It’s the Cornish air
grandma used to say, that’s why
I sleep like a log.
by Scooj
Tag: poem
Clearance
.
It isn’t easy
sifting through another’s life;
once loved, discarded.
.
by Scooj
Exeter Racecourse
.
Swallows hug the turf
darting with great precision
past rails and fences.
.
by Scooj
Girl with a pierced eardrum
Serenely you gaze
across the floating harbour
when you catch my eye.
by Scooj
Photograph taken with a compact zoom from the other side of the floating harbour. Street art by Banksy.
It really has been rather lovely weather
.
When it rains again
we’ll forget these sunny days;
fickle memory.
.
by Scooj
Sunday tea time
.
Winding down, take five,
time out from a busy day;
cup of tea, bench, sun.
.
by Scooj
Fledgling fodder
.
A convulsing mass
of tiny caterpillars;
great peril awaits.
.
by Scooj
Clothes moths
Unwelcome hatch of
malevolent marauders
chomping through my clothes.
by Scooj
Rose chafer
Emerald thunder
crashing through the shrubbery
sweet sound of summer.
by Scooj
Fly catcher
Bounding through long grass
ear tips and tail mark the way
Ruben out hunting.
by Scooj
Natural adventures 