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!

My world is monochrome,
It’s black and white,
Or shades of grey.
A place of forbidden fruit,
Of persecution.
I do not question,
I just do as I’m told.

My world is monochrome
It’s black and white,
Or shades of grey
Colour only exists to forbid.
Don’t think,
Don’t speak,
Don’t enter.

But today I choose to non-conform!
Today j choose to paint my world,
Just a little,
Today I choose to be different.
Today I carry colour,
Not just in my heart,
Or head,
But on my person too…
Take cheer from my small rebellion!

Row on row of poplar trees,
Stretching as far as the eye can see,
And me, in this surreal frieze,
Breaking this awesome symmetry…

The bridge stretched on and on and on,
Ma strange, repetitive phenomenon,
And ended beyond vision, who knows where,
Apparently, at a point in pure, thin air.,
A thing if beauty, a thing of grace,
Designed to take me from place to place,
With subtlety, beauty, simplicity,
Yet also with great economy.
I’ll follow the lights to the other side,
Whilst enjoying every inch of the glorious ride.

Step into this sylvan glade,
And see the world anew,
Light, in a divine cascade,
Gives a mystic, silver hue.

In this favoured hideaway,
This lush, clandestine space,
My spirits rise, like a soufflé,
My special, secret place…