Chattering monkeys

Swinging precariously
from branch to dangerous branch,
Balancing distractingly
on the highest reaches of my mind -
Pulling faces...

I coax you down
to the heart's core of safety,
Cradling you
with unwarrented kindness -
Hush now, be still...

Sunday afternoon above Aberystwyth

The bay is as glass today,
silver-blue sea-glass,
muted and still.

Pen Llyn and Ynys Enlli
are clear on the horizon.

For a moment
a train in the distance
and a lone seagull
the only sounds.

Low tide, Aberystwyth

The beach was empty today and,
forgetting our original purpose,
we pottered along to the pier
and back,
finding a handful of pearl sea-glass pieces
glowing green among the shells and pebbles
of the morning

Tiny really,
as though, for me, the tide had tossed up a reminder:
'Sometimes smaller treasures...'

Winter colour

In the sheltered lea
Ragged-Robin smiling still
Magenta morning

Winter afternoon impressions

A crisp north wind bites,
Snow lies on the far mountains,
Bonfire's acrid smoke

Brighton autumn Sunday

Sky-blue city streets,
winter, waiting in the wings,
draws its cruel breath

Treasure trove

Among the debris
of yesterday's storms
a curl of rusted metal
is to me
a viking armoured cuff