This most odd of places, to which I retreat. Shuffle off teacher robes, and return to myself. This quiet, sunlit cove of my lifes and loves. Plastered over the walls, as if by retreating floods. Yey no. Not plastered. Placed, with loving care for eyes to drink upon and be refreshed, Whatever challenges the chipping away … More Work Station- a teacher’s lifeline.
All it took was early Sunday light spilling across the onyx- hemmed pearly squares; fresh bright glaring light picking out the delicate mosaics between them. My son had set up the board within pulsing sunlight from the window, with all the fierce focus and sensuality of the young and keen. Harnessing the beauty of the … More Pearlescent
My morning coffee teases me with glimpses of all the things I could write about today but cannot yet see they swirl and vanish all too fast in steam of consciousness way before I can capture them yet some meagre impressions remain like sunspots- here’s to inspiration! © Tom Tide 2016
A crisp and cold morning. Cloudbanks looming like a wave. Rolling fields beckon. Copyright Tom Tide 2017
Even here, deep in suburbia, It is wild tonight. Everything gilded in Silver. Sharp silhouettes softly shadowed yet lights fan out, sharp as a blade. Slipping out, no sound carries. I feel in the deep Sea or darkest space. The chill calms me. Soothes my teeming mind. Yet also excites it, for even though I … More Sylvan
A view across the river to the glowing, affluent side. © Tom Tide 2016
Bathwick. Bath. 1927. Valeria had watched the man for over a week now, and always in the early morning. From her solitary table on the balcony terrace she would first hear the gentle slap and pull of his oars working the river, then see him glide slowly in to view. Straining on the oars and … More Take Me
Cerulean. Aquamarine. Cobalt. Sage. Sorrel. All undulating in shimmering bars. Matt and impenetrable in cloud, yet translucent and brilliant when brought to life by light. A spectrum of water colours swirling langorously and loyally around an achingly beautiful enclave. Surrounded almost entirely by tides, that have sulpted the deeply loved land as they do driftwood, all … More Seas Of St Ives
No, I shall not look your way, although I might. Not to turn and seek your eyes is a great feat; It is enough to share in this bright bulb light, That bathes us, separated by just one seat. Yes, I say bathe even though this light is fake, For we share a light … More What are you writing?
Who is that? Startled by an unfamiliar recognition, now jolted back from listlessness. All presently begrimed in hazy reflection. Shadows seeping in to corners. This moment, this raw moment reproduced faithfully. Faithfully- in all its grubby hand-flinching nervousness. Backlit gracefully by warm brightness That welcomes you home To yourself. © Tom Tide 2016 … More The Revenant