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Saturday, 10 September 2022

Mucknell Abbey

 Will the body stand the pain

The blue sky is clouding over

Their words are not my words

Neither can I read their music


But I can close my eyes

I can feel the breeze

Wafting through my fine mop of hair

And I can feel for those not with me


That is my discipline

To think to write a letter

Yet not a letter for posterity

Instead a letter to hold on to love



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Friday, 9 September 2022

After Not Being Promoted

 And of course

Last night’s disappointment at football

Will take quite a while

To wear off


It’s probably the end

Of that team as we’ve known it

Already I have learnt

They were the second oldest team in the league


There is a sadness

And a dullness

Also an apprehension

Instead of an excitement


This isn’t how the first day

Ought to be

Yet doubts always surface

At the beginning of an adventure


And so the emptiness

The loneliness of leaving you behind

Brings a hollowness

To the car's interior



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Thursday, 8 September 2022

Flatland Slopes

I don’t belong here

What with my dodgy hips

And all these sloping pavements

Which also annoy the hell

Out of my nervous thighs


Someone once said

That Lincolnshire was flat

Well not on the wolds it’s not

All over the place there are tricks

To trip up the troubled walker 



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Wednesday, 7 September 2022

Want. Want. Want.

To rearrange

Or reassemble

Isn’t quite the same

As starting over

You know

When you buy something new

Which in the shop

Appeared to be the very thing

To set you up


Instead

To make do and mend

Even to mend

That which is not yet broken

As a sort of way

Of making the point

That to have something new is your desire

For almost all

But not all

Situations



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Tuesday, 6 September 2022

The Old Stables

Tidying is begun

Two chairs and a desk

Offered to Freely Given


Two chairs (IKEA)

Brought from the house

To begin a new life


Cobwebs and dust

Removed

From walls and ceilings


Diamonds and Rust

Played

On the iPod stereo


The concrete floor

Once more is visible

As is the easel and stepladder


How difficult change is

Simply to rearrange

Is one heck of a toil


How hard

To wash away those past years

To open afresh for new memories 


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