When the pen takes control.

Hunting for berries

the thrush has no time for song

Winter of silence

Holly’s expressionless face appeared on the screen above the console. The alarm light was flashing and the siren was steadily increasing in volume. Holly, calmly informed us that she had picked up a call from another ship. Finally, something to relieve the boredom of space. She patched it through on speaker and a familiar voice announced, “This is the Starship Enterprise, is anyone receiving us?” There was a unanimous cry of, “Ignore it.”

At the end of the rainbow

we have always been told

is to be sure to be found

a great pot of gold

so I chase each rainbow

but they always seem

to keep the same distance

just ahead of me

Lip stinging, nose burning, eyes watering, skin reddening, chest tightening, foul smelling, breathtaking, poopsi.

Childhood memories

released from each falling flake

smiles dance in the air

Forlorn, the tipsy tower sits

amidst the closely shaven stalks

open-mouthed fit trees stand tall

winds whispering with silent shame

in expectation of the fall

Grim-faced, Rose gripped the wheel of the land-rover, like fighting an enraged bull she wrestled to keep to the track avoiding fallen branches and debris, reminders of last night’s storm. The song Rock a bye baby kept coming to mind. Finally she stopped, raised her binoculars and with tears in her eyes, finally smiled, the protected osprey nest still sat in the treetop.

Statuesque the owl sits unblinking listening to the night

High above the rising moon casts long shadows in the grass

While below his lofty perch a beetle makes unhurried progress

Motionless, she stood gazing down the tunnel. The path extended as far as the eye could see, encased by walls of grimy bricks. She imagined that she could just make out a pinpoint of light in the far distance. The tunnel was less than half a kilometre, no bends, no turns, no side passages in which to get lost. Still she felt reluctant to enter. The towpath was wide, her head torch bright, even if she stumbled she was unlikely to fall into the placid canal water. Sure, it may be cold but never deep. At last she imagined there was a light ahead as of someone approaching from the far end and berating herself for being so foolish took her first step.