a poem

back in the bosom of La Belle France and with all this technology I should surely be able to write something of interest for anyone who might be reading it. Instead here’s a poem – written last year 

Never Return

Autumn mist

       crept slowly from the valley

       a slithering grey dampness swirled

       as it weaved its way among trees and tiles

       enveloping all like a shroud,

       sliding round rooftops and chimneys

       sucking out colour, leaving

       the grey mask

       like death’s own face;

 

       and when the wind followed

       shuddering, it sighed

       ‘never return

       never return.’

 

And now for something completely different….

 

AImage

 

the blue skies of Benidorm

and some creatures around our cottage

Image

Image

such a pretty moth!

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