The random ramblings of a magpie mind

Five o’clock wakenings to birdsong and the slow scratch of lizards behind glass. Sunlight filters through slatted blinds calling cats fro...

‪The sea whispers quietly, enticingly‬ ‪Slipping over sands to caress my toes‬ ‪I will be gentle, it sighs‬ ‪Winding round my legs like a...

 Last week normality ceased as the broadcast came  and  doors shut on faces we greeted every morning.  Now we move through days as if unde...

This small shell Washed by waves  That ebb and roll in timed rotation Wearing away ridges Smoothing sharp angles This delicate fa...

The barbers has a rhythm all its own Muted news, soft soul tunes    clipper hum  and faint scratch of razor on strop This  emporium...

There is a cat on the stairs, who stands and stares  as I slip on the sixth step;  my joints as stiff as his smile.  I slip, he topples...

This is the witching hour; the time before dawn where a faint glow low on the horizon filters through dark skies, shepherding in a new day....