Monthly Archives: July 2017




Walk of willing feet, caressed by the Ionian Sea. 

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Suns warmth on bones,

limbs stretching to enjoy it.

Trackless now of time. 


I know one

heart and mind

belonging to no-one 

but me 

for now. 


Cashmere 

discovered

woollen robes

now coarse. 


We remember 

what we feel;

good,

bad,

laughter

and the sad. 


Salt spray

on lips, 

sea felt 

long before 

it was seen.

Harbour no haven, 

still to set off 

on rising winds 

of a storm.


If landscape

is poetry,

paint the poem

blue.