white flowers

I think perhaps some regular readers will know that I love bright flowers. I’m sure I’ve said that salmon pink geraniums and sunflowers are among my favourites.

So you can imagine my feelings when I realised that all the plants I bought this spring were white.
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assorted fruit

Today I bought nectarines in the market. Five big, dark fruits that will need several days before they’re anywhere near ready for eating. Five fruits that cost me £2.50.

As I walked home, I was thinking that if they ripen properly, they will be well worth it, but if, like so much produce these days, they ripen unevenly, or rot before they are truly ripe, I won’t be very happy: after all, they cost ten shillings a piece, and that is a lot of money.

I’m not sure what triggered that reversion to old money, nor quite what path it was that my thoughts followed past the old-fashioned rambling rose draped over the wall to the fruit-filled memories of childhood.
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more dragons

I mentioned recently that there are certain words and phrases that I use over and over again: “rather lovely” occurs in a dozen posts here, while a search on “glorious” brings up 11 pages – over 50 posts. But it’s not just language that repeats; it’s also the topics.

There are daisies and dandelions scattered across these pages almost as liberally as the actual flowers occur in the neighbour’s garden, while bees bumble between posts, swallows swoop down and swans glide through at irregular, but fairly frequent, intervals.
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blind hope

There are lots of old buildings around here, and many newer ones that pretend to be old or use details from older buildings.

Many of the architectural features are bricked up and I wonder what is behind them.

I think the correct word for the bricked in windows and arches is “blind” – though I’m not sure if that is only for ones that were never intended to be open.
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fantastical flora & fauna

For some reason, I’ve been thinking about fairy tales.

I’ve already mentioned that the tree lupin buds made me think of alien claws, but I’m pretty sure the plant is terrestrial, so perhaps it’s more like the talon of a mythical bird.

Lupins weren’t the only flowers I found in my mother’s garden last week that transported me into the world of the imagination.
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tangentially topical

The new General Data Protection Regulation came into force in the EU yesterday and the topic of security – albeit cyber security – has been in most people’s minds, which makes the photo at least slightly apposite.

The poem – written in Spain seven or eight years ago – is a repost, but it’s the best fit for the photograph – taken recently in England:

Camaraderie

In the greystone shadow
of the old jail, three men share
smokes and anecdotes. Two
wear drab and polished black,
the third raises his cigarette
between cupped hands.
Metal glints at his wrists.

a little background

Years ago, I belonged to a mixed-genre writing group. I was one of the few members who primarily wrote poetry, so I was delighted when another poet – Don, an American university professor – settled in the city for a few months and started to attend meetings with his wife. (I can’t remember what she wrote; it may have been academic writing rather than creative.)

I’ve often thought that poets get short-changed at writing groups as they are expected to give feedback on all the other members’ work in a range of genres, but frequently get no useful comments about their poems.
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