Sea Wardrobe

Every weave and stitch a pigment. All hues, above and within water. Some colours warm- lapping Others chilled and dark. Even hints of the pallete of a Summer sky. Rippling like waves, Conducted by the tide of my hands, as I search for something to quench, no drench my heat.   © Tom Tide 2017

Solstice

Voices carry through the night. Amplified by still-warm walls. Ironic: humans outside and cats in. Every window door vent thrown wide, As the moths have a jamboree. No breeze to ruffle my book leaves tonight, only the tap of winged things, scampering over mottled ink. All dry, everything dry, save my sweat. Tonight, England has … More Solstice