When he’s nostalgic, it’s pale blue like seaside cottages. Circling seagulls in morning harbours, old-fashioned cream cakes, the damp wood of rickety beach-huts.
Ease is liquid green, like late summer afternoons. The lazy buzz of insects in settled heat, the sweet anticipation of the evening ahead.
Anxious is the colour of commuters in a cold rush of urgency. It’s frantic, the sound of doors closing on a crowded train, the smells and tastes and harsh fabrics of commerce.
Barry Lee Thompson 
Fun to ride your wave! Hang on!
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Hanging on tight. Fun to have you here, D.
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I love this. Very visual. Great work Mr Thompson xx
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Thanks for reading, Laurie x
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A beautiful poem Barry – wonderful visual images
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Thanks, Helen.
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