High Tension

Cotton wool clouds dotted sparingly in a powder blue sky

Reeds nestle in the brook, whispering softly in a gentle breeze

Tiny rabbits play on the verge, undaunted by the occasional passing car

Even the distant barking of dogs fails to disturb the tranquillity of the day

But it is disturbed!

A creeping menace crosses this land

Heard beneath the whispering reeds, quieter than the babbling brook

But heard, a low hum, sinister and constant

Metallic giants march across this rural land

Cables strung between them, bunting without flags

No fiesta here, just conflict, nature versus progress

Progress to enable, to move forward, to develop

To feed the addictions of modern life

Where rabbits play on our television screens

and our children play with games consoles

and we talk in cyber space

While our real space is slowly, systematically destroyed

By Progress

Lost in Words

Steeped in other worlds

Dreams of ancient lands

Faraway places

Planets unknown

Magical creatures

Mythical beings

Heroes and Heroines

Wizards, Witches and Monsters

And me

Sharing their worlds

Till the final page turns

Running

Running

Rat race in full swing

Running to stand still

Underpaid, overworked, taxed to the hilt

Two weeks holiday crammed into one

Dreams of escaping fuelled briefly

Shades of grey defining seasons

Light grey where summer blue should be

Winter’s dark and leaden skies oppress

A week’s holiday crammed into a long weekend

Dreams of escaping dimly remembered

Work engulfs, targets raised

Deadlines made and missed

Rumours fly, speculation abounds

A long weekend becomes one day flextime

There was a dream once

Wasn’t there?

Lazy Days

Eyes open slowly

And quickly shut tight

Sunlight too strong to take

Blissful darkness takes over

Snuggled in warm duvet

But the day beckons

Nagging, insistent vamp

Cajoling from slumber

Enticing from dreams

Wakefulness drifts in

Aided by shrill alarm

Hit snooze button, checkmate

The Last Day of Summer

A chill breeze steals the warmth from the sunless day; insidious in its demand for attention.

“Summer’s gone, summer’s dead” seems to be the soft whisper of the breeze, heard beneath the cheerful banter of the last visitors and the ever optimistic drone of ‘Hey Baby’ from the stereo.

Chocolate Surprise Sundaes are rejected in favour of Treacle Sponge and Custard as the day succumbs to the breeze and the chill reaches beyond the beach, past the paseo and slips into the sheltered confines of the terrace. Tugging at turned up collars, denied by the jeans that have replaced shorts, only discarded serviettes paying it scant attention.

Remnants of summer linger, forlorn dog-eared flyers drift into corners of car parks, carelessly discarded ice-cream wrappers blowing like tumbleweed, assisted by that oh so insistent chill breeze; determined to push summer away.

Back out, across the paseo, beyond the beach, the sea joins in the sombre mood of the day. Gone is the blue sparkling light dancing off the waves, replaced with an angry churning grey, like unpolished steel, crashing onto the beach with murky grey breakers.

But far, far out to sea a tiny break in the clouds allows a glimmer of sunlight to trickle through. A tiny ray of hope on the distant horizon.