Troubled minds.

The silence of the brain, full of ideas and stories, struggling to connect, as bits and pieces, slowly cover the screen, with tumbling words of little significance, and one wonders; where have all the heat of creation gone, why should it disappear in such troubled times, with the world ailing and bombs being thrown, around…

Grey Squirrel.

He looks at me, no movement, hands frozen in the moment of fright. He bends forward puts a corn kernel into his mouth; scampers off up the tree, out of sight, and I wonder why I needed to scare him out of my realm.

Fog of sleep…

Strange sounds in the biting night air, clouds hang in uncertain light, stranded in the moonless sky, and I type words that skud across the page to fast to drop much insight into gaia’s plight, the braising air winds my mind towards dreams of better times, then into the fog of sleep.

60 today!

This new day shines down on my tired head, I’m lifted by the fact that I have just turned 60! and have had a very interesting, yet sometimes trying journey over this last half century.  

Piverting …

Piverting between wild dreams, fitful sleep, and the excitement of now; I sit thinking, typing; words appear in small clusters on the white screen, anger slowly filters from my hunched being, I sit upright aware of the woes of the world and see the silvery three quarter moon shining brightly, in the warm night sky,…