Rough ideas, not fully formed poems.
TransitioningYesterday, London was cool with sharp sunlight slanting through bare branches Misty mornings Air chilled to a crisp Greyness filled with grey days Here the air is warm and close It smells like a greenhouse Emerald leaves curtsey in the rain Vertical tracks bend the light at the window pane Miniature waterfalls Outside an aeroplane reverses and Lightning splashes across the scene What’s above the clouds? I wonder Thunder grows from somewhere Deep inside the low, thick sky To my right is a large circle of friends Solemn One of them sobs. No-one meets his eye Tomorrow it will be summer Tomorrow I will still be fighting And chips will fall away Landing like rubble And on the beach the waves will beat Washing up surprises from afar Tomorrow it will be summer.
ChangeLike A flash of lightning Out The porthole window Land flowing between rivers Dozing Among films and songs sung to myself Like When you blink and the light shifts Calm Foreshadowing the clash Feel The changes coming Like A breath before diving Breathe New air. Washed in rain. Land With a splash, and let the wake of it rise around you, like a parade heralding the return of a hero. Or a plane touching down in a puddle After flying so high for so long Like The delicious tummy roll you feel when thunder tumbles around you Like A flash of lightning