When the lack of variation
Settles down on one’s surrounds
Piling on laboriousness
Where long-winded dull abounds
Uneventfulness ad nauseam pats
On dripping rooftop sounds
Incessant uniformity
Somehow endlessly expounds
No escape afforded
In the going nowhere ground
As the weariness of dreariness
Must inevitably confound
Drifting at speed on a rocket
To overcome travelling time
The void in between a perilous scene
Encompassed a challenging climb
Far out on the Martian planet
Not a Martian visible in sight
A voyager took his dog for a walk
Having lost his way in the night
It wasn’t a planned layover
The pull wouldn’t let him go by
Landing was done, for hopping up fun
Pastel shades that were truly the sky
A bird one day flew the flock
It hankered to join with a herd
Although not a mammal
Fell in love with a camel
In a way, that was clearly absurd
Their relationship came to fruition
After years, they gained an addition
A winged quadruped
with a bumpety lump
Eventually innately selected
As a bride to the chief of the herd
Merely partially camel
Enigmatically mammal
No hint of a marital crossword
Finally evolved a new species
Out of wondrous Arabian nights
Gaining strength in their legs
On carpets, they flew
In Seychelles, laying leathery eggs
Minimally, the message sent
Clipped and closely cropped
Too little time to spare or drift
Attention levels dropped
Just send a fabrication
That has the feel of “someone cares”
Not a sign of deviation
Just a fix without repairs
No jumping to conclusions
The moment will have passed
For expanded interaction
Or, in other words, recast
Amusement keeps a life alive
With busy things to do
Above all that we need to laugh
And keep away from all that blue
They call it 'sense of humour'
Maybe a chuckle or guffaw
A riotous sense of silliness
Super smooth or ragged raw
A pent-up sense of tittering
Way beyond a smirk or smile
You heard that one so full of fun
It left you rolling in the aisle
Sitting at the Christmas table, enveloped in a whimsical cloud of merry methane, we joyfully sing "Good King Wenceslas," our voices harmonising amidst laughter and cheer. The flickering candlelight dances upon our faces, casting warm glows as we share stories and indulge in delightful winter treats. The familiar strains of the carol bring a sense of nostalgia as the aroma of festive dishes fills the air, creating a cosy tapestry of joy and togetherness that defines this cherished holiday gathering.
December is for parcel passing
Where many smiles anticipate
The getting and the giving, too
On that holly famous date
The blatant ripping wrappings fest
Conceal aspiring hope comprises
For just below the paper trail
Reveals a charm of great surprises
A system skewed with bribes preclude
Guaranteeing being bushwacked
That proved the point of self-indulgence
When you surpassed your anti-climax
Special stops serenely calm
Where contentment is a seat
In between the lines and pages
When it's time to rest your feet
To disappear in peace of mind
Allowing time to find its phase
Being there yet being elsewhere
In a world of word arrays
The wind is on the lookout
To play a brand-new tune
Seeking places where to pitch
In passageways most opportune
The song it sings depends upon
Shapes and forms confronted
Every masterpiece is tailor-made
Each impulsive swerve invented
Through the gaps and chasms
Where the music calls for dance
Playing demolition's rhythmic games
As nothing more than chance
Itchy fingers, twitchy eyes
Incessant keyboard tapping
Things to do are scrolling through
In a type of almost rapping
Incessant repetition hits
In pursuit of bells and whistles
A pride of place in empty hollows
On silent seats of plain dismissals
Human characters unreadable
Non-existent in engagement
Forever doing something else
Deranged in disengagement
Picture from a post 'Writing For Wellbeing' a photo of Virginia Woolf’s writing desk, taken by Gisèle Freund“Isn't that what the process of making the art is for, to reveal yourself who you truly are? Let the blank page whisper to you.”
With all its many aspects
Implications will intone
In the writing of its story
Which is never on its own
It may be an obtuse angle
When highlighting the inane
A vital link in explanations
On a distant, empty plane
A feature in a storyline
On a page as yet left clear
At the outset of a journey
Or something other nowhere near
We love a friendly gathering
A meet and greet conducive
Sharing in a pleasant buffet
Sipping socially inclusive
The sound of natter-chatter
Permeates the atmosphere
Among the mutually agreeable
Free of insincere veneer
Sociable and favourable
Nothing spurious back-and-forth
An interchange of geniality
Filled with value, warmth, and worth
December winter’s sluggish month
As the old year now completes
In a pile of well-meant wrappings
From discarded hand-picked treats
Back when a gift was chosen
By a meaningful decision
After Traipsing with the multitudes
Within a budget-strained position
Bumper bundle Bank transfers
A two-way-charge concern
As gifts became transactions
For each recipient, cash and burn
Roasting couch potatoes sit
In states of doubled cover
As the Advent fever passes
From body heat with cupboard lover
A time to be appreciative
For those surprising contemplations
When wonderful coincidence
Outstrips one’s expectations
The fading shape is waning
Its purpose has decreased
No longer finding ways to be
Now looking out to be released
Absent from encouragement
No longer part of all that goes
Descending into separation
Amid December’s icy throes
In a theatre’s final curtain call
Where the last act is to leave
Following slowly in a line
One last exit to achieve
I have a crisis with our schema
Pardon me I must confess
Impossible to be on time
I beg forgiveness for the mess
Something dire cropped up today
In such detail, problematic
Our plan will need adjustment
If you’ll accept my idiomatic
I prey upon your fortitude
Plundering on your empathy
A plea of tacit understanding
Mea culpa, I beseech in all rapidity
The watch designed to catch the eye
In a period for good measure
To personalise the chase of pace
Whether work-inspired or leisure
A passing observation piece
Declaring moments prime
To check the past now left behind
Predicting space in time
To wear away whilst waiting
Conversing with the mind
A theatre marker in the scene
To keep an audience entwined
Today a new word visited
As I rifled through my books
In the midst of gathering studies
That hung about on hooks
Haphazardly, I looked at them
My subjects in curricular
Calmly, as they fluttered
As though held up in serendicular
I watched it change and undulate
With mesmerising ease vermicular
Which convinced me that a new idea
Is aptly placed when serendicular
Valentina drove a show to town
Spreading colour all around
Crowds began to gather round
To wish her on her way
A band was blasting circus tunes
To harmonise, a lilting song
A street of voices sang along
Valentina seized the day
Her sense of rhythm striking
To the beat of a hundred bells
Like a turning tide of ocean swells
Double time in écossaise
Time the challenging stranger
Relentless in pursuit
Passing on to let you know
Of its continual commute
Although it has no future
It leaves behind the past
Reflecting on from after which
The die was truly cast
Every passing second ticks away
To points you find impending
Though will not let you see beyond
Sneak previews that it’s sending
Little nubs and nudging stubs
Invade my thoughtful clusters
Turn my missions into turmoil
With delaying mocking flusters
Hinting queasy tips, uneasy
Half reminders for supplies
Forgotten things of most essential
I somehow failed to memorise
Why do these teasing feelings
Dampen my tranquilities
To leave me saturated
By the drenching heebie-jeebies
Find a thing like anything
Put it where you can
Mark it as a perfect thing
Let a thing begin your plan
This way that way place a thing
Where things can be best sat
In pride of place or put away
In a hide or viewed as that
Things become invisible
When interest has faded
What once was simply must have
Becomes a thing downgraded
Every thing makes up the whole
Like things like apparatus
In collections of the many things
One gives a thing its status
This year at last
is drifting further each day
Like a wild world in turmoil
Hopes are swimming away
Poisoned promises
Have turned the air sour
Cancelling worn-out moments
That could have made a new hour
The last bells are ringing out
Bringing messages few
Weak lights on a dark night
Are shrinking the view
Photo by JC Gellidon on Unsplash
Secret Cindy steals away
To find her heart’s desire
Until she gets the fire
Her mood is not for sharing
Her only counsel is herself
Meeting inward points of view
Discussing old books on her shelf
Secret Cindy making waves
Causing early waves to slow
Swept back on the beach again
Where discoveries steal her show
She’s not singing any old song
Nor calling out new tunes
Thoughts are raining down on her
Crowding out her afternoons
Mother Malevolent
pulling strings
Power projector
Queen of schemes
Thought injector
Spiteful dreams
Cauldron conniver
fostering screams
Pursuing the spoils
In drowning streams
Begin a rhyme with gobbledygook
To raise a hullabaloo
I can’t think of anything politer
Than words impossible to glue
Avoiding Kakorrhaphiophobia
Finifugal almost beaten
My aim to be largiloquent
When ickle hardly eaten
I twist my tongue Saccadic
In a cattywampus stew
Pulling up my salopettes
I now find mabble overdue
Gobbledygook: a meaningless language
Hullabaloo: a commotion
Kakorrhaphiophobia: fear of failure
Finifugal: afraid of finishing anything
Largiloquent: talkative; full of words
Ickle: Little
Saccadic: jerky; twitching
Cattywampus: askew
Salopettes: high-waisted skiing pants with shoulder straps
Mabble: to wrap up
Man at a bar reading a newspaper (Flo-Master pen and pastel) by Norman Cornish (1919–2014) @GrimArtGroup
Back then, a quiet read
No telephone in sight,
no exasperating ring
no uninvited shadows
crowd my light
Standing calmly checking items
An empty pub my sanctuary.
Before the filling magic hour
With cool projected parity
Prepared to take a light year nap
Completed setting-up controls
No need to make a homeward map
Just float around the starlight shoals
I’m thinking neoterically
A keen eye on potential
Bouncing on a stellar beam
Espial gravity beneficial
Who knows where I’m off to
Most unlikely I’ll return
Those pieces I once called a place
No longer my concern
For those of us unshaven mugs
Beware of bristling woes
Below the chin, where collars rub
Spikey problems pose
Lest the lower neck is bristle-free
One may encounter needle stabs
Syringe-like scratches painfully
Giving the screaming habdabs
Bristlestings are ambush-ready
Impulsive spikes on neckline rubs
Razor-sharp incision digs
These teeny-weeny stickpin stubs
Money loans invisible tricks
Make too much of nothing
For as it turns out promises
May end in mattress stuffing
Promises not responsible
To undermine a special trust
Eventually, the truth will out
The way difficulties must
Exhilaration with celebration
Manic moments of ‘right now’
Where the one-way ticket riders
Hope to find their holy cow
He was beauty-blessed, self-centred
With an ultimate enhancement
No jewel or precious metal
Could embellish his advancement
Enchanted by hallucinations
His importance absolute with love
No greater joy could be bestowed upon
For there was nothing else above
Without stain or indiscretion
To dim his glimmer pressed upon
Surrounded by a crowd that bowed
Affirmed eternally their swan
Histories made in memories
Shooting pictures from the hip
Recording happy holidays
On a break or special trip
Spells fixed for reminiscences
In frames and shuffle stacks
Found in albums or shoe boxes
Some as-yet unopened packs
Candid situations caught
Captured poses unexpected
Adding detail to a story
Where truth lies unsuspected
From the complexity of being
To the state of all gone by
Where the hall evaporated
In final whispers of a sigh
In the briefest time, fugacious
Freefalling in that way
Following an abstract light
Toward the aftermath of play
Along a level playing field
On such a personal parade
No conversation or opinion
A final primal escapade
