I love my beautiful cello.
He’s a very melodious fellow!
His sound is round and rich and mellow.

My cellos’s a good foot taller than me,
Yet we have a certain chemistry.
A wonderful, magical synergy.

Sometimes I play with restraint and control,
Sometimes I play a particular role,
But always, I speak to your soul

A table top,
Polished glass,
An inverted reflection
Of the building
Above and beyond it.
Clear, unfractured.
Somehow more perfect
Than the building itself.

I’m a fisherman in Yuangshuo,
I set forth and assess the river’s flow,
Then throw my nets to make my catch,
Each angler has his own small patch…
And so, fate’s willing, by the end of the day,
My fish will pay my family’s way…

They built this bridge an age ago,
To get from place to place.
It’s like walking on a rainbow,
Like stepping in to space.
The bridge is one side of a bay,
It spans from shore to shore,
I rush across, don’t like to stay,
‘Cause heights I do abhor!
The view beyond is mile on mile
Of endless open sea,
Yet if you stop atop a while,
You can relish the scenery.

Swim out at night,
Warm waters,
Pitch black sky.
Tread water patiently,
Waiting for sunrise.
The soft brush of waves,
Lapping into shore,
Floc-floc.
And there it is,
The perfect wave,
Taken as the sun starts to climb,
Gold dust.

Photo “Gold Dust” by Clark Little, taken offshore Oahu, Hawaii.

Seven sisters,
Each one an artist,
Each one wrapped tight against the chill,
Each absorbed in a different craft.
Seamstress,
Potter,
Writer,
Artist,
Poet,
Singer,
And the eldest,
The surrogate mother,
A cook, a kitchen alchemist,.

I love the geometric design of this fabulous building,
It’s grandeur yet it’s simplicity,
It’s beauty and it’s grace.
It is like a soul laid bare,
Strong yet fragile,
Magnificent.
And I give it scale on my bike.

From the youngest age, the kitchen was
Simply the best place to be because
It was full of strange and wondrous things
Like colanders and rolling pins!
I could spend hour after happy hour,
Filling bowls and sifting flour.
By 5 I’d learned how best to bake,
And made myself a birthday cake.
I love that sense of alchemy,
When cooking a meal, or brewing tea,
I may look meek but when I bake I’m wild,
I’m the archetypal Flour Child.

I really loathe the laundry,
It’s something I abhor!
All that stain removal,
Pre-soak, you know the score!
Alongside doing hoovering,
It’s a really boring chore!

But something that has cheered me up,
Is buying loads of pegs,
Something bright and cheerful,
With which to hang my kegs.
So here’s my splash of orange, blue,
Of yellow, green and red!

I thought I’d take a little stroll,
But then I found this convenient leaf,
And a splendid parasol,
To propel me across the perils beneath.

It is difficult for a very tiny snail,
To make his way across a pond,
But today I have found this novel way to sail,
And this impromptu boat of which I am rather fond!