Sunday afternoon sport

In the distance at the park a few trainer-clad, track-suited youths were jeeringly, aimlessly kicking around a small white dog.
I am glad I waited till I drew nearer before making a fuss.
It was a football - and didn't seem to mind

Six word Saturday

My little sparrow
all grow'd up

Early Thursday Haiku

my skylight morning
frames blue cerulean sky
and pink feather clouds

Late March morning

Last clumps of snow
linger, scowling in the hedgerows,
where the blossom should be smiling

Muse...

At the very edge of darkness I hear hesitant hope humming...

'Bereft, bovvered and abandoned...'

So
the muse
has weighed anchor
and left me here
speechless

six-word saturday

Unsettled snow my grey undancing day

Am I shallow...

... I wonder
to take such pleasure
in my new, halfprice sweatshirt -
a metal zip AND big buttons,
grey soft-lined cotton, deep bound pockets

AND a hood

Between the banking clouds...

... at the wind-roaring park today
the sun makes a cameo appearance.
Grateful for the brief respite
we all smile
even the buffeted pigeons
and the barking-mad dogs

haiku for the equinox

Spring dragging its heels

like a recalcitrant child

reluctant to smile

Cold
and wet
forecasts all gloomy
give us a break
Chancellor!

Breakast

Foggy Monday morning
a lone chaffinch feasts
mindfully
at the birdtable.

Lingering over my porridge
i wonder
idly
if he too is composing

his smallstone for the day...

Acrostic-elfje-pun

Elephants 
Like people 
Forgetting proper packing
Juggle their trunks' contents
Endlessly

six-word Saturday (late again!)

I wandered lonely as a daffodil...

Streetview

The city shopfronts are everchanging;
hairdressers morph into coffee-shops
into smart men's clothes-shops -  and back;

two-dimensional rainbow shades of modern life,
and indifferent i sit and watch them change;

Ah -  but the backs of the houses -
higgledy-piggledy jumble of gable-ends and exposed beams
secret attic windows and padlocked ivied gates,

Holding all of history's mystery. these streets can i wander and dream

encounters 9

We stomp through the park, my dog-companion and I, in several layers plus two coats, hat, gloves, scarf.... me that is, not the dog, obviously. Her scruffy fur-coat is in need of a bath and a good groom, but does the job she says.

We meet him swinging along, cigarette in hand, wearing trainers, jeans and a black leather waistcoat, sleeveless and unzipped over a bare chest...

Colder today I say, somewhat foolishly. He doesn't feel cold he replies, somewhat needlessly...

What is his secret? i ask myself, as we move on with our lives - are the tattoos adorning his body thermal?

Yesterday's stone

Surrounded by jeering faces
I am hurtled, unprotesting finally
over the sharp edge of a precipice
to spiral slowly now
a feather...

as the sounds and places of my day recede
I am drawn down
gently in the warm silence
to be enveloped
at last
in sleep

Playing with no punctuation..

Fragile
agile lambs
limbs quivering
shivering storm-
born

Aerial view of Aberystwyth - a postcard

I'd like to say the town lies
sprawling
like a stranded starfish
or a sunbather asleep on the beach.
But it doesn't - it curls
along the coastline, with its knees and elbows tucked
into the estuary and inlets

Like on a cold night or after a bad day,
when our familiar bodies meld together
in sleep

Aberystwyth roofscape

From the hill above the promenade the row of yellow chimneys stretching away is bizarrely like a flight of steps across the roofs - only the puff of smoke from one gives the game away. I feel like Mary Poppins..

An ent-elfje

Treebeard
smiled benignly
this Penglais morning
We returned his greeting
warmly

Sunny Tuesday smallstone

Sweet how the first warm spring day
Brings the smiling girls out into the streets
Prettily-clad in their mauve, white and gold
crocus-petalled skirts

Sunday morning, Aberystwyth

Climbing the steep flint path above the town, I draw deep breaths of the scent of change and possibiity

Journey

Late again! - Yesterday's 6-word stone got delayed after our journey: 

Westward heart-singing, smokey-sweet scents

goldfinches

Peering shortsightedly down the garden this morning I realise the finches are back - the sudden bright flashes in the air around the seedfeeder a giveaway really..
The same sharp flash of gold is in my dog's soft black-feathery ears as she runs windstreaming  in the sun later in the green park