poetry diary

Incense-scented air;
trembling drums charm the arms of
five belly dancers.

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Crescendo of bells.
The cafe door opens.
Two Morris dancers.

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It’s been the annual folk festival in Warwick this weekend. There were many more belly dancers and (especially) Morris dancers, but these seven were most memorable.

Warm summer evening;
music, company, pleasure –
until that last glass.

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I went to a wonderful summer evening concert on a perfect July evening at Warwick Castle with friends a few weeks ago, but allowed my wine glass to be filled one time too many……(It’s only the second time in my life I’ve gone a little too far, and this time it was at least semi-accidental).