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Sunday, 22 March 2020

Launch

I don’t approach my own unease with any certainty, more I let the weight of the occasion set me towards a standstill or a standoff.

Grey sky
Lively swallow
Or swift
Grey sky
Calm fellow
With this gift

One happy insect
Among perhaps a billion
Takes off from my page
Into the great grey yonder

Excepting
That the sun breaks through
Summer returns
Yet hardly with a vengeance
Instead we have twenty-one degrees
And no sign of the blue sky

My standstill, or my standoff, or my simply doing nothing comes at me with ease, the weight of this occasion you see is so so easily borne.



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Saturday, 21 March 2020

Those Who Have

This is, a mother and daughter
Or a sister and sister
Or a friend and friend
Or a partner and partner occasion

This is middle-class England
Though with quite a few
Who attempt to carry off the style
Without the ways and means

Strawberries for elevenses
Champagne and caviar for lunch
Be caught by the mobile TV cameras
In our silk and linen low-cut frocks

Too busy for relaxation
Too relaxed for work
They pull the pull-along baskets
Taking their flowers home

Yes it is pretentious
The North’s version of the South
Yes it is contemptuous
When it is still Love on the Dole



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Friday, 20 March 2020

Night And Day

Swans coast on the water
In front of the Imperial War Museum
We are in the heart of Media City
But it is raining
And the forecast is for heavier rain

She studied to be an actress
In our home county as it happens
But, due to the lack of opportunity
She returned home after graduation
Now she serves pre-theatre dinners

Today we are at Tatton Park
For the RHS Flower Show
Already I have an idea
For a strip of water
In front of our neighbour’s wall

The lady sat opposite
Was thinking in her head
Or at least
That is exactly what she said
As she sipped another Pimms


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Thursday, 19 March 2020

Step In Now Why Don’t You

I am too often misunderstood
Also way too often
I do not understand myself

Why don’t I know
Where my keys are
Or my glasses, or my watch

Though I agree that
This is more about being misplaced
As opposed to being misunderstood

Yet today
As I was trying to explain
The authenticity of the writer’s voice

A snipe was made
That only I could interpret
After my claim that the monk had said so

In that instance then
Not only misunderstood
But also cut short

Before my explanation
Was allowed to run its course
For full understanding to be reached

Once again I was found to be
Halfway to nowhere, neither
Really clear, nor thoroughly confused


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Wednesday, 18 March 2020

Sated Or Saturated

If it is over so quickly
If the action
Is only for a few moments
Why does the resonance
Last for the whole of time

And if the monastic bell
Is the metaphor
For a peak experience
Followed by withering decay
Should we really rush to prayer

Or are we safer
To stand tall
To walk with dignity and purpose
Across the stone quadrangle
Laid down hundreds of years ago

Yet let us not demean the instant
In favour of the long time
Rather let us be thankful
For the gratification
In whatever is its measure of time



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