The Song

I tried to write a song last night, I made it quite happy with a strong back-beat, the people did not like it; saying it was to happy for sad times in which it was written, but I sang my song last night, explaining that the world was badly troubled, in need of quick and…

The Tree.

The tree stands, as it has done for years, in my back garden, the leaves shudder every now and again in the breeze, with happy bird calls emanating from it, insects jump around, and neighbors cats can be seen racing up and down it’s length, and they all coexist happily.

Thoughts.

Walking with myself; deep in thought, wondering about my vulnerabilities; then entranced as two butterflies came dancing by, floating on a slight breeze over the dry bushes: Then trudge, trudge I carry on once again deep in thought; so much so that I did not see a low branch of a tree, walking into it,…