Towel and soft white robe
Of Egyptian cotton
A cup of hot cappuccino
To start the day
There is no other way to describe it
It sure was a luxury stay
Padre
Towel and soft white robe
Of Egyptian cotton
A cup of hot cappuccino
To start the day
There is no other way to describe it
It sure was a luxury stay
Padre
Kelly enjoyed search through the lesser used volumes in the stacks. There was something about the “relationship” with a book that hadn’t “conversed” with someone else in decades, if not longer. As she look down a leather bound tome from the shelf she was surprised that a handwritten manuscript fell from its pages. At first she thought she had damaged the book, but it was clear that it had been placed in the volume as a bookmark some years ago. It bore a date over a hundred years old, and while it was “historical,” it was far from valuable for anyone other than its author and the initial recipient. It now spoke to Kelly as well, as she teared up on reading its simple and painful message of love lost. Dated 15 October 1917 and citing its place of composition as Passchendaele, Belgium, it spoke of a young man’s desire to leave the god-forsaken place and to return to “his Daisy’s” side. The letter concluded in a different hand merely stating, “I am so sorry, Peter has fallen.”
Padre
Open all hours come on in
As long as you have a mask on your chin
Nose and mouth covered too
Keep a metre’s distance if not two
Sanitise hands, wipe down your basket
We sincerely hope your visit’s fantastic
What’s that you want only to use the loo?
Sorry, but that requires flash wipes
And a purchase too
————————————-
Padre
Landmark glowing
Beacon bright
Giving direction through the night
Padre
Lure
Lore
A tall tale
The big one that got away
Grain of truth
Exaggerated
Hooked
Padre
Word association
If like Boris you ride a bike
Keep your social distance
Or better still hike
Padre
Bamboo slats, or lakeside reeds
Mere grass is all the craftsman needs
And a thing of function and beauty too
Soon takes form as his hands move
We too alone may not amount to much
But in our interactions, lives we touch
We are interwoven within society
Becoming more together than just “you” and “me”
Padre
Homeward determined
A lone rider braves the snow
With blinding drifts chill
And many miles yet to go
Warmth to find, Promise to keep
Padre
Early morn and a light fog cloaks the land
Earth crisp with the touch of Winter’s hand
Cold air sharp on nose and lungs
As you venture outwards under the weak sun
Early morn – the starlings begin their day
The frozen meadow underfoot crunches
As you make your way
Padre
Time to emerge and finally come out
We hear they have the vaccine – they talked about
Herd immunity from two quick jabs
That’s a relief ‘cuz I going lock down mad
What’s this – “It could take to the spring?”
Okay, then I crawl back, like in that groundhog thing.
Padre