{John Clare had a lot to answer for, when he wrote ‘I am’.} Image courtesy of Pixabay.com (creative commons) I long for scenes where sweet goods tread A place where I can stop and stare A place to eat my chocolate spread, to pick and choose from all the fare. I long for scenes where tyrantsContinue reading “Longings”
Category Archives: Beyond My Myddle
Love Thyself
{Inspired by my ancestor William Wycherley’s lust for women of all varieties: ‘For Variety in Love’.} ‘Telephone Pole’ image from Pixabay.com (creative commons) To myself, I am devoted still, I’ll n’er grow bored, or have my fill, ’tis true that in my heart am I, Stuck thick as thieves to my great thigh! My thigh, it’sContinue reading “Love Thyself”
Washed-Out Socks
‘Washed Socks’ by Jay Cool Pink socks, and green, hanging out to dry – mingling into amber. A shade that suits a sallow skin – the ageing flakes of yellowed feet. Shreds and slivers, peels of the past, hanging. Copyright owned by Jay Cool, October 2018
Purple Berry
‘Purple Berry’ photograph by Jay Cool Purple berry’s twisted fate. Dried, dying, dangling, midst cherry pinks. Thirsty channel’s wearied weight Stretched, straining, slipping, t’wards motley greens. Salmon ball-gown’s awkward gait, Flustered, flipping, falling ‘mongst tawny golds. Middling ladies’ tired fate. Dried, dying, dangling midst hoary whites of ageing, ancient, trite old men – the last-chanceContinue reading “Purple Berry”
Guest Preacher
{Based on a childhood memory of an over-zealous guest preacher in an Aberdonian chapel, and further inspired by George Herbert’s poem ‘The Collar’. } ‘Angry Debate’, a clipart image from Pixabay.com He strikes the board. Preacher’s passion’s way. Heed his words, that God does say. Wrinkled hands must dig in deep, unearth the worms from burrows,Continue reading “Guest Preacher”
Love is a Bin
‘Wetherlite in Prado’ by Jay Cool Love is a Bin [A tribute to a lonely-green bin, viewed from a Prado window.] A green bin, super-sized, groans, as old lady swishes by in electric chair; wheels loving the rain. And old man, on pavement over, wheeled and water-eeled – follows on – unknowing, taking over. GreenContinue reading “Love is a Bin”
Lady
{Arrived home, one afternoon in October, to a welcoming party of ladybirds.} Lady Ladies welcome me back, welcome me home, framing my door, sealing my windows, guarding my post. A warning? A storm? Tsunami? A famine? The end? Or the start of tomorrow? Opening my door, I move on through – flying in theContinue reading “Lady”
Sun-Fuelled on the A134
{Egged on by the rising sun, as I confronted the usual early-morning drive to work, on the A134, I felt the compulsion to capture my thoughts in words. Unfortunately, time and the expectations of others, did not allow me to stop by the roadside to take a photograph, or put pen to paper. But, theContinue reading “Sun-Fuelled on the A134”
Salt Waves
‘East Hill, Sudbury’ by Jay Cool [Inspired by a walk up East Hill, in inland Sudbury, after partaking of an excellent brew in Prado Lounge.] Dirty docks, seagulls and chips, fishing nets, trawlers and tankers, drunken sailors and fishermen leering and lurching at ladies, whilst lurking in bars with their pints. Beaches of pebbles, jarringContinue reading “Salt Waves”
Fried in July
The Lynford Stag in July 2018 Spilling forth from Breckland stag, Soldiers swinging, swords of fire, Shouting praises for promised lands. Crunching forth o’er sundried straw, Crackles burning, soles all sore, Citing crazes for conquered lands. Falling forth from sun-singed lips, Flowers frying, at devil’s door Firing curses for shrivelled lands. Deserted. Sands. Copyright ownedContinue reading “Fried in July”
The Silly-Savvy Salopian in Suffolk: read, believe and write ... 