I cannot see
But I can imagine
So I do not see
But I don’t half imagine
I cannot be
But I can do
So I don’t be
But I do quite considerably do
Most days I would try to write a poem; it is a practice, as I suppose is meditation, or smiling, or watching the world go by
I cannot see
But I can imagine
So I do not see
But I don’t half imagine
I cannot be
But I can do
So I don’t be
But I do quite considerably do
Rounded stones
Rock solid
Rustic French accent
A stronger breeze
Kickstarts
The waves of late summer
Follow the flags
And the bunting
As the ship sets to sail
Already
The luggage containers
Are being loaded
As the queues form
Leading away
From our idyllic escape
Movements
Also stillness
Quiet
Yet not quite silence
Shops, cafés
And a signpost
To the harbour
Or to the visitor centre
With its sedum roof
Without resignation
Yet not to celebrate
Simply
To take the next steps
Wherever they lead
With hope
In the ascendency
As joy and love
Call you to be at their side
Or at least they press you
To explore
Outside of your, self-limiting, comfort zone