Three Scribblings Returning Home from Holiday in Wales

 
Hosting my Ghost  
Perhaps I’m no more than an entertaining ghost  
who, alpaca-like, spits at those who cross the line  
then fades through walls in a stately manner  
to live a prisoned life, in non-sense time.  
 
Sailing  
Sometimes I feel I’m sailing into a mirror  
where two of me foreshorten into a flat line  
each emerging miraculously on the other side -  
“As within, so without” sings my spirit, “step in time”.  
 
Leaking Heat  
I’ve experienced a six-decade meltdown  
with its lingering, longing, leaking heat  
which fires poetically onto the page …  
and many are blanks - but some are neat.