A rebel without a clue.

Wednesday 22nd January. Oh to smell the sweet perfume of a rockrose in the mountains of the Algarve, high about the Hubbub of the resorts and human concern. I woke up on Tuesday morning ashamed for drinking into a stupor and it stops... My blood pressure is high. The penny has dropped - I have stage 2 high blood pressure (145/100 this morning). I don't want to die young - which 53 surely is in the 21st century? And I want to leave one nice In Memoriam: this was my life's mission and I can't fail? Can I? Oh the pity. This morning it's 140/100. It seems I've stage 2 high blood pressure. And I thought different and approached Leeds differently yesterday. And today I am going to eat those things which are supposed to reduce the rate. Apart from my alcohol intake, and the bad diet habit I usually stumble upon there, I am pretty healthy for my age; excluding the foot injury and the eyes aging badly... Yesterday I enjoyed a while on the allotment turning over the soil, add...

Are we joined, you and I? When I sit squished up, alongside thee, It seems we are: Dog and boy Man and mutt. A symbiosis between homo and canid, A combination of smells, swells and warmth, which is rarely malignant. What a lucky man I've been, knowing  She's going to rest assured and easy, These last many years, as we both Age gracefully and greying towards separation; where the winds blow us  Disparate, sometimes warm and often Cold, back to the single I; alas! No more the we. She of a gray face, And I an ashen shadow, But always brighter  Than a swarm of photons, Alighting a while, Out of their cosmic array...