The room is warm
Even at this early hour
I could easily drift off
To who knows where
But I don’t
Instead I take out a pencil
To scribe these few words
On the cusp of daydreams
The prints are from Egoiste magazine
Bought in an outdoor market
In the old town of Bilbao
Where we also tasted tapas
Indeed in some of the bars
We watched the ham being sliced
Due to one enterprising soul realising
That this would make for fine entertainment
Another photograph is of the sea
The promenade at Whitby to be precise
At the time of the World Music festival
Where Buena Vista Social Club played
The room is warm
And you might argue
That it is filled with memories
From further away yet closer to home
On the long wall images from Skye, Shetland
And from birthdays; also, on the far wall
My own pastels; so so many hours of pleasure
From so so very long ago
