7 a.m.

Clear sky pre-dawn glow:
fuzzy feel of apricots against the skin,
taste of Milk Tray Orange Crème.

Post pruning

The upraised butchered branch of plum tree
gesticulates and casts a witch's curse.

At the hairdresser

Not facing the window is boring

definitely a great deal more flattering

my face in shadow, backlit

grumpy me?

young mother steers child in pushchair
and a dog
with mobile clamped to ear
and I wonder when child will learn to talk

On my way to buy a morning paper #5

Splendid pile of fungus:

griddle scones awaiting maple syrup

Old 'technology'

Somehow a surprise
to see egg-box type packing
protecting my new laptop.

Triple drama

Crimson embers burst beyond the blackness of the hawthorn branches,
Ireland's Ronan O'Gara converts another try,
and an over-large spider sprints across the floor toward me.

Foreboding

A sudden gloom makes it hard to see the page
and I dash outside to rescue the near-dry washing.

Chopping dates for muesli

Long-term, long time, careful observation
yet I still cannot decide
whether fewer, bigger and much more to taste
is better than much smaller and more of them.

And another firing

Two shots ring out
and a pair of would-be joyous magpies
take the pessimistic view

Misfiring Comet

Eventually I appreciated his help

and might have bought the recommended laptop there and then

but for the overpowering reek of aftershave.

Distracted for MudSpots

In search of an aphorism
I resort to Aurelius
and neglect my packing for the weekend

[If you haven’t been to MudSpots yet, do check it out – 250 word tales from talented writers, incluiding me!)

Another cause for regret

Nearly the end of summer
and I don't have so much as a hint, even,
of a watch-strap mark

Regret

White moon high on blue
a perfect circle in the western sky
and I am sad I did not see it rise
full gold, on black, last night

Vivid

Squelch and splash of violent accident colours
when I unwittingly tread on a well-rotted plum

Waterworks

Mismatched triangular plastic pictograms,
(sandbagged today against the strengthening wind)
preceding clicked-together chunky fencing pieces,
red and blue, with stuck-on stripey tape:
Playmobil for children now grown large.

Practical pleasure

A jug I bought because I liked its pale sienna earthy colour,
the darker circled lines that spoke of how it became,
the proportions of its height to its circumference
and the way the handle fitted fingers, gave a resting place for thumb,
pours just as nicely, as it should.

On the back lawn

Toadstools to begin, alarming orange,

then go black.

A scattering of over-night-grown curses

Half-past seven this evening

Sunset clouds, upswept, like blow-dried hair-sprayed candyfloss

surprisingly, in Thurso

Ochre yellow bookshop, words on slate upon the outside walls
Rankin minus Rebus but subsequently read and found compelling
and Cormac McCarthy’s ‘Blood Meridian’

North of Golspie

Rooks, burnt and blackened paper flakes,
heat-driven upwards
then windswept across the flame gold trees

Heading south towards Grantown-on-Spey

An apprentice piece, a sampler of exuberant, lively clouds
complimenting the yellow-gold scallop-edged dish of hills,
dashed silver with a streak of wet run roads.