A Watery Haiku...

 


Cole Farlow


Sinuous strands weep

to silent water below

mirror of the sky


Jaqui

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

He drowned in Dublin Bay - Conversations heard at the Fen Edge, quoted verbatim but reordered

Image
  Roger is a great collector of things said and has curated a collection of snippets of conversation - performed by Roger and Simone on January 21st and The Fenscapers first public reading on January 21st, 2022. We've had a nice time And we didn' ‎ t talk about it all day But one’s on guard the whole time. As I was yesterday! When they first made a fuss about it, you used to do it, I know you did! ​ I'm legally retired now. They say that soon retirement will last for infinity. ​ When are you going on holiday? Thursday – we’re going the day before, as the first fright(sic) is early Friday. She’s gone home for Ramadan So she doesn’t have to starve for so long each day. I can have as ​ m ​ uch fun at home as going there by train. You know my husband Mike, don’t you? He’s got big hands too!’ I didn’t say anything, but……..!! You remember what happened. He drowned in Dublin Bay! But can you drown in Dublin Bay? Well, if you can drown in a bath, I'm sure you can! I'm ...
Read more

A Curated Object - An Unremarkable Cup

Image
  One of my favourite possessions is a basic utilitarian object: a sixty year-old glazed stoneware rubber tapping cup. When Dad gave it to me a few years ago, I was delighted. Others might see it best used as drainage in plant pots. But to me it is a remarkable object: aesthetically pleasing, a reminder of my childhood, and an object that speaks resoundingly of colonial power and the rise and fall of a lucrative industry that changed an entire country. So much significance for such a modest object!   Dad acquired the cup in Singapore where he was posted by the RAF from 1959 to 1962 to develop aerial reconnaissance photographs towards the end of the Communist insurgency of 1948 to 1961. This was the happiest time in my parents’ marriage. A third daughter and a son were added to our existing family of four, and we enjoyed all that RAF life offered. As often as he could, Dad would take us into the countryside to see wildlife and the local people going about their lives. Fam...
Read more

Oh Sweet William!

Image
Look at you, with your pastoral charms,  ripe for the picking curvaceous and smooth, pale green and firm,  large, pyriform bottom. Your sweetness is sickly,  but always bearable, to me. In full sun, you tend to blush, flush, your naked skin a rosy pink. I spin you around, admire you from every angle. Shapely, exquisite. A gentle squeeze leaves dimples,  barely imperceptible indents on your thin outer layer.  Your pale white innards, once hard, compact, when rolled between my tongue and the roof of my mouth,  now a mushy, grainy consistency. Your juice oozes between my teeth, sweetens my gums. No crunching here, just slurping. Sticky juice trickling down my chin and arms. I’ve devoured your pastoral charms. Simone Chalkley Image by Vitya Lapatey
Read more