As Nick Lowe’s song Indian Queens began
I had an instant flashback
To a vacation in Cornwall
With my eldest son
I thought about the meditation garden
Where I bought a small Acer tree
Which now stands out front
And is just coming into leaf
Maybe I should have thought
About my first holiday in Newquay
When four of us stayed in a garden shed
On our way to The Sailors Arms
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
