Journey of Words

Tag: Poetry

  • On Friendship (continued)

    We have all the time required to be gentle. Friendship will endure. ~ CLP 03/02/2021 →

  • L3: Day 29 On The Bridge

    I was walking back from the shop, carrying a paper bag of groceries in my arms when I reached the bridge. I have been here before, but not like this. There has usually been some kind of run up, run out, or just gradually being run down. Not this time. I just thought, from nowhere →

  • On Dreams

    Twisted stories shaped from memories, fears and hopes that shadow the dawn ~ CLP 02/02/2021 →

  • L3 (Day 28): At the Window

    Another day of tears. A venerated old man died along with one thousand, four hundred and forty-eight other UK victims of the pandemic. Tomorrow Will Be Good Day is the title of his book. With that hope in my heart I withdraw from this one. ~ CLP 02/02/2021 →

  • On Sweet Dreams

    Feverish bedtimes soothed by gentle reading of favourite books ~ n.b. I heard today, not for the first time during this pandemic, of stories being read to unwell adults at bedtime. Such a simple act of love. ~ CLP 02/02/2021 →

  • L3 (Day 27) Norwich

    Chilly sunbeams caught the trees with such intensity that the bark shone. In Chapelfield Gardens this mighty specimen’s complex skeleton is revealed. Although the temperature was barely above freezing, the first crocuses were pushing though to join dangling snow drops and daffodil shoots. What will trigger the opening of the daffodils? Will it be warmth →

  • Redwings

    By noon the light was in retreat the nagging wind swung east, north-east its oscillations conjured more ice from air to add to morning’s thick frost still laid below hedges trinketed with hips and haws that baited flocks of redwings whose fluted chirps and piped notes added winter music to this rime and brought vibrancy →

  • Lockdown 3 (Day 26): Yaxham

    I cycled west from Norwich deeper into the heart of East Anglia. I passed poultry farms and great swathes of open fields, solid flint wall churches with square towers, wind turbines, solar panels and the remains of at least one war time airfield. The old road was marked by roughly estimated mile stones. On one →

  • On Playing xxi

    Is that how it was? Truly unbelievable. Oh! How we laughed ~ n.b. Sometimes you just cannot make it up. The happiest coincidences, the spontaneous choices, the good fortune, the generosity of the people you bump into on the way, the adventures. Some call it fate, but that’s life! CLP 30/01/2021 →

  • Lockdown 3 (Day 25): Inside

    A voice message. I hear the sadness, pain and anguish among the words, the breath, the hesitation and fluctuating voice. It is clear. My heart aches to hear it. There is no way to be there, to wrap arms around, to comfort. A telephone conversation. I hear the deep breath before confession. I hear what →