Tis but the hour of the song Famous Blue Raincoat a song that spell binds me into where has time vanished in the bucket of life that opening line simple, but gosh so many mornings down the years has fostered the song inside my head, more so as the autumn signs appear in the hedgerows and that bite as the chill from the air slips across the face bringing that longing for sun kissed beaches people whom profess to love winter bring thoughts of madness to my old soul, quite madder than i.
...Somehow sleep evades me, on the beginning of the new day, at this hour rubber tyres on tarmac outside the window of the room are rare, the only sound keeping me company are my own thoughts and the comfort of the ticking clocks there must be six within these walls of this room now all gathered with memories so dense i cannot bare to part with them. I am on leave soon and as i gaze around the room half of me thinks time is it not to have a sort out, the other half says bugger off there are more dust bunnies than any where else on the planet keeping me company. I do think time indeed to blow kisses of good bye at at least to some of them.
Thankfully too i am not climbing into the work saddle of my tiny red van the traffic this past week in the Manchester basin has been a scary monster if i had seen Godzilla driving past i would not have been shocked.
This is but a small glimpse tis where i sit at least some part of the day to gather thoughts or simply drift into peace after a hectic day when the world seems to crash around ones ears. Old bear mats, sea shells, from various beaches i have walked barefeet across.
Time i think to start the day there is a foodie weekend in my local town of Stockport Cheshire in an effort to combat the rot a good few towns up and down the land are sinking into due i expect to internet shopping adding to the stronghold large supermarkets hold across the land scape, take out the charity shops,nail parlours and kabab houses on every street corner and such, the town sadly would be one of those western movie ghost towns big John Wayne riding down the main street on horse back would not be a surprise.
Have a good weekend all whom pass this way love and peace...x
...Somehow sleep evades me, on the beginning of the new day, at this hour rubber tyres on tarmac outside the window of the room are rare, the only sound keeping me company are my own thoughts and the comfort of the ticking clocks there must be six within these walls of this room now all gathered with memories so dense i cannot bare to part with them. I am on leave soon and as i gaze around the room half of me thinks time is it not to have a sort out, the other half says bugger off there are more dust bunnies than any where else on the planet keeping me company. I do think time indeed to blow kisses of good bye at at least to some of them.
Thankfully too i am not climbing into the work saddle of my tiny red van the traffic this past week in the Manchester basin has been a scary monster if i had seen Godzilla driving past i would not have been shocked.
This is but a small glimpse tis where i sit at least some part of the day to gather thoughts or simply drift into peace after a hectic day when the world seems to crash around ones ears. Old bear mats, sea shells, from various beaches i have walked barefeet across.
Time i think to start the day there is a foodie weekend in my local town of Stockport Cheshire in an effort to combat the rot a good few towns up and down the land are sinking into due i expect to internet shopping adding to the stronghold large supermarkets hold across the land scape, take out the charity shops,nail parlours and kabab houses on every street corner and such, the town sadly would be one of those western movie ghost towns big John Wayne riding down the main street on horse back would not be a surprise.
Have a good weekend all whom pass this way love and peace...x
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