The steep sweet meadows
now clad in deep mountain snow
softly summon me.
by Scooj
The steep sweet meadows
now clad in deep mountain snow
softly summon me.
by Scooj
Pack up the boxes
an eleven month slumber
in the loft awaits.
by Scooj
I’m bracing myself
for the overdue sequel
with Emily Blunt.
by Scooj
Cold feet, muddy paws
white, numb fingers, muddy paws
ball games in the park.
by Scooj
These non-descript days
file by unloved unwanted
January blues
by Scooj
Curtains of white mist
hide the ghosts of winters past
skulking in the wood.
by Scooj
These gossamer threads
untroubled by passing feet;
natural wonder.
by Scooj
.
For many reasons
a year not to celebrate;
time to look forward.
.
by Scooj
Gentle emergence
from the mists of Bodmin Moor
to the streets of home.
My mind fixed on the former
though my body has returned.
by Scooj
Unexplainable
stench of hydrogen sulphide
assaults our senses.
by Scooj