Sunday morning showers

Sunday morning showers

Will the cricket match resume

Vases of flamboyant flowers

The bunting flaps in tune

History is as history is

So another one departs us

We fawn and kneel to kiss

In life of life we trust

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The rain is falling

The rain is falling

It has fallen through the night

Apparently

We cannot do anything about it

Except of course

To sit in the drawing room and write

Or read about the Italian

Who built this house

Before it became a hotel

The single chandelier

Casts its light

Down the pale green walls

A reminder of the olive groves of Sicily

And the romance which brought him here

To the Isles of Scilly

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Looking

Looking

Out to sea

From your

Private place

Between two houses

Behind a street lamp

And beneath

A satellite dish

Do they work anymore

Do wedding guests

Still dance

To Dancing Queen

On a Saturday afternoon

At the beginning

Of the second week

Of September…

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You are

You are

Lovely

If

Just a little bit

Disorganised

Even we could say

Anxious

When working

Against the clock

But hey ho

We have found a bar

And you have

Volunteered

To get the drinks

Although the tab

Is likely

To be in joint names

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Up

Up

And down

Cutting

Quite a dash

On

And on

Pitching

And ploughing

Here

Then, sitting

Right now

Almost on the beach

For our Myrtle

1944-2021

Silently we sat by the sea swell

Knowing the pleasure

Of the howling wind

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