Caught up in cobwebs;
Cement blocks laying as welcome mats
Open concept frames of dark filtered air,
Straw bales used up as farm data;
Leftover fibres now left hanging and useless.
Scorched into a brand new time period,
Ready for staging.
As I took my photo,
I wondered if I happened to have come at chore time.
There are moments where our eyes keep us far from the truth.
We see and are blinded,
Our mind already closed to light.
Feelings erupt as we see fit.
Somebody shares their moment of heartfelt truth.
Unknown to them,
They peel away self in our vision
And reward us with new eyesight.
Old Jamaica Road
Meeting for the first time
A small part of larger life
Lived with less than I became used to
The spice trade
River by the Docklands
Loading and unloading
Cinnamon and Peppers
The wood and the stone
Heated from sun
Told me their tales
While I walked by the Thames
Write something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview.