My tea is cold
It’s time for coffee
With buttered toast
I watch the light
Arrive on the green
Blue skies are here
The move is to recording
In a few minutes
My workplace will be ready
Sunlight reflects
From my neighbours wall
Which is also my wall
Most days I would try to write a poem; it is a practice, as I suppose is meditation, or smiling, or watching the world go by
My tea is cold
It’s time for coffee
With buttered toast
I watch the light
Arrive on the green
Blue skies are here
The move is to recording
In a few minutes
My workplace will be ready
Sunlight reflects
From my neighbours wall
Which is also my wall
To the University
Of the Algarve
Then onwards
To Sul
A collaboration
Making real
The dreams
Forging pathways
With delight
In the treading
To the prospect
Of living cheaply
In Europe
West or East
Before returning
To the growing venture
In Grimsby
Where Seth Lakeman
Is playing soon
More than
Yet also
Further away than
That is farther
Than as you appear
Nearer than
Obscure
Yet clearer than
For sure more sincere
Than you might fear
Tapping, intermittently
By the workmen
With the wires
I don’t mind
No, honestly
For it becomes
A source of inspiration
Reminds me of my mum
On the phone for hours
To her best friend Margaret
Over sixty years ago
Also of my decision
Not to have a telephone
In my flat at Anchor Court
Instead I wrote letters
And today
Out in my cold, cold shed
Some of the replies are safely boxed up
I’m not even CEO
In my own home
And I live alone
Why is that do I hear you ask
Well Twitter for one
Someone liking a post of mine
From a week last Thursday
And those guys and girls
On Email, who either promise
To get my website to number one
Or offer me A Rainy Night In Georgia
If you catch my drift, which you might
If you are your own
Chief Executive Officer