In the morning I made a large aluminium carrier for my paintings for the submission to Trafford. It's a simple array of square tubes with bolts and wingnuts, to make it easy to sandwich one or more paintings together and provide a handle.
It's been ice cold and miserable here so purged this with today's simple poem. I've managed to write one each day this year so far (an easy statement to make on the 7th of January!) but have chosen not to publish many of them. The last three have all been about winter or snow in some way! I've spent some time in bed fully clothed to stay warm this afternoon, but now it's time to act once more. Such rest periods are good for creativity. Here's to winter siestas!
Fairytale
There once was a blackbird on a distant hill
and all around him air was still.
On a pinnacle of rock, black on blue,
his song was as clear as a winter's view.
From dawn he sang in the frozen air,
waiting for his brown mate fair.
His voice created paradise
in bleak grey razor rocks of ice.
The snowbound leaves he turned with feet
searching for some food to eat.
he piercing core of ice inside
became a diamond when he died.
