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Expectant
First time grandmother-to-be Already on edge Awaits delivery Wednesday? No Thursday? No She’s sitting at the window It’s got to come today She’s sits waiting patiently She needs that replacement kettle So she can have A calming cup of tea . n.b. What a time for the old kettle to blow and the parcel service →
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On Darkness
Out there sea and wind Roll pebbles along the shore Hear each one disturbed . Christopher Perry 17th April, 2020 →
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Day 29
More sunshine. These days are brightly lit, but carry a chill that reaches deep to the bones. The first swallow has arrived here and waits patiently on a telephone wire strung high above the street. It calls out to attract its followers to join the line-up. How many will battle successfully through the northerly winds? →
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Sayoran in 3 Syllables
Breakfasllllloooooooowwwwwwwww . n.b. That most important meal of the day – don’t rush it. Minimalist poetry. I am calling these random “one word poems” ‘Sayoran’ after the American writer, Adam Sayoran. He is credited with adapting the minimalist artistic form to poetry. . Christopher Perry 16th April, 2020 →
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Sayoran in 8 Syllables (Message to Self)
Forfucksakegetabloodygripppppppppppp . www.napowrimo.net Day 16 Prompt: Effusive praise. This is off prompt, but is prompted by the Day 16 post. CLP 16th April, 2020 →
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on the line
The year’s first swallow is here Just the one Balanced quite comfortably On the telephone wire A bright summery note on a four line stave Flown in on the warm south wind It sits, calling for the others It can’t eat all these midges and mosquitos alone . Christopher Perry 15th April, 2020 →
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Ambient 1: Music for Airports
A note Here And a Note There A not Her And Not The A n He A N H T Other phrases . . Glide Chime Ring Come in Rrrrrreee verrrrr berrrrr ate D r i f t Fade . Die n.b. www.naporwrimo.net Day 15 prompt: A favourite piece of music. Brian Eno’s “Ambient 1: Music for →
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Day 28
The temperature-drop overnight made the new day unwelcoming. The wild plum tree, now in full leaf, is dragged around by the northerly wind. The hazel bush has adapted better to the conditions. It flicks back and forth in the strong breeze, the lithe canes whipping upright once a gust has passed. It is not until →
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Day 27
Deep sleep broken by the unfamiliar heavy rain on the window; big, fat, heavy splats. I lie awake listening to the wind in the trees, until the rough sea and rain’s rhythm ease me back to sleep. The local temperature fell by more than sixteen degrees centigrade in less than twenty four hours. From shorts →
Journey of Words 