Tendere

I dearly love this hulking, hump-backed thing hovering on my lawn. An exotic beetle- This time capsule, poised taut and proud in Summer rain. Walls tight as a drum skin bead away rain as I gaze at my childhood colour. That orange- so bright outside but within? Lurid. Flaming. Bathing everything in a warm glow. … More Tendere

What did you mean?

When I found you, you were ragged. So dusty. Sleeveless in the cold of your neglect. Though metal-rimmed. Built to last. Bumping through the decades, from storage to storage.   But what did you mean? You were and are a demo. So: Did you spark a tryst? Give words to some unspoken love? Why didn’t … More What did you mean?

Fresh

  Everywhere a view.  Everywhere. Even the benches are special: all dragon tails and tongues. The ground is a sleeping dragon. Sweeping curves cupping an impossible blue, and all uphill though never a struggle. A place fit for all weathers. Arctic in March, Grecian in Autumn. An enchanted land. Everlasting beautiful.   Keen memories burn … More Fresh

Oh Dear Me

I look at me three decades ago. Or you, rather. I’m unrecognisable now. Every cell thrice renewed. I wish I could take your head between my hands, Look in to your eyes and say ‘Your mind is wired strangely. Talk to people about it, in all its frenzied energy’. I would say ‘Swim every day. … More Oh Dear Me

Fire

A friend has asked me to write about Fire. As a subject, I immediately think of it as a double-edged sword. Beautiful and seductive if tamed, though evil and repulsive if left to its own devices. Heavenly or Satanic. Tantalising. I have always felt an affinity with the fellow who asked me to write this, … More Fire

Picture Perfect

What better picture is there in the world? A masterpiece of special places Resonant with happy memories. Hard to believe that so much could be framed So completely, in both my mind’s eye and my loving gaze.   © Tom Tide 2016    

Do you remember?

Memories are an odd concept. They are unpredictable, and in my brain can present as solid, liquid or gas. My memories are classified by these three states. Some are carved- hewn out of fact and indelible. Others are more fluid-I can bathe in them, but never grasp them. Some, the taunting ones, are a whisper … More Do you remember?