I saw a leaf fall,
and thought to catch it
though this seemed futile as
I could not stem the flood
of those that would follow.
All I could do was sit there
looking out of the window
at the steady accumulation on the lawn
whilst the tree grew
an air of melancholy.
chocolate cheesecake (other flavours too)
sherry trifle (ahaa)
apple tart and custard (yep)
jam roly poly (okay)
chocolate mousse (other mousses are available)
bread and butter pudding
rice pudding (not a particular favourite I have to say)
rhubarb crumble (neither is this)
plum pudding (mmm)
steamed sponge pudding
sticky toffee pudding (uhuh)
ice cream (Davison’s Manx Ice Cream)
fruit salad (healthy option)
strawberries and cream (definitely especially with raspberries added in and topped with sugar)
lemon curd (ye-es – not yess)
lemon meringue pie (memories of childhood)
syllabub (in a champagne glass in my experience and never enough of it)
baked apples (bit boring in my book)
tiamisu (mm)
yoghurt (pronounced yo – gurt)
baked alaska (brrr)
barbecued bananas (ideally cooked with sugar and brandy then topped with cream)
flan (of all sorts though not quiche which is unsuitable as a dessert)
gateaux (fluffy ones are best)
and finally
cheese and biscuits (strong and smelly and including TUC and preferably eaten before the sweet and washed down with red wine)
sorry if I have missed anything out – comment if you like
There’s something about getting up early to travel somewhere. There’s a smell to it, especially if the weather looks as if it is going to be nice. The roads are clear. The journey to the station is a lot quicker than it would have been a couple of hours later. When you get there the car park is fairly empty so you can pick your spot.
This morning I am in Newark Northgate station catching the 06.46 to the big city. The situation is exactly as described above. Last night there was a red sky and so of course this is a pleasant early morning.
On my way in from the car park a man runs past. The 06.26 has just pulled in to the station and he needs to be on it. In my mind he is not going to catch it but looking up at the screen I see that he has two minutes so he is probably ok.
The staff are all in. In fact at the Costa Coffee on platform 1 there are three staff and just me. I grab a latte and a croissant and make my way to the waiting room. There’s no one else on the platform although a couple of newspaper readers have staked out the waiting room. Detectives with nobody to watch but each other.
Gradually, as we approach train time, the platform is starting to fill up. Someone strikes up a conversation in the waiting room. That first word seems almost like a wake up call. The transition of night into day. It has disturbed my reverie.
The imminent arrival of the train is announced and I emerge from the comfort of the waiting room to stand on the platform. Outside the day has definitely arrived. Whirring noises and chatty teenagers mix with still stony-faced commuters steeling themselves for another day down their pit. I get on the train and leave Newark behind…
later
the masses wash onboard at Peterborough, disrupt the carriage and settle into their own personal mode of survival. Internet access slows to a snails pace or goes into reverse, resuming normal service
For the record the first leaves fell today,
The first act of autumn
As the season holds sway,
The swath of russett, withering wound,
Scars the hedgerow, then lies bloodless on the ground.
The rake renews the grassy sheen
Though thankless is the temporary stay,
For tomorrow battle will renew,
Continued work aplenty
As night descends on day.
It’s early but I’m up. When you’re awake you’re awake. So I’m sat here on the settee in the front room.
Although we live slap bang in the middle of town there is a silence about the place at this time in the morning. It’s an unusual contrast of noise and no noise. I can hear lorries as they drive past outside. I don’t normally notice the noise of the traffic outside. I’m used to it.
Then there’s the clock. I didn’t even know it ticked but I can hear it clearly now. At first when I heard it I thought to myself “that’s a clock ticking! It must be in another room”. Upon investigation I realised that it was the clock on the mantlepiece in the room where I was sat. Amazing! My life will probably never be the same again. Every time I walk into this room I will hear the clock ticking. I’m not sure that this is a change for the good.
Ah well. It must all point to our house being a noisy house though because I don’t notice any of these sounds during the day. Actually the traffic is now also irritating me. How dare it intrude. I don’t hear it when I’m in bed and the bedroom is on the same side of the house as where I’m sat now – the double glazing in the bedroom probably accounts for that.
At 5.44 I can hear Tom move about above me. It isn’t natural for a teenager to be up this early ?. It’s still very dark out although there are plenty of lights in town. They seem to contrast with the darkness. There is dark and there is light. No in between.
The traffic has died down again but the clock still ticks…
My shoe my shoe, it’s driving me nuts
Alternate steps squeak, no ifs no buts
I’ve altered my gait, tried to change my tread,
Every other pace taken makes a sound that I dread,
When walking along my damn foot’s too noisy,
And oil is no option because that’s too slippery
It wasn’t like that when I tried on the shoe
It seemed perfectly fine when it was brand new
But now it’s at home and I’ve worn it around
It’s too late to take back to the shop I’ll be bound
I can’t sneak up on friends and surprise from behind
They can tell that I’m coming coz the squeak springs to mind
My shoe my shoe, I’d be ever so glad
If someone could help me, it’s driving me mad
All trains delayed
Overhead line problems
At Peterborough
Huge queues milling
On the platform
At Kings Cross
It isn’t quite the same
As the spirit
At Dunquerque
Adversity has not yet
united us – we are not
At one with each other
The commuters are tired
This is the last thing they need
At going home time.
I saw him in a bar in the City. He was stood on his own with a newspaper and a beer, dressed casually at a time when most others were pouring out of their offices in their city slicker suits. Although we nodded at each other as I caught his eye I made no effort to engage with him. I was in the company of business associates with a specific discussion to be had.
I had heard that he had moved on from his job with one of our competitors “to spend more time with his family” or some such motive. He was outside my threesome and suddenly it felt as if he was a total outsider. I no longer saw him at industry gatherings. He was completely out of the picture. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to him. I just had other priorities and now very little in common.
I continued with my closed conversation and when next I looked he had gone.
All last year he was there, ushering, waving, shepherding. I got the occasional nod of acknowledgement as I stopped at his polite but firm behest. Sometimes I stopped before he had even asked. I felt in tune with him. If I was early he would be there leaning against the hedge, waiting for his punters to turn up. Dressed in his bright yellow coat and carrying his lollipop he was always there. It was comforting. You felt good to be with him, albeit for the few short seconds it took to drive past, or to slow down and stop, then pass. You felt you were part of his community and that his short working day was a wonderful contribution to that community.
This morning as I drove to work it occurred to me that I didn’t see him on the first day back to school. Then I didn’t think about it for a few days. I must have been away for some of that time and so as I drove up to the traffic island opposite the school today I looked out for him. There he was, or so I thought from a distance. That bright yellow coat and black hat. However something didn’t seem right as I drove closer. It wasn’t the old lollipop man! It was a lollipop lady and not him. It depressed me. I have nothing against the lady but I felt that my links to that community were suddenly strained. I became concerned..
His was another walk on role in my life. Really a background piece of transient action as the tapestry rolled on.
Deep down amongst the grasses green
That grow on the Wiltshire plains
There’s a flower known as Lily
Who blossoms whenever it rains
It’s an odd way around I’m sure you’ll agree
But Lily’s no normal plant
Her golden petals and beautiful scent
Warm the heart of each passing ant
The beetles all love her and bees simply swoon
Each time Lily pops out of the ground
Every year in the spring when the sun comes again
In the meadows is where she’ll be found.
The cows are her friends and they leave her to bloom
Without adding her leaves to their cud
Though they have to take care not to tread on her stalks
When the ground all around churns to mud
Because Lils likes it most when the rains come to soak
– it’s the sky shedding tears of delight
At the thought of young Lily beginning to smile
What a beautiful, beautiful sight.
I dream my internet dreams
asleep surfing the screens
that lay inside my eyelids,
long slammed shut.
my brain clicks,
flits its way webward
visiting the sites that,
wide awake, I meander,
pondering the theft of
my most precious days.
my internet dreams
take an ethereal existence
virtually to new heights
but all too soon I wake,
history wiped clear,
no bookmark beneath my pillow
and my journey starts again.
The harvest is in, except for a few cornfields, left for the sweet anticipation of another day. The stubble that remains provides an interesting contrast with other textures in fields adjacent. The pale green growth of next year’s early season crops. Magnetic brown, newly ploughed terrain, full of seagulls.
The farmer slumps across the wheel of his hi tech controlled-environment crop processing machine; tractor to me and you. Although the air conditioning does away with the need for sweating its soul is there, metaphorical perspiration.
Barns bulge and granaries groan. Tables bend under the weight of produce served up to open eyed families and wider circles of friends, privileged guests for the forthcoming feast. Corks pop, laughter pervades then slows to a silence. We slump into hibernation.
You are now entering the congestion zone
6th form college enrolling now
High Quality Offices To Let
Marks and Spencer – Simply Food
Paul Ponsonby Specialist Distribution
The Firm – in cinemas September 18th
not completely confident female cyclist
Crouch End Number 91
London Euston
Internet Phone Booth
Dorian Grey – in cinemas 090909
Going Green for London
Mayor of London’s Skyride Sunday 20th September
OMG! my chunky just got funky?
sand blows in my face as together on the towel, we huddle,
a solitary woman sits with a bucket and spade whilst her kids play at the edge of the waves
no sharks sneak up and snaffle
a child spouts ad hoc poetry:
armpit hair
underwear
people who don’t care
boys who won’t share
4 people sitting in a row on camping chairs facing outwards
a young mother struggles with her pushchair over the sand and shouts “Tylor James wait for me!”
windmills out at sea
windbreaks wrap around their people and red and yellow flags brace themselves in the breeze
a fairground in the background dips large, rolls along the coast, big wheel sliding off the pier
lifecrew
my hat blows off in the wind and I envisage equally windswept coasts opposite in Germany and Holland
plenty of photographic opportunities:
two red and blue kites flying in breeze
donkeys turning
towels flapping
a basketball bounces on the path behind
a man appears out of the water wearing long white swimming shorts and a white old fashioned vest contrasting with his black skin
icecream, lollipops, burgers, whelks, crab sticks, doughnuts, haddock and chips with fluorescent mushy peas, cups of tea
flat stones skimming
seagulls squatting, floating
large clouds hovering, watching
smaller clouds higher up move more quickly
children fleeing chased by brown waves
slot machines, twopenny falls, horseracing
international bowling
out of the bushes comes an explorer
he says”cor blimey mate”
and back to the car we go
here dreams are sold
registered on the system
and brought through
for home assembly
in the comfort
of your living room
chose a colour
pick a pattern
fabric feels good
shut your eyes
sit back and relax
flatpack dreams
aaahhh!
self assembly dreams
float on by
discount dreams
50% off
for this weekend only
dream on
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