Monthly Archives: March 2015

Seasons of Love

.  .  .  .  .  .  .   I love you. 
                  The dips and the 
          crests of you. The wild living 
      heart of you. I love every part of you. 
        In spring you grow and deepen and in 
    summer you glow. In autumn I leave you. As 
  I walk  away weeping, you rustle and sigh 
  behind me, your extremeties dying. But winter
      is for sleeping and we have to part for a  
   while. When warmer weather returns you will 
      stretch and grow again. You will protect me  
     and caress my spirit with bright flowers.   
       You will welcome me into the heart of you.
             Again I will walk your verdant 
                    paths, and smile
                      beneath 
                       your 
                       ever 
                      expand -
                    ing canopy 
                of  green  leaves

© Jane Paterson Basil

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Friday Potatoes

I’ve found a fantastic blog created by Esther Newton. It’s really worth checking out. She posts all sorts of useful information for writers, and has several fun features, one of them being a weekly challenge, which this week is to write a 10 word story including the words ‘Friday’ and ‘Potato’. How could I resist? I have decided to share my 3 efforts here.

potato-306288_640

One potato to last until Friday,
but we have rice.

^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^

I work Monday to Friday.
Weekends?
I’m a couch potato

^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^

Caviar and champagne on Friday.
Saturday to Thursday; potato soup.

^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^

© Jane Paterson Basil

Sea Mist

beach
image: https://www.flickr.com/photos/dsifry/2173895296/

twenty years have passed since
we walked along dampened sands
hands clasped but hearts far apart
the sky a grey parasol
remorselessly dulling the sea
reflecting my inner misery
expanding my need
to be free of this foolish fakery

nearby, a glimmering
sea-smoothed scrap of green glass
offered opportunity, excuse
to extricate my hand
from unwanted grasp
and to hunt amongst the
refuse of the waves, away
from unwanted contact

lost in the flotsam trail
the atmosphere adjusted

beyond my consciousness
misty droplets massed
unnoticed in my hair
as I stared towards the sand
searching for worn down
nautical treasures

a close spectral lull
compelled me to glimpse up
the sky had dropped its
neutral cloak
to mill around me
smoke like, a muffled mystery
that damply carressed my skin
the world had faded away
and all that remained
was me, briefly elated
in my tiny cosmos

I inhaled deeply
revelling in the vapour
of that flash of freedom.

the sky lifted from my skin
bringing visibility as it receded
I watched the waves wash the shore
the scene remained the same
but peace, like a warm breeze
had brushed against me
imparting the ability
to survive another day

© Jane Paterson Basil