Eighty Three

We hobnob
With the glitterati
In the Poet’s Cafe
At the Artisan’s Bar

Then sit outside
In the autumn sun
With carrot cake
And a pot of tea

Today’s word was Joy
The first word
Which I heard
Passing on the stairs

I have my mind
I can choose to change it
First to watch it
Then to rearrange

Turn away from delusions
Towards the virtuous
Develop a positive mind
Strong, resilient

Small steps at first
One at a time
Observe, witness
Visualise, change

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Eighty Two

We hobbled over
Those nobbled
Cobbled stones
As the white water
Pitched, bobbled

In the middle
Of the stream
He sits on a rock
Posing, to have
His photograph taken

The water
Makes quite a racket
Nowhere near as quiet
As the mouse
In the Tibetan meditation room

Either way
Even with such
Never-ending movement
There is a stillness
To the moment, to the day

No need now for wobble
Or for feeling wobbly
Cobbled together stories
Of past lives, present lives
All of what there is, going forwards

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Eighty One

A footpath
Of cobbled stone
With granite slate
All maintained
By the National Trust

The camera says
It’s had enough
So these here words
Will have to suffice
To describe the view

Bums on boulders
Feet on ferns
Sandwiches
In the plastic bag
(Biodegradable)

The gill
For that is why
We have ventured off-road
It is as white as sour milk
Hence the name

Across the way
Higher, then higher still
Up there on the summit
Matchstick Men
In the style of LS Lowrie

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Eighty

Take your time
Follow
The mindful way of life

Take your time
Glide through the hollow
Covered by the trees of life

Stand in line
Borrow
From the mindful way of life

Stand in line
Free from sorrow
Gifted by the stillness of life

Find the sign
Climb
Into the mindful way of life

Find the sign
Peaceful for the mind
Beauty in the love of life

Turn to kind
Learn to unwind
With the mindful way of life

Turn to kind
Seek to find
Care in a carefree kind of life

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Seventy Nine

Who was there
Who wasn’t there
Was everybody there
Was I the only one absent

The window was open
Throughout the night
I needed fresh air
I wanted fresh air

No matter
That your shoulder
Might have caught the draught
Causing you a relapse

The autumn colours
Already beautiful
Yet, so we are told
Better still in two weeks time

Then to walk
On the decking
Over the bog, over the marsh
To see the magnificent grasses

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