Wishbone Soup Cures Everything

This batch brings my 24 hour miracle hunt to nearly 6am. This is too early to actually do the washing up, but I do manage to blearily accept the significance of it. Coffee helps.  221 While coffee brews in the jug, I will Be organised, drag the washing from The lovely machine that undertook Hard work for me as I slept 222 A whirl of wet fabric in the basket Waits for me to locate some boots And a mug for the coffee, and wonder If it’s too early to wake the dog 223 Dog thumps her tail in a slow beat I turn off the lamp we forgot last night And gather up the glasses and appraise The unfinished list of things to do 224 The washing up is waiting, is one of Those little repetitions that marks out Your life, this history in coffee rings, in The medium of smeared food stains 225 Two boots located, the washing is brought To the line, another confirmation of our Continuing adventures, pegged item by item Optimistic plastic faste...

Designed to be read aloud, to be mildly amusing and promote independent learning because sometimes it's a relief to do something obvious instead of leaving little inky clues. School For Dolphins Miami Phil was solidly fat and he always wore a gaudy shirt with shorts and sandals. He wasn’t necessarily American, but because of his girth, because he was rich and flashy, everyone called him Miami Phil. He introduced himself as Miami Phil, so he must have been happy with the name. He liked his name, his food, his shirts and his money.  He also had a particular liking for islands, the tropical hot sort with white sand and palm trees, not the craggy cold sort with puffins and moss on them. So it wasn’t really too remarkable that when he bought a tropical island, he also decided to build a luxury house there, for himself, and some villas, where people could pay him lovely money to be on holiday and look at his big house and admire it, and wish they had an island with su...

211 A trug of frozen apples, hard as Quartz pebbles, catch the light Crystal-coated, wondrous, paled Palm-sized apple plunder 212 The orchard apples drop to grass Are gathered up by tub and carted To the freezer, frozen up, hauled out To defrost, squash, ferment 213 First light halos the demi-johns On the dining table. Tints of Translucent yellow, tones of Red from rose to ruby 214 Another resurrection Of an ordinary day the light Ascending through the morning Colour gradient 215 Malcontent to find myself Awake so early, until I draw the old velvet curtains On this panoramic anomaly 216 The valley is flooded with mist The moors appear as a series Of Caribbean pirate islands Not where I expected to wake 217 This view opens my frown, it Nudges acknowledgement, I am Laughing at myself, at my quick Mood-skip 218 My decision is to make coffee And sit, watching the colours Change, outside, the pink...

I have been deliberately saving the bats for the other end of the day, but owl was almost overlooked because I don't see it as often. Once (stuck in traffic on the way to the Royal Cornwall Show) we saw an owl hunting in broad daylight. It had a grumpy look to it and we amused ourselves by inventing back stories for it.  201 A composition of washing hangs On the spare room airer, plastic rungs Provide a structure for the slung Socks and baby t-shirts 202 Over the landing banister The blue striped duvet cover dries It went camping, the wet dog had Left a print of herself on it 203 In the wash-basket, a crumpled History of last week in dank cotton Fast-wicking technical fibres and Odours of sweat, mud, seaweed 204 Surfboards lean in the shed Crunches of sand pressed into wax One board-bag zip jammed open, the Aluminium corroded by salt 205. The sky is dark until the earth rolls It still feels like the sun comes to us ...

With thanks to Boy for his scientific musings!  191 Mist rises to sheep midriff They bundle up the steep field-side Settle under the hazel tree, survey Perimeters of moor-land and water-vapour 192 Open moor-land lapses Into mist that sidles up Over everything but peaks And treetops 193 Woken by bladder pressure  Padding past the landing window Sleepy eyes marvel at the Silvering scenic sky 194 Point toes back towards bed And follow them under the duvet Where your warmth and rest are Waiting, just slump into it 195 There is the boat moored waiting At the lakeshore where I left it This dream like a holiday destination A revisit to a comfort zone 196 This enchantment of sleep puts Me under fast, holds me fast I will be reluctant to break the grip The seductive comfortable mesmerisation 197 Hard to know at any hour if the dream Is a distracting lie, or an alternative Truth, either way it is...

178 Beneath the sofa, dust and dog hair Caught in a house-tide, surges Round a mislaid dog-toy, catches The sofa legs in its silt 179 More dust is drying from Boot print patterned Mud trail across the living room Flaking on the laminate 180 Wood soot settles On everything in range The old DVD player broke Choked on domestic ash 181 Gravity settles dust, apples and Planets. At night we see mutually Forcibly attracted assemblages Of constellations 182 Moon-face pocked with evidence of Meteorite slams, eaten by Shadow, bite by bite, the Flat familiar slice of pale reflection 183 It doesn’t matter that the Moon is a bouncing point for Sunlight. Moon-glow is a specific Eerie friendly presence 184 Elvis on the fridge door is Holding a menu list in place Magnetically and a lobster has a Voucher for name-brand beer 185 Information on the bookshelves Include the art of the jumping Kick, identifying seabi...

161 As the ground thaws Wreathed fragments of Mist materialises In the dips of slopes 162 In the hospital bed Prioritising continues A list of things to live for A list of names 163 Out of all the morphine Phantasmagoria, the most fantastic Thoughts from the future Are recovery and love 164 Mist multiplies in substantial slabs Bounces back headlights makes The air turn thickly white The edges of the road are gone 165 Road-kill slouched At the verge, skin rolling with Revolting gorging chomping Revelling maggots 166 Foam-white wave tops fling inland Into visibility, joyous and dramatic Just for the love of it Spattering froth across tide-lines 167 A squirt of light alerts the fish Barely enough to reflect their silver Sided hustling for food In the wave-churned kelp 168 Seaweed bumps with fish Faint glint of silver and Electric pulses make A shark’s clock tick 169 Beautifully desi...