Midpoint

I drove
Two and a half hours
To collect you
Your mother drove
About the same

The trees are still
The leaves are still

We stood together
On the beach
Throwing pebbles
Into the sea
As darkness fell

The mist is hanging
Surrounded by the dew

Your mother drove
Two and a half hours
To collect you
I drove
About the same

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John Lewis CC

I've been here before
Yet I don't recall
The West Country accent
Being quite so strong

Fifteen pound a year
For the allotment
All in beds
Like on tele

You go in there at night?
For a drink an all that
Why didn't you go back
To the same one as last year

Do you want a drop more jam?
Use it up Kelly
You're not going up this year?
Beautiful day innit

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Speedway Tracks And Ramblers

The cows look at me
As if to say: that's unusual

They stare for quite a long time
Before returning to the chewing of the cud
Before returning to the grazing of the grass

For now I am normal
A firm part of the establishment
It is I who now look out
For the irregular, for the newcomers

I move up the road a piece
Find a new place to park my car

Between the old gate posts
There is a broken gate
Untidily repaired;  supported

By a sheet of corrugated tin
And a strip of reinforcement mesh
As used to give ready mixed concrete
Strength and guidance

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Up Top

I pass eight cars from Hamburg
Or Munich, or Berlin
That's my little joke, yes
I know my jokes are wearing thin

I dreamt of being made redundant
Though I know those hopes are slim
I am at once, the one last incumbent
I wear it, with the thinnest of grins

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Room

It feels like a good space
I felt that all along
I built it mostly at my own pace
Some things went surprisingly right
Some things went mysteriously wrong

A soft spot for love of creativity
So pictures on the walls
A search for pureness of divinity
A good place
To face up, and gently bathe the soul

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