The dark encroaches earlier and the temperatures drop. September heralds autumnal change. This time last year I was already battening down by spending more evenings in with the creaking heating, baking and feeling the quiet life.
adroit, adept, conker, weary boeuf and stew. The nights are closing in; the mushrooms sprouting on their monopeds. The pipes are closing in with nights re-wakening with heating. — Here above, some words combined at the end of September last year as autumn brought in a change of light, of taste preferences, of colours andContinue reading “Nice words of the moment (from autumn)”
There is exercise in the rooted words. Knead! Knead! Glance, the rooted words are closing in. About the even’ shift the sprouting pipes creak thin their heat – a flailing dance of conker-burst – Knead! Knead! The Beautiful Life is different. — This poem is part of a current project to write two poems aContinue reading “An autumn evening in”
Black coats, black pavements, black umbrellas, the rain Nights black by 20:00. Achoos in the office. Splutters on the train. Time to switch on the heating and buy doughnuts in the morning. There has sprung the winter hunger and it will only grow — On the 19th September 1819, John Keats wrote this lilting odeContinue reading “Autumn’s ripened harvest store”