You saw a broken umbrella. I saw a satellite dish. You saw a red head. I saw ochre seaweed. You saw a flimsy skirt. I saw a black jelly fish. You said, not sand, then, but crème brûlée? Which I thought was sweet.
Is it a long way down? Fathoms, leagues, miles, whatever applies. Squint your eye at the scope. Night vision? May be useful, although that requires a heat source. Requires signs of life. You could lower a child down, their sight is better, uncorrupted. Further in, away from the outcry that led to this search, the noise will abate and you may hear your conscience calling.
Linking this to Sammi’s Weekend Prompts, which this week asks us to write prose or poetry which includes the word ‘outcry’ and uses exactly 65 words.
My mother warned me about characters like you, Just listen to him, she'd scoff, rough as they come. And she had a point, your garrulous rasp is a tad coarse.
And what does he do for a living? she'd argue, haul cargo from A to B. She heard you'd been found hoarding goods - always a sign of a selfish nature (she claimed).
But when you came to whisk me off to a family party, she had nothing to say. You were handsome as any she'd seen. Spruce black tail, clean white at your throat and a splash of bright blue to catch the eye. My glorious Jay.
Linking this to d’Verse Poets where Ingrid is inviting us to write a poem or song inspired by the Corvid family of birds.
The Eurasian Jay (Garrulous glandarius) has visited my garden from time to time. I always think his beautiful appearance does not match the grating sound of his call. One of the collective nouns for Jays, is a party.
Weather: Will withstand average storms, provided they are not constant. Some moderate upsets may improve root strength. Force 10 arguments, or similar, may result in stunted growth. Overall, prefers calm, temperate climate.
Fertilizer: Rich compost of thoughts, peeled and cored over a length of time. Regular rummaging to discourage a morass settling. Sprinkle with grains of inspiration when needed.
Aspect: More robust varieties cope with any orientation. A south-westerly aspect is preferred by most, where a scattering of red light waves generally enhances overall flavour. Some early-risers may respond better to an easterly aspect.
General Maintenance: Requires regular support, especially when showing signs of weakness. Avoid drying out – if not addressed this may result in reduced productivity. Equally, overwatering can be detrimental to effective growth. Check for bugs (esp. the Doubt Beetle) – some infestations can prove fatal.
If treated well, will reward the owner with many years of enjoyment.
The theme for my poetry group this month is ‘The Mind’, which has led me to penning this. Not sure I will use it, but it amused me to write it …
Well, now we’re awake. We waited until the thunder had died down, the crashing of crockery, the snorting. Don’t imagine that we’re clearing up that mess. Our bodies do not come with a broom as a permanent appendage, or a kettle and teapot. This isn’t haberdasher’s glitter on these gowns, they are spun from a fabric far from here. Don’t waste your precious hours trying to tear at our skirts, they are unrippable. And don’t fool yourself, you are not the centre of the universe, the omphalos.
Motionless. Unseeing yet staring. Waiting. Beneath her seat Lie a heap of fragments, Piling ever higher. Names, places, common words Drop like dying petals, And when I lift her She is as light As fallen blossom
You never take me anywhere, my nose often complained, And, to be fair, on most our jaunts it usually rained. But not today, the sun it shone, and with it came those smells That breathing deeply in and out my nose surely excels. It first took flight to Africa, pink freesias packed a tale From the florist’s pavement stall, their ancestry regaled. Then a boat to India as fragrant sandalwood Oozed seduction like a spell as any perfume should. A gentle ride to Italy, towards its southern states, Suggested by the apricots that lined the grocer’s crates. And finally, the best of all, a fragment of strong cheese, Took my nose to Somerset, a sandwich on the breeze.
But, I can’t write anything serious today – I am in too good a mood. Had a lovely few hours with my daughter in Brighton, where the sun shone and we saw an excellent piano performance by the Ukrainian pianist Alexei Grynyuk. And, yes, there were a lot of smells in the air!