There's poetry in pottery.
The letters there hangout
If we remove the poetry
T comes pouring out.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Followers
Blog Archive
-
▼
2020
(285)
-
▼
April
(25)
- FRIDGE GARDEN
- TRAVEL BOOKS
- HELP ME, DEBBIE REYNOLDS, YOU'RE MY ONLY HOPE
- THE PACE OF LIFE
- BLOSSOM
- DAWN IN A SHOETOWN GARDEN
- TICK...TOCK
- PICK TO POT
- THE JITTERBUG
- Pottery Poetry
- SLEEPING DOGS
- THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS
- CHERRY BLOSSOM HAIKU
- FAME
- WOKE. LATE.
- BEAN-THINKING ABOUT ISOLATION
- HOME-SCHOOLING EXAMS
- HALF MEASURES
- LUCKY HOLLY
- ODE TO A PITIFUL AND MOULDY BLOOD ORANGE
- TONGUE-TWISTING TEA
- MATCH OF THE RAYS
- TRAVELLING LIGHT
- RECYCLE
- OFFERING THE LIGHT
-
▼
April
(25)
About Me
- Kidcobbler
- Spent nine months dreaming on my back. Opened up new horizons, if only horizontal. Woke up disabled, with a Blue Badge and bed hair. Walk with a limp and a stick. Cue the double entendré and the stick. Saving money on shoes. Spending it on thoughts. Overdrawn at the creative bank. Loan facility disabled. The irony! Stronger through weakness. Weaker through slogans. New journeys to be taken. Pop along. I'm off my back. I'm back.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment