David in Pen and Pics

Our coldest morning this year. And Spring but 26 days and 11 hours away. (How do they know when spring starts? Stops?)
Not far from Thames a field of golden daffodils tossing their heads
In disdain
A wee bunch, picked it was.
Now watching us
As wee toss our salad in gay profusion.

• 

“Good afternoon cows.”
Bike ride. Live stock have become used to us. They munch in contentment while contempating Euripides
‘Silence is true wisdom’s best reply’.

Delayed by a book shop on the way to my Cafe stop.
In my case not good
Books, already so many.
A History of Art
In Alphabetical order
Done

Do you mind?
Borrow container from table next door
A slow, long black simmers best with a wee tither of raw sugar.
Table next door roughly attired, unkempt, and that wide, generous smile.
A cintented cafe corner.

The very beginnings of the universe
Atoms, molecules
The speed of light.
Time

And the soft thud of a fridge door

And cumin cheese, gouda too.
Shortbread, chatter and time in the sun
Lighten up, listen. Too inflexible
And you’ve lost your audience
Your most valuable listener.

Come on. Its like pouring set concrete
But, two heads thinking
On what the other is thinking
Far better than one.

For flours, seeds, I call in to Restore
Sultanas moist dates, grains and more

Singer treadle sewing machine. Clothes, repairs, memories of pins gripped between my mother’s lips.

Is the lot I want to win.