Gulls, sunshine, and daisies

I took some photos three days ago when the sun came out but my phone still hasn’t coughed them up so I think we can assume I’m not going to get them. Here are the short poems written for the pictures.


No snow in this tepid clime

where grass stretches livid green the winter long,

basking in the diamond-scattered light,

prismed and damp, of rain drops.

Wind blows cold,

tossing gulls, grey as fog

and strident as a traffic jam,

from wave to wave

of the restless river.


Grass glitters in the winter sun,

and daisies raise white frilled heads

in a field of diamonds.

Suddenly the sky is full of gulls,

and the air rings with their laughter.


Supple as silk,

colour of winter clouds,

gulls hang on the breeze from the sea,

blinking at snowflakes,

snapping at tossed scraps.




For the Secret Keeper’s weekly writing prompt

The prompt words were:



What inspired the mind

That worked the night and moulded space,

Sculpted the cold and made a world?

What power there was in breath,

Heavy with a thousand gases,

Bright with the fizzing lights of fission and fusion,

To produce the ever-swelling ocean,

That rolls to the edge of eternity and beyond.

Was it desire to create a masterwork,

Or was it simply the need to be?

Not enough to be the dark,

The pulsing nothingness of the void,

Not enough to feel the cold, bitter and unchanging,

Not enough to be the only thing.

I, though, hold a daisy in my hand,

Delicately, between forefinger and thumb,

Close enough to see the yellow flecks of dusty pollen

Glinting, sunspecks,

While the dripping globes of last night’s rain

Shine bright as any star.

Did you not know that this was enough?

While you howl in some black hole,

Some brilliant nursery of new stars,

An explosion, implosion, radiating pulsar,

Among the fierce, unknowable colours of your space garden,

I watch the rain fall upon the daisies.