poetry – Page 73 – don't confuse the narrator

forbidden favourites

Although most people agree that autumn starts with the equinox, which doesn’t fall for another week, it seems that Christmas is already looming, with cards on sale in the shops, and gift catalogues dropping through the letterbox. I never sign up for printed catalogues, but they arrive unsolicited, and offer temptations in the form of all sorts of trinkets and knick-knacks I never knew I needed.

Of course, once you start to buy gifts, some sort of wrapping is required. The latest catalogue offered this interesting set of gift bags:

Gift bag description: "sprinklied with irredecent glitter"

It’s not a charity I had ever thought of supporting, but if I had more time, I might be tempted to offer my proof-reading skills at a reduced rate.
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on the fly

So, it’s Saturday morning and I haven’t much idea about what to post on the blog.

Hmm… Cue for a song? Another Saturday dawns and I ain’t got no blog post/ I got some photos, but I got no words/ How I wish I had something to write about/ I’m in an awful way… Maybe not.

Still, it’s true that I have some photos. This is what I found when I downloaded the last lot from my camera:

So, the theme for the day seems to be flies.
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brown study

Well, it’s not the study itself that’s brown, but many of the small objects on the shelf are. Some are natural, others man-made; some were gifts, while others were picked up around the garden and elsewhere.
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the language of flowers

outside the florist’s,
the bright chatter
of pansies.

Which is strange, really, as the word “pansy” derives from the French pensée – “thought”. It would be logical to expect them to do more thinking than talking, but they always look to me as if they are checking out the passers-by and gossiping enthusiastically.

swallows II

Dark blades slice through the air, turn
sideways to the sun, flash silver, turn
into bright fish that glide in endless blue.

There are no swallows in the picture as they move too fast for my limited photography skills. The sky, on the other hand, is never-ending blue and doesn’t pose the same problems.

The post title is “swallows II” because this is not the first poem I have posted about swallows.