.the little play.

passenger to driver.                 i have never been upstairs on this bus.

driver to passenger.                 this is  a single decker

passenger to driver.                  yes. i have not been on the upper deck.


driver to passenger.                 i do not drive double deckers.


passenger to driver.              i guess you need two drivers with one to drive upstairs

while you drive below


driver to passenger.            the two decks are stuck together. the top goes along with the                                                      bottom deck with one set of wheels.

driver smiles



passenger to driver.            there is a chocolate bar.


driver.                                    fudge.




sweet columbine who runs so lightly


please be me


flimsy misty dress

little smile of sweet & honest charity


let it be me

let me dance the world away

in black with  white & melody


let them like me & applaud


this world away



.the bird was unexpected.

Sonja: ‘the bird was not as expected.’

I enjoyed a lot about this poem: the crystal clear language and imagery, the free lineation and the unexpected syntax (e.g. “we walk the woods / back home”). It had the feeling of an extended haiku and reading it left me with a feeling of weightless content, which means it more than met the terms of the challenge.”

Thanks Tom.

sonja benskin mesher

it is a clear word

as water pure and bouncing

off rocks

a bird


messing about

remembering #

days mud building dams

fighting the tide

pushing back years

running the path

fighting for freedom

then it comes



the lark


having written of the hour,

move on when all is lost.

the days remain


today, we walk the woods,

back home.


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leaving heysham

looking for a legacy i find nothing

no words no comfortable leavings

parting on the wrong side can be painful /

some hide secrets



pound discount on the lorry


explorers do not really need fancy notebooks



goods wrapped mainly in plastic the invention must have seemed a good idea

the sun came &

shadows lasted only a short time


it was quite a shock  that there are no boxes left

only those of a different size

quite a shock your anger that leapt from nowhere


of course it does not matter

yet with that and the moon how can one sleep

how can one pack and tidy when things are the wrong  shape and emotions rise

do me a favour and know it was a favour looking for boxes

foundation for these days
hard work won
there is another way with privacy and organisation
leave things simple leave things be a while

oversight and overland travel

i was asked a couple of weeks ago if i looked out for the lorries would i describe
no not any more

yet the bridge is small and narrow seems room for two to pass

i took the other road wondering why the block  saw the burned ground
fuller cloud 
looked down on the tower

went home alone

i am short without magnification
with electrical notes & other insignificant items
did i tell the story of my life
i asked before

i cannot say

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is this jane austen
the same that deleted

is this the book mark
hunted for
in the bed.

light dispersing.

is this the character
with bad

or the sickly child
looking for escape…..

it was world book day

ot thursday……



these days of jollities  cares slip away

shoulders down

we buy our little treat


mine red and white spotted

flamenco shoes


we visit the rarities,

charities and dusty

places where book binders

work late


tiny clean hands gently folding leather