Shellfish for the supper
Nature walks and evening poets
Soup, with rolls strong on garlic
Old woodlands of nature's love
Absent in the ever after
After the split, the split
Mackerel, heavily peppered
Fresh waters, silted waters
Soil from high on the Pennines
One range, your range
Fish & chips, down in the valley
Talk no more of late laments
Those fragments cold as ice
Sliced into the wild mirrors
Oysters, doused with sea salt
Secluded in exclusive apartments
Turn up the stereo
Fine tune the meditation
Lemon rice, sprinkled with jasmine
I say goodbye, I say goodbye so often
In the warm, mid-June afternoon
Writing, under canvas in the forest
Sipping champagne, savouring the caviar
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