Blue sky is deceptive

Blue sky is deceptive

Sunlight creeping

Out through the cracks

In the weather

The wind restless

Murmurs in disapproval

Listless lizards twist away

Rustling hard into corners

Bloated Blue-tongues

Should be sleeping

There is no escaping the chill

Of winter even

When my heart says summer

Sun-dried leaves

An artless calling card

To be flipped impudently

As the mood takes it

Rolling over the ragged stone

Hairballs from a shaggy dog

Telling stories of loneliness

Baying for attention

In the darkness

Of the flat next door

Animals need company

A sad refrain

Stuck in the groove

On endless repeat

Migrating Spiders

Whipped on a breeze

Brisker than yesterday

Feather their webbed canopies

Like paratroopers

Angling to be carried

In a different direction

With a softer landing

Even concrete has cracks

Through which the earth

Can seep

Weeds are very hardy

Every gardener’s nightmare

Wildflowers are beautiful

In a fallow field

At the bottom of a valley

When the wind blows over

The hilltops

Kissing the grassy floor

Barely grazing the surface

Hoar frost nips green leaves

On cold mornings in England

Kent mist hangs low

Reflecting a watery sun

Dipped in the shallows

Of a clear blue sky

June in Australia

So much in common with November

In the home counties,

When the wind blows

There is no escape from

Cold shivers that could be

Mistaken for a tingle

Of anticipation

When the timing is right.