Water to spare

‘Water to spare’

~~~

A dog’s tail, an empty chair, an empty terracotta pot. Anticipation. Lush. Inside outside interaction. Who waters? Who sits? Who is the sleeping collie waiting for?

~

Yellow wall and red geraniums, green growth of many shades and shapes. Who chose the vibrant warm wall colour? A corner of a cane table with text heavy folded paper. A broadsheet. Who reads?

~

Can we guess the occupants’ race or creed or country? Could it be North America or Europe? It doesn’t seem parched enough for Africa or most of Asia or Australia. Water to spare for pretty household plants, a collie in the house not herding sheep or cattle. Time enough for reading the Times.

~

Just a glance at a small corner of a lucky life lifts and heals my heavy heart.

~~~

This is an ‘ekphrastic’ poem, ie a prose poem written in response to an image

I have been learning about different poetic forms from Alison Smith who runs the free Facebook group ‘Womens School of Metamorphosis, Radical change from inside out’

https://www.facebook.com/groups/wsmradicalchangeinsideout/?ref=share

beetroot soup and other colours

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My studio this morning and a diversion into the culinary arts!

Beetroot soup heralds the changing seasons for me. Pulling the magenta globes from the cold soil, twisting off the crinkly green and purple tops, the deep marroon of the cooking water, the use of the top of the range for the first time this year.

A frustrating morning in the studio. Managed to put a hole through a canvas I was hoping to reuse. Cleaned out the sink and rescued about 15 solidifying paint brushes. Threw away several unsalvageble ones

Will eat the soup and return to the fray with renewed vigour