Scrap dealer's passing

Lucrative job in a throwaway society.
Obviously.
Three scrap dealers each Saturday
are passing the village at walking pace.
One of them twice a week.
The petrol price? Peanuts. Obviously.

Wild beauty

Friday is Skyday

Crossing the road

... or
dancing in the rain.

Brothers in Arms

These mist covered mountains
Are a home now for me
But my home is the lowlands
And always will be

Some day you'll return to
Your valleys and your farms
And you'll no longer burn
To be brothers in arm

Through these fields of destruction
Baptism of fire
I've watched all your suffering
As the battles raged higher

And though they did hurt me so bad
In the fear and alarm
You did not desert me
My brothers in arms

There's so many different worlds
So many different suns
And we have just one world
But we live in different ones

Now the sun's gone to hell
And the moon's riding high
Let me bid you farewell
Every man has to die

But it's written in the starlight
And every line on your palm
We're fools to make war
On our brothers in arms

Monochrome Monday

No dog to wag.

Satisfied curiosity

The first new potatoes tasted well today,
and so did the beans.

Praised be the button

Tonight, watching the closing ceremony of the London 2012 Games and after two hours consulting my watch I had to learn that only ten minutes had passed.

Luckily our TV has a button to press.

Friday is Skyday

2

Natural Arts

Five eggs, ten yolks.

Homage to Sir Chris Hoy

As I did not yet have the pleasure to portrait Sir Chris Hoy
this is my way of bowing not only to a 'Flying Scotsman'
but to a great sportsman.

Bugman II

A species likely to survive
the war that will not be mentioned
in history books of those primates
calling themselves humans
[as there will not be written any, anymore].

Monochrome Monday

Bugman