Echoes of Carol

She always seemed unbeatable

With boldness carried on

Defiant smiles and laughter

We’ll miss her now she’s gone

 

Naughty Thoughts

 

Crowded in a thought surround

Bombarded into sleep

I can’t contain them in the main

As they wave and quietly creep

 

Do thoughts have ears to listen

Or, eyes to paint ideas

Why then such a rapid dump

On my synergistic lean veneers

 

Active when uncalled-for 

Interrupting smart solutions

Falling like confetti rain

When swept away cannot remain

Perception

 

My perfect picture window shines

Prominent figments on my wall

A flawless stream of grayscale

Whose distant memories, I recall

 

Harking back to bygone days

In roaring twenties style

Something opulently Gatsby

Like Scott Fitzgerald might compile

 

A vision speaking out to me

How times have slowly rearranged

Thoroughly modern artificial

Hinting times gone by have changed

 

Feasts of Yeasts

 

Strings and threads in flower beds

Braids in the forest glades

Earth divining crosswise intertwining

Growing deep arrayed brocades

 

Food for thought miscellany

Repairs with flair agronomy

Charming farming life returning

In a realm of soil autonomy

 

Her messages interpreted

Mother Nature watches on

Each living brood returned as food

New life to build upon

 

In Pursuit of Home

 

Travelling on the underground 

Fifty metres deep

In an empty carriage late at night

Far away from silent sleep

 

So much emptiness surrounds me

It invades my space in time

As the end-of-line approaches

Where I’ll take the exit climb

 

Even at this vacant hour

As I go, they’re coming back

Crossing paths with future pasts

Way above that lowdown track

 

Thrown

Bricks with numbers one to six

Rustled, jostled, bumped, and spun

Random patterns one-on-one

A gaming cluster in the mix

Roll and twist make magic tricks

Before your very eyes

Hand illusions mild surprise

Unexpectedly for kicks

Nothing dicey about a dice

Unless you find them loaded

From a shaken cup exploded

Algorithms make a tidal splice

 

52nd Birthday

 

Simon shuffles life like a deck so grand,
Fifty-two years dealt by fate’s own hand.
Each card a moment, a story to trade,
A royal flush of memories made.
Happy birthday, may your luck never fade!

 

With every card flipped, a new chance to play,
Jack, queen, and king guide your joyful way.
Through highs and lows, your hand stays smart,
A lifetime of wins, dealt straight from the heart.
Cheers to Simon—let the good times stay!

Life in the First Lane

 

A child sits waiting, watching

For a moment, not yet known

To draw the eyes in mild surprise

Where seeds of thought are sown

 

In a state of sensing chance

Unsure, not knowing why

A natural curiosity shapes

To expand a child’s mind’s eye

 

Movement, shade and colour

Dancing patterns all around

Briefly finding something new

In its sense of sight and sound