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Wednesday, 5 September 2012

Jake

This is the morning
All of a muddle
All getting ready
To step into puddles
And catch the gravy trains

Down there in London
On the bus
On the tube
Rides in tunnels going nowhere &
Trains turning back home again

This is just a little while later
The garden gate swings open
Scented roses loud and proud
Stand out without of shrouds
In the full view of the meadow

Back here in Lincoln
In the cathedral, feet without shoes
Verses whispered
Songs unsung
Undone by rhythms and blues

This is the coffee time
Scones and jam and cake
Words fall over words stand by
Jake please
Rake those fake leaves away


A Poem from He waits for the Season - Her reason is clear available for Kindle from Amazon