Dancing cherries

As I sat alone in a wine-cafe (yes, such a thing exists!), swirling & sipping a glass of something red & chewing chilli-seasoned olives while listening to Sleeping at Last I penned this oh so short poem:

Cherries swirling,

Hands held, smiles open,

Dancing around the glass;

Spinning together til

Dizzy with delight as they take turns

Sliding down steep sides with

Warmth and gentle power.

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Sitting at the beach

No one questions why someone is sitting,

Empty handed,

By themselves,

At the sea.

We know.

At the sea,

We understand

this act of

Being

with one’s thoughts.

But.

Bizarrely.

Doing that in a cafe in London makes

people will think you’re a weirdo.

Brighton Beach, 26.5.19

Face towards the sun

A car-park poem. (Got your attention!)

I sketched this after three minutes just standing in the car park outside my work building last Thursday. Such was my need for sun on my face and soul.

A deep, visceral need.

By myself, eyes closed, just standing.

Image: Pinterest

NLB

face towards the sun,

feet planted firmly.

Wind blowing,

whole body shaking,

feet planted firmly;

shaking not falling.

Face towards the sun,

eclipsed by the passing cloud,

Sun re-revealed,

smile spreading,

sun blessing.

Feet planted firmly,

face towards the sun,

as clouds and wind blow.