15 stops. 40 minutes. each day.

Tag: prose

days like today.

that permeating kind of sun,where as soon as you step into it, you can feel it through your entire soul.

that lack of breeze, no tips on the waves, just cool,glassy nudges across the shore.

that time of quiet, where the birds have stopped, but the cars haven’t started, and all you can here is the slow stir of neighbours as they tend to their children, their pets, themselves.

and sunday. that most holiest of day of rest.

no plans, commitments, rsvp’s. no deadline, no timeline, no decisions except which hat to wear, and do I go swimming down the beach, or in the rock pool.
i live for days like this. days like today. wish you were all here. xxx


Tip toe

Tippy toe


I move so as not to disturb

your peace and quiet.

There is a game

I’m not going to play

with you.

Games denote competition

A battle, a duel

But fighting is not on my agenda

Neither is admitting defeat

For my goal is not a shining medal

Nor a shining knight,

See, I have my own light

Which shines within.

So, see.


my light does not wax

It does not wane.

only shifts in the flame

Of your smile.