This morning in the blowing gale, as i walked to work the blue funk held tight on to my pockets and cast a beady eye on the darkness ahead for one moment i thought a gap showed the moon but i could have been mistaken it was still early and my mind was just dusting away the night crawlers. A mid morning sun break glimmered for a short while and gosh felt i, could the blue funk turn pink..out from this possible pinkness came a shadow bringing an unexplained prose..in the shape of Mrs OZ....a lady whom i have admired for more than twenty years,those heavy breasts pushing against the trill buttoned shirts as she pushed her bike forth to the march of green wellies i ofton wondered how big her nipples were and all sorts of dark thoughts would slide around my mind after i had seen her..i would say in all those twenty years if we had exchanged more than a hundred words we could have written a book.But to day in the middle of my blue funk and the milky warm sunshine she stopped her bike and green wellies in the middle of the lane and her voice talked,we were perhaps like two people pictured on top of a chocolate box..the conversation was no more dangerous than the price of old stamps and how one could post local on the day and say one was coming around for tea..knowing it would have been delivered...and tea would have been served,such treasures have long since gone..and of all days why today did she stop surely she could not have read my mind all these years,for glances were mere seconds as her bike swiftly raced by back in those days..but i felt i wanted to record this it was a magic moment in this ever increasing up front smash and grab time warped world,it may never happen again but i just wanted myself to know that it really happened and nothing bulged or dribbled..it just felt tranquil.
Thursday 4th January 2007.
This morning in the blowing gale, as i walked to work the blue funk held tight on to my pockets and cast a beady eye on the darkness ahead for one moment i thought a gap showed the moon but i could have been mistaken it was still early and my mind was just dusting away the night crawlers. A mid morning sun break glimmered for a short while and gosh felt i, could the blue funk turn pink..out from this possible pinkness came a shadow bringing an unexplained prose..in the shape of Mrs OZ....a lady whom i have admired for more than twenty years,those heavy breasts pushing against the trill buttoned shirts as she pushed her bike forth to the march of green wellies i ofton wondered how big her nipples were and all sorts of dark thoughts would slide around my mind after i had seen her..i would say in all those twenty years if we had exchanged more than a hundred words we could have written a book.But to day in the middle of my blue funk and the milky warm sunshine she stopped her bike and green wellies in the middle of the lane and her voice talked,we were perhaps like two people pictured on top of a chocolate box..the conversation was no more dangerous than the price of old stamps and how one could post local on the day and say one was coming around for tea..knowing it would have been delivered...and tea would have been served,such treasures have long since gone..and of all days why today did she stop surely she could not have read my mind all these years,for glances were mere seconds as her bike swiftly raced by back in those days..but i felt i wanted to record this it was a magic moment in this ever increasing up front smash and grab time warped world,it may never happen again but i just wanted myself to know that it really happened and nothing bulged or dribbled..it just felt tranquil.
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Tuesday 23rd February 2021.
Today is the 2nd anniversary of Peter Tork from the Monkee's passing away,it was one of the few American TV shows allowed to be seen in the home…
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Valentines Day 14th February 2021.
I just want to whisper Bleecker Street..by Simon And Garfunkel...on this romantic eve....and leave it at that, before my words dribble into romantic…
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Thursday 11th February 2021.
February is perhaps my second month of the year which sinks me down into the cabbages of melancholy madness that lazy lob of i'll post a few…
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