I've fallen off the edge of the world, wonder where I'll land.
Made my bed so I suppose I got to lie in it. Life's a curate's
egg when all said and done.

I read my poems and surprisingly I like them. No I didn't say
they were great; just that I liked them.
Flotsam & Jetsam. Oh the lovely memories of a winter'��s morn
waking the riverside pathway, yes the one that goes down to
the sea.

A murder of crows, kicking the dirt with well worn boot. I love
that line for some reason, and that homely light giving thoughts
of log fires. Dragged that up from a visit to my sisters in France
in the middle of winter. I'��ll try the summer next time.

What about "Wind blown shadows," they came to my notice
while I was standing at a bus stop. Pays you not to daydream
all the time. And Black lacquered skies, I think I was painting the
wrought iron gate with that metal stuff when that occurred to me.
Hard to get that treacle off your fingers.

Something else has just occurred to me, and that is I'��m probably
boring you all out of your minds. But I was also thinking of us
"Poets?" beavering away all over the world, and I felt I was among
friends.

P S I'm not going to edit this, so it goes on the site just as i've typed it.

Bill

Bill, very nice.

You are indeed among friends Bill. Thank you for sharing your words. I enjoy reading them.

really Nice....!!!

Thank you both