Austen.

Austen.

                                             The storm has arrived:              

                                        trees cower in obeisance

                                                                            and unseen wind chorales through

                                        boughs that bow           

in its barrage.

Only a red kite shares the sky

amongst the stripped leaves

and a flighty Sainsbury's carrier.

She skids through the rain

                    like kids in the playground

                                       on an ice-slide

           in January.

The storm has arrived:

herald to a winter yet to come,

foreteller of power cuts,

the unblessings of broken trunks,

and the impassable passageways of crowded drains.

The neighbour's demented flag

                               wynds the pole

                                                and writhes

against the furious wind

              an abstract pattern                                    

of red, white and blue.

It has a name,

this wind that has arrived,

but calling it by name

does not soothe

nor abate its delirium.

I suspect it senses

that it is not welcome.

kw 23/10/2026

The ransom note

 

Words.

'Its only..........

…...words.

But they are out of reach

in a mist......

…...missed.

Words used to stream

like a river in its youth

flowing fast and shaping its route.

Putting in a hand

caught a palm full,

dripping onto the page,

then drying,

coming of age

and silently speaking.

But that was then.

And now - they have been kidnapped.

More silent than the silence.

Words in captivity.

Secured in mist ….

….....missed.

The ransom note hasn't come.

Because

I

have the pen

to write it.........

but not the words.

Only its …..

…...words.

Words.

Kw 20/10/26

Birthdays are for other people

 

Birthdays are for other people

There is no word for this day,

there is no real celebration,

yet it is no ordinary day

and deserves

its remembrance,

its place

in the eternity

of time.

Insufficient melancholy -

my shadow alongside

the shadow of your life.

There is no word

for this emotion,

this self-indulgent sadness

has no design

no plan

no purpose.

There is no word,

there are no words …...

 

Wedding Anniversary 2026

 

1970-2026

Fifty-six years,

countless moments,

but, undisguised,

more behind than lie ahead.

So these are precious moments,

to taste and savour

aching for more,

never enough

to sate the hunger

of love.

kw