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Archives for May 2017

Purse and cart.

We hold on to some things to get to other places .

So sayeth the sayer.

We are here today in front of the green door. We have no idea why it is green, just that it is a rich fertile lively color. 

I am patient with the others and they with me.

We wait for an elderly lady who looks like a fit 100 year old, because she projects that kind soft wisdom that we like – rightly or wrongly – to associate with people who are the age but look younger by far. 

There is a sparkle in our eyes. Most of the time.

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Highly Likely.

We have a candidate.

The pineapples are ripe and there are smiling gazebos in the park.

The lakes are frowning, but relaxed.

Doorways to regulations that self destruct after they have been acknowledged.

Crests fallen as expected.

We are sailing on marshmallow rivers.

We are climbing the tissue paper peaks.

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What they asked, inspired a wonderful answer.

We all wanted to know which way the wind blows when the ships come in to dock.

We don’t sell any new antiques, which is good, given the doubtful provenance of such things.

Dreams and believed tales of golden chalices and high-end music playing equipment, resulted in the new golden age flourishing like well-fertilized tulips.

A long table seats many and when more arrive, we make the table longer.

And yes, you are invited!

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There can be no greater style than the northern express.

That’s what they thought. Yet it sounded like the name of a train.

When you saw what they meant, it became obvious. 

Old clothes made new by spraying them with so much starch they would stand, unattended.

We are on to bigger fish today.

And somehow without you saying it, we think, so are you 

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The fields of the reddest poppies fulfilled  need she knew he had, before the stars shone upon a bank clerk’s forefinger.

The covers of some boxes of swiss chocolates tell stories no-one knew, the Italian chocolates filled an atmosphere with smoke like an old wood paneled cigar lounge. 

Sometimes we wondered if lace, powder and lipstick were enough. 

Weightlifting has been paused to allow the silk threads to take center stage.

The illuminated billboards shout to people who are listening for whispers.

The answers are here, there and everywhere.


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