30 days into July

no swifts today

  no sadness

  they fledge

        fly

Elaine Patricia Morris (c)

29 days into July

Dashing dodging
showers of freshness
silver scattered
amongst the flowers
across the car park
wavy rainbows
sway in puddles
why dash by.
Pitter patter
on the car roof
makes me grateful
keeping dry
windscreen wipers
giving rythmn
marking time
until it stops.

Elaine Patricia Morris (c)

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27 days into July

the early evening sun

dazzles as it glints

in puddles collected

on a wet summer day.

Unseen rainbows

nurturing growth.

..

Elaine Patricia Morris (c)

26 daya into July

Katauta……

I want the freedom

of bubbles on windy days

carrying rainbows and light.

Elaine Patricia Morris (c)

25 days into July

…….Katauta…..
I don’t wake up well
it takes me 2 or 3 hours
to find purpose in the day

…….Tanka…..
the pale grey stillness
of a manchester morning
here in the suburbs

cushions me from intrusion
while I drink my tea

…….Haiku…..
becoming concious
of the world beyond my spot
today’s life begins

Elaine Patricia Morris (c) 

A query in July

If there are clouds in the paper and stories in the clouds why are we writing ?

Elaine Patricia Morris (c)

17 days into July

I am doing a Writing and Spirituality course run by Writing Our Way Home and this week we are looking at perseverance. 

Job

waiting game

or working game

we have to persevere

towards

work

beavering patiently

toiling with discipline

we must still persevere

onward

phew !

flowers bloom

sit back relax

our perseverance pays off

success

Elaine Patricia Morris (c)

Moon dance

The moon poured onto the sea

an ever flowing stream

danced on the waves

edging closer to the shore.

As she slipped nearer

to the indigo horizon

pouring more slowly even then

yet losing nothing.

Elaine Patricia Morris (c) July 2017

Dove Cottage

A silken rain fell in Grasmere

but it didn’t spoil the day

no more than it did the poetry

William Wordsworth wrote while there.

(c) Elaine Patricia Morris

3 days into July

For Faith and Spirituality.

The quiet boat edged along

where warblers sang and

shoals of tiny sticklebacks

waltzed just beneath the surface.

Glistening jewels embroidered

the sun drenched lake.

Elaine Patricia Morris (c)