Sandwiches
With cheddar, cucumber and rocket
We sat outside of what is to become
Our creative and meditative salon
A hundred years of dust on our faces
One more morning's, hard and dirty
Labouring work in there behind us
Many days of future joy ahead
How will we hang the pictures
How will we lay the chairs
How will we choose the music
The flags are to be pressure cleaned
A border of Cotswolds cobbles
To act as our French drain
Richard is due to return
To complete the glazing's
Red cedar cladding
In the chiaroscuro
Glasses of pink champagne
Printed invitations and Bon homie
A hundred years
Of civilisation in our hearts
On the day we ate spelt bread
