The platitudinous things people say,
The rain will wash them all away.
The rat race of a London day,
The rain will cleanse this all away.
Rain, nature’s balm to a troubled mind,
Within us inner peace we find.
A quiet place in which to dwell,
Aloof from this London hell.
While swimming in a moat,
A goat ate my coat.
I was annoyed for awhile
But relieved it wasn’t a crocodile!
Thanks to a suggestion from Chris Graham (http://thestoryreadingapeblog.com/), I have now added several buttons to my blog allowing readers to share content more easily. Twitter and Facebook are now joined by Pocket, Reddit, print and email. Thank you Chris for the great suggestion!
For information on how to add sharing buttons to your WordPress site please visit (https://en.support.wordpress.com/sharing/).
Time, as the shower runs away.
Will she not stay?
Each line upon the face,
Speaks of her fading grace.
The girl’s plaster smile.
He is in denial.
“Will you remain a while?”
He asks.
“No, this can not last.
I see the chasm yawning vast.
The hours,, like sand run away.
The dawn rises, I can not stay”.
The spider in his own web entangles,
Struggles exstatically, then slowly strangles.
The fly sucks the spider dry.
Smiling sweetly, to see him die.
A thought provoking article in today’s guardian (10 August 2015). The author argues that in a world subject to multiple online distractions the way in which we read books is changing. Readers now flick between messages from friends back to their ebook rather than, as in times past devoting their whole attention to a book. In effect our attention span is less than was the case prior to the proliferation of technology, particularly mobile devices. The author also contends that ebooks are changing the way in which authors write. For the article please visit, http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/aug/10/ebooks-are-changing-the-way-we-read-and-the-way-novelists-write?CMP=share_btn_link
Me reading my poem ‘Plinths’
Me reading my poem ‘The Gentleman Suitor to his Beloved’
Me reading a selection of my poetry.
Your contented sighs.
Those soft brown eyes.
Your cold wet nose.
Love beyond speech, my dog knows.
