Everyday Poetry

Not long after I met my husband he introduced me to a new saying: my head's a shed.  It captures the disorder of my brain beautifully!  Shed  My head's a shed Where half finished, totally forgotten projects Lie abandoned amongst components For projects not yet dreamt of,  Old oddments held ready For that 'it'll come in handy one day' moment When my hoarding instinct will be vindicated,  Provided I can find them.  Copyright Chris Auger 2020. All rights reserved.

Leaves swirl softly down This hot Indian summer: Golden memories. Copyright Chris Auger 2020. All rights reserved.

A recent prompt was to capture a glimpse of something. It's a dreary, grey day today,  so I thought back to our summer holidays in France where I  can sunbathe and swim to my heart's content, while Phil pursues his own passion - fishing.   Prone beside the rose bushes At one with the almost too hot sun, Trickles of sweat turning bronzing skin wet I stir, and stand, before Passing quickly over prickly dry grass,   To the cool promise of the pool, hidden Under the trees, giving a hint of a breeze. Once in, I swim, first Up and down, round and round, Then float lazy and calm, Listening to splashes hissing On the baked paving, savouring this Glimpse of bliss.   Copyright Chris Auger 2020. All rights reserved.