East Hills' Sands

North Norfolk

Lazy mists in drifts,

Geese in urgent formation

Span the salt marshes.

Autumn puddle

Haiku

Truth is under pressure

A leaf dances

Poised between alternatives.

Ibis

The Painted and the Painter

The Painted and the Painter

Put risk on the scales

Weighed against safety ....

This time

It 's not attractive.

Hawks and creeps surround me

Waiting for my weakness

To swoop like jackdaws

On my perceived 'jewels'.

What does he see this artist?

Unknit  my  forehead,

Remain bland, in control.

Relaxed, he will see

My status

My riches

My red gown,

Not my dilemma,

The monkey knot of possibilities.

My mask is in place

I'm still now, even smile

This man will see me not.

I will look at my outward self and see

What the world sees.

How futile my false face was

This man has glimpsed my soul.

He has shown my care,

Seen my uncertainty:

my hands betray me.

Artists should not be trusted

He has found my hidden skin

And wormed his way inside.

My contradictions are exposed.

He's begun to watch me

His eyes flickering from 'the pose'.

Seeing his portrait has disturbed,

His air has changed.

Have I been too bold?

My task is to flatter -

To paint rainbows on puddles

BUT butterflies are not worms.

I like this man

I don' t want lies to be his epitaph.

He's been gentle with me;

I'm a fly to his spider

But he's not tried

To trap me in his wishes,

He has given me freedom,

I'll give him, sincerity.

Inspired by Pontormo 's Portrait of Cosimo (Medici) the Elder

River pageant: Queen's Jubilee

Water impressions: Slovakia

Final days of Lent

Trickles of water

etch their way through the mudflats

        small, but eyes rest there.        4.4

Planing on thermals

the gannet achieves

effortless, joyous

                      freedom.                 5.4

Good Friday

The temple's veil ripped -

No barriers left between

              God and humble man.         6.4

His death like his birth

is of infinite mystery -

               faith, but not knowledge.         7.4

Old friends are rejoined

Blue and green blend to turquoise

              Colouring of joy.            8.4

Lent Challenge Week 6

Dawn touches the porch

before the huge East End Glass

                     The least shall be first.         28.3

60

60 has gained in status:

‘Now we are 6’ has been reborn

as ‘Now we are‘60’ and appeals

 to present seekers for aged

Christopher Robins. Before

Our ‘strapped for cash’ existence

60 was the age of recline

Goodbye work, welcome other things....

It’s a transitional age today:

Forgetfulness and prime in union.

To ancient Babylonians,

60 was beautiful

Perfectly divisible

By a raft of numbers;

Before fractions, this meant much.

Mathematicians, they yearned

For measures for shape:

A circle’s degrees became 360:

The joy of symmetry

6o exalted by times 6,

Arbitrary, yet chosen.

The excitement of trapping form,

Cake division simplified.

It adds mystique

                To a benchmark age.               29.3

Pushed in the scanner's mouth

The scanner growled and sang its divining

                  and made magnet pictures.               30.3

An ostrich on pro-sac

panic petrol buying

              Where have we gone wrong?         31.3

Palm Sunday

Cheers turned to jeers

then "Crucify"

in six days;

Palms to sticks

Love to stone.

After the Operation

"Don't hobble, don't limp"

Beget smoothness:

                  We take walking for granted.         2.4

Hands which blessed others

were nailed to a cross

             to bring us deeper blessing.         3.4