Bird's Eye View

Their nest is their castle
or
Shabbiness is in the eye of the beholder.

 

Monochrome Monday

They did not birch me.

Point of view

The frog sitting in the well takes its brim for the horizon.

On the road

Almost flying . . .

Translucent

A ball is no disc.

Waiting at a traffic light

Lord of the dandelions.

Planks . . .

. . . in shed's own window.

Glimpse of early rape

. . . on leaving the village . . .

Ephemerality

The cherry tree's . . .

. . . flowerage . . .

here does it end.

Rhapsody in Green

. . . while waiting for a train.

Friday is Skyday

Stairs to . . . ?

On the road

Green green trees of home.
Or so.

Mayday

There's a humming and buzzing,
a droning and whirring in and around Seanhenge*,
and a blaze of colours that would fill anyone
who has ears to hear, eyes to see and a nose to smell,
with joy and happiness.

* Thankfully, Seanhenge happens to be not situated
in . . . and . . . and . . . and . . . and . . .
oh well, you get the picture.
I am grateful.