Desert dessert

An odd meal at an empty diner, thousands of miles and many years from it’s original home.
On a motorway in England, an American fifties diner resides. We enter at lunch time to a vacuous space. We are seated to peruse the menu. I order a hot dog with onions, no mustard, I don’t like mustard, also a butterscotch milkshake. My partner orders a chicken burger, holding the bun, and a coffee. In a short while the drinks arrive, then my partner’s bare chicken burger. Shortly after a hot dog arrives, covered in mustard, with no onions. I am not one to complain, but have to say “I ordered the one with onions”. The waiter replies “Oh sorry”, and takes it back, in a while he returns and asks “We can change your order in five minutes, or you can have free onion rings”….. “I’ll change my order please” I reply, I did not avoid onion rings because I couldn’t afford them. My partner slows to allow the delicate preparation required to present a hotdog. In a while the hotdog arrives, covered in a sarcastic amount of onions in no condition to pick up and eat, the bread is pretty stale, but I’m hungry, so I eat a hot dog with a knife and fork for the first time in my life. We are resilient, so wait to be asked if we would like desert, ironically the staff dessert us, they are nowhere to be seen. Eventually they return to give us the menus and we pick our deserts. I choose blueberry cheesecake and a coffee, my partner orders apple pie and ice cream with a coffee top up. A different waiter arrives, he ceremoniously places two long spoons on the table, adding to the already odd experience. The apple pie arrives lonely on the plate, no ice cream in sight, “It does not come with ice cream” says the waiter, contrary to the menu. It is a large slice so this is let off, though now we find the pie is not heated throughout, as the microwave has not nuked it thoroughly. The cheesecake has a side of a small pot of blueberries, rather than including them in the cheesecake. It only takes a few little odd things to throw you. While paying, the waiter engages us in small talk of motorway crashes, just to complete the weird experience. I wonder why this place is deserted?


All outside my head seems like an alien place to me right now, the connections so rarely occurring. Other’s ways I cannot identify with. The group of track suited men loudly self promoting, are not of this earth to me. They don’t have my ways, not my clothes, not my view. I feel the passing cat is more identifiable to me, more like me, than those men. I find myself repelled by their ugly ostentatiousness, their confident idiocy, their crass manner. Take them away from this otherwise peaceful place.


I told them he was an asshole.
They said, “Yeah, but he’s a rich asshole”.
And right there the gulf between us was revealed.
The ones who respect the earned and received money,
and the ones who find cash completely irrelevant.
Respecting cash above the soul,
the foolish mind warped.
What are we to do with them?


Cycling in the flat Holland countryside, verses the hilly Dorset countryside. The level ground means you never have the hard slog of peddling up hill. But you never have the fun of whizzing down one either. Even Keel, verses manic depression



Magpies are back in the garden
One for happiness, two for joy, three for glee..
We take for granted how beautiful they are
Just because they are near and plentiful
If their iridescent feathers were far away
We would travel to admire them
Flashes of black, white and blue
Of diamond tail as they alight
I feel blessed that they are here.


Is flight joy or necessity?
The falconer at the zoo informed us
That their birds only fly to hunt,
If they did not need to fly, they wouldn’t.
So the bait is twirled to exercise the bird.
But what of the flying prey?
They need to confuse the predator in large flocks.
To send many eyes to the sky, in search of a meal.
But sometimes, I see pure joy in a pigeons flight,
Soaring and tumbling around just for the hell of it.


To swap my arms for wings.
No writing, no waving, no weaving.
No climbing, no throwing, no hugging.
No piano, no caressing.
But just to fly….
It would be a tough choice to make.


The geese fly gracefully high overhead in a V formation,
how much more elegant they would seem,
if it wasn’t for all the honking.


A hummingbird flaps its wings fifty times a second
At least that is what the top scientists reckoned
I lost count a twenty two until he no longer lingered
Good job he did as I had cramp in all my fingers.


I spy a little white egret elegantly fishing in an English river,
Lending a touch of asian splendour on an otherwise drab day.


The cut-throat looms as ominously as the word
yet it responds to great sensitivity
the artist cleaves the growth from his face
with no fear of spilling one drop.


A walk in the woods, to refresh.
The trees are invisibly breathing in all the harmful elements and breathing out the goodness. Though I cannot see, I can feel the vitality they are giving me.
Thank you trees, you are much appreciated


Important chapters are closing, the next one looks bleak,
Though we are writing too, so please write beautifully.


Rest in music’s tranquil hammock,
Escape the now and the present,
Reside in gently swinging melody


One more log on the fire
one more bundle of twigs
idly the flames lick my feet
what a lovely view



Hanging on with all her might
‘Just a little more, just a little more
to see new will give me strength’.
Winter’s cruelty waits.


Life is a beautiful ribbon
wafting across your fingers
do not try to grip one piece
for it would burn and blister


Life as a golf swing.
The history the back swing,
the follow through the preparation.
Without either, you won’t be hitting now very hard.


How confusing for her to feel the itch of creation on her back.
The churning ache of digging the good from every crack.
Is her patience never ending for her overdue payback?
We may not have time to attain the wisdom that we lack.


In this time when the silky veil is at its thinnest
We see the been and the went and wave to them
Thank you, we wouldn’t be here without you.


Have some vigor, keep the crow from your shoulder
Wear a smile, step with a spring though you’re older
Each day we have, is one blessing more
Even the pain, proof of life at our core.