Cooling sun lowers it’s
April bulk behind the rooftop horizons.
Light will fade, die;
Clouds shift, shiver, sigh,
Spilled hot blood
Cool, congeal
Then dry.
We are the ones out of step,
The ones out of place, here;
We always were:
The dishonourable thieves,
Society wreckers,
Trouble seekers and
Storm brewers.
Adventures in the life of an English allotment
Original Nature Photojournalism
Garden Blog of the Year 2016
Welcome to my world: digging, harvesting and other stuff
for your family
The evolution of an old farmhouse, an American woman, an Englishman and their dogs.
Sharing moments of life + motherhood to encourage fellow mommas
If you could go anywhere you wanted, where would you be headed right now?
surfing my tsunami
blowing through the cobwebs of my mind
Just another WordPress.com weblog
Writing the Wrong, Right, and Ridiculous
Life after the Care Farm
The most Dangerous plant to sleep under is the water lilly
Local History for Great Wyrley and Surrounding Areas
Tales from the mouth of a wolf
introspection & reflection, poetry & prose
Posts about old Hollywood, current concerns
Gunn4
I appreciate your support. Thanks to your last response, although I’m responding from this post. I’m still in a bit of shock about Prince.
Couldn’t agree more; but we were lucky enough to have known his works and inspiration eh?
Yes, definitely. It also makes me think of the inevitable that all the aging wonders still alive now will eventually die. Obvious, but not on our minds until someone like that dies. Such is the nature of life . . .