Seven word Sunday (on Tuesday)

Gray sky and rain

Glimpsed through skylight.

Flag flaps on building as storm builds.

Music as background to idle cafe chatter.

Red waratahs contrast

With green agapanthus leaves.

Kitchen clatter signals

It's nearly closing time.

 11.11.13

Red roses

Pop Kendall had a very minimal garden – whatever survived was hardy and thrived on little or no care. He did however have a rose bush that produced the most beautiful, strongly scented red blooms every year.

Peter was not given to romantic gestures but I do remember one time he came to pick me up for a dinner date carrying a bunch of red roses, open and beaming and flooding the surrounds with strong rose perfume. It was a spontaneous gesture on his part which totally won me over.

Since that day I have always sought out red roses with a strong perfume, perhaps because of the memories I associate with that random act of generosity.

Red roses for

True love.

The heady perfume

Floods the senses

And imprints

For the future.

Now I always seek out

Full flowering roses

To remind me

Of that bunch of roses

So many years ago.

25.7.13

Murder averted

A carpet of feathers
grey and white,
some long, some short
reveals the scene of the battle.

Fortuitous intervention 
means 
the small pigeon 
is spared.

Warrior cat 
rages and sulks 
in frustration 
as he is contained in the house.

26.1.13

Small stone 1.1.13

The pounding of the waves
Is background to my thoughts. 
As I plan my letter to myself
The sun beats down
And the tide gets higher on the beach.

I lay on my back in the pool
Supported by the salty water.
My eyes closed tight
And the sun beating on my closed eyes
Pulsates in shades of red and orange.

Small Stone 5.2.12

Praying monk

Eyes closed

Hands clasped over his knee

Rapt in contemplation.

He is a worthy meditation prompt.