Jigsaw

Nine hundred and ninety nine pieces is not a complete 'one thousand piece' jigsaw.

Every piece is important.

Every piece plays a part,

so we mustn't loose anymore pieces

Every life is important in this jigsaw that we call our world.

We must make sure we don't loose anymore jigsaw pieces down the back of the worlds sofa because...

Because,

with every individual piece which is lost,

the 'whole' is further diminished,

to a point where it simply,

 ...can no longer be

...whole.

(Haiku)

Skin. Once snug like a

new suit, now just a baggy

worn-out pair of jeans

(Haiku)

A life of drink and

cigarettes will be a 

short one. Rest in peace.

A Lovely Day

The dawn chorus is delayed. 

An eerie calm settles all around.

Car headlights cut through the fog.

A Virginia Creeper cascades down a fence,

its autumn red stands proud in the gloom.

Misty spiders-webs cover wire fences.

Spiders in residence await a meal.

The recently trimmed hedgerow glistens,

damp,

covered in tiny droplets.

The rising sun colours the whole of the eastern sky a pale orange,

but fails to break through.

The avenues between the apple trees are just rows of fog stretching into the distance.

Sheep in a field drift in and out of view,

and a train passes,

unseen.

I think it's going to be a lovely day!

(untitled)

Those early risers. 

The bleary eyed.

Those who really shouldn't be up at this time of day,

but who,

for some reason: are!

The shift workers.

The impulse buyers.

Those who have long journeys to take.

The habitual purchasers,

they always have one! 

Those who can't function without one.

Those for whom the day really doesn't start until there's one 'down the hatch'. 

Those who are simply addicted,

their cars automatically pull into a garage which sells them.

They can't help it!

They just can't help themselves...

...they all grew to rue that day,

that fateful; fateful day...

 the day the 'Costa' machine stopped working!

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