, Olga, was just 22,
And had had no life to speak of, this sad ingenue.

Image may be subject to copyright.

OK! I’m disgruntled,
Don’t know what to do,
I’m one big conundrum,
I’m in the midst of review,
Of quite what I’ll choose,
As my future career,
An expert at IT?
A cool engineer?
I think I will settle
For a job in design,
Interactive and fast-paced,
The future is mine!

Nicola Scutt
Photo: Tania Scutt