sancho. cowboy boots. a dream realised

My long held dream of a pair of Sancho cowboy boots has finally been realised.

I can now wear them all the time, and without the faintest hint of irony.
With thanks to my friend Rachel who reminded me how much I love Sancho cowboy boots.
If only everything was so easy to achieve.
I was going to write a poem to celebrate them, but they are poetry all by themselves.

Here is an outbreak of Sancho in my back garden. Fabulous.

poem. obscured. destination.

 

destination

an idea obscured

perhaps

more than

the present

path

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  I couldn't quite believe the veil of rain and mist in West Wales yesterday.

genuine piece of magic. columbine flowers.

I only know one piece of real magic. Here it is. Aquilegia, or columbine, is a much loved early summer garden flower. Here is a lovely one from my garden,

It's a flower that those who love gardens know really well, and they are a delight in the flower border. The name 'columbine' comes from the latin 'columba' meaning dove. Have another look at the flower. Can you see the little doves?

And now you will always see them. And I think that's a genuine piece of magic.

Lohengrin. opera. sandwiches. cake

I usually expect to doze comfortably through the second act of an opera, and awake with some good ideas for poetry in my mind. However, the WNO production of Lohengrin at Wales Millenium Centre this evening was so thrilling and beautiful that I stayed conscious for the whole evening.

Our usual Wagner tribute picnic in the two intervals celebrated the swan, of course. Here are the sandwiches, photographed on a stylish leatherette seat;

and here is the cake, with a curiously relevant cake tin in the background;

paeony. sudden departure. summer flowers.

                            I have had three  paeony flowers in a pot on the mantelpiece.

This morning the flowers had dropped nearly all their petals.

I know they are only flowers but their sudden departure was rather upsetting,

then I saw one of them had left me a heart on the sitting room floor.

ampersand obsession. update.

My ampersand obsession has flowered with the help of my friend Rachel.

We are collecting images to make a zine.

An andzine, of course.

It's a huge subject.

We could be at it forever. With an ampersand, you never have to stop

poem. almost enough.

  in the garden a

bird sings the sky
is blue there is
no noise from traffic the
tree whispers leaves are
shining the air is
warm what a beautiful
quiet place