Saturday Morning Supermarket Carpark

The constant rattle of trolly wheels across the carpark.

A siren 'doppler-shifts' behind me - left to right.

Friends meet - very loudly.

Music pulsing from cars,

the occupants oblivious.

Two men finish their conversation from a distance.

A man on mobile talks to his builder - it's gonna be pricey and it's gonna late!

Snaches of conversations float by me on the breeze.

A young girl calls out to her Dad.

An electric car drifts by,

and the only sound is the tyres 'popping' on the carpark surface.

Remote control door locks; 'click' - remotely. 

Birds in trees; 'squawk' - incessantly.

Radios 'chatter' - to themselves,

reversing sensors; 'ping' - backwards,

and engines 'hum' because they don't know the words.

Busy parents scold excited children in all the excited  'busyness',

as a car horn sounds - vigorously,

followed by a car alarm - hope they're not related!

I drive off,

adding my sounds to the 'fruit salad' that is the Saturday morning supermarket carpark

Who Am I Then?

When my body grows old,

and it ceases to function.

When I become; 'unable-to'.

When; 'I can't'. 

And when; 'I loose' and,

 'can no-longer'.

   ...Who am I then?

Then; when my mind starts to disintegrate,

and my faculties are lost.

When my cognative functions faid,

and my past is eventually taken from me,

and; 'I'm locked-in' 

and; 'I'm frightened'.

Who am I then?

Who will I be if I have no past?

Who will I be if I can't live for the present,

in what body and mind I have remaining?

And what of the future?

What future?

Will I know?

Will I care?

Who am I then?

Motorway Service Station

The whole world is here and seemingly all at the same time!

Vehicles of every type,

and colour,

and size you can name,

bringing people to match!

Four excited girls,

coffees from a well known coffee chain in hand,

race back to their bright yellow mini - giggling.

Coaches full with holiday makers chasing the sun, 

hopefully!

Maybe they've just come back from some sun!

Smart looking cars and scruffy looking cars.

Old cars and new.

Three identical van's lined up in a row,

probably all heading to the same job.

Cars pulling everything you can think of. 

Caravans,

boats,

and things we can't see hidden in large trailers!

Cars with roof boxes up top.

Or kyacks, 

or surfboards,

or bikes,

or all four!!

Motor homes with bikes strapped to the back.

Motorhomes pulling little cars!

Big motorhomes,

very big motorhomes,

some as big as lorries!

Fancy sporty sounding cars,

precious classic cars.

Family cars full to the brim with everything a family could possibly need!

Pensioners putting together a picnic from the contents of the backs of their cars.

Table - check!

Chairs - check!

Food - check!

Cups and plates - check!

You name it and they have it!

Kids stuffing takeaways,

"are we there yet!?"

People drinking coffee to keep themselves awake.

Men walking round trying to stretch their legs because they've done too much driving.

A lady having just got out of her car,

looking for all the world like she's just done 12 rounds with Mike Tyson!

Old men reading map books which they have resting on the steering wheel.

The more tech-savvy setting sat-navs for the next leg of their journey. 

Vehicles come and vehicles go.

Some seem to stay a long time,

others make just a fleeting visit.

...but,

be it short,

...or be it long,

...all everyone,

and I mean everyone wants to know is...

"Where are the toilets?!"

Pembrokeshire

Its immense and seemingly enless skies.

Cloud upon cloud upon cloud upon cloud,

stretching as far as the eye can see!

Its vast open countryside echoes these seemingly endless skies.

Its natural beauty, 

its birds and its wildlife.

All that history!

Its green pastures meet the seas along its miles of craggy coastline.

Its farmers work its land,

its fishermen harvest the bounty from its turbulent seas.

Its cliffs,

its coastline is shaped by the very gales which are blown in from the deep atlantic.

Bending and shaping its trees and hedgerows,

driving waves onto its shores to shatter its rocks,

forming sand for its beaches,

its seas rush into its shores,

waves for its surfers to ride,

wind for the sails of its yachts to gather,

taking them around and away from its shores.

Vast.

Almost deserted. 

Ancient and stunningly beautiful!

...Pembrokeshire. 

(Haiku)

Ah! But which came first? 

Agitated owner, or 

agitated dog?

Writing This Poem

Sat in the pews of the abbey dedicated to St Peter and St Paul in Shrewsbury,  

facing the alter,

head bowed,

looking for all the world like I'm in deep contemplation,

in reverence to the majesty of the venue I find myself in,

contemplating my sins perhaps,

(not that I have any of course),

in front of he who was said to have made it all,

...only,

I'm not,

I'm on my phone,

Writing this poem!