There is a tree
I wish to find
Which I last climbed
In Nineteen-Sixty-Three
The end of the fool
I passed the Eleven-plus
Travelled by Baddeley’s bus
To Penistone Grammar School
It was a time of fear
Innocence was raised
Nightmares invaded
Eyes and mind once so clear
Today is to be a walk
I have put on my socks which will shortly
Be followed by my sturdy walking boots
The sun streams
Directly through
The East-facing windows
Actually it is later than I thought
Also sun and windows face more South than East
Nevertheless today is to be a day to walk
In lieu of Kendal mint cake
Of which we are without
I have had seeded bread with strawberry jam
I have received a book of walks
You know the sort you get for Christmas
It arrived just in time for the new years resolutions
We fixed the mantelpiece clock yesterday
Soon the fifteen minute chime will chime
And ever so soon it will chime again
The sun streams
Directly upon me
Sat in my soft yellow jumper
Today we will have a walk
You may detect a hint of hesitation
But then it is a Sunday
Yes it is a Sunday
And it is still a good few minutes before
Eleven o’clock in the morning
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Wind chime
With the name of Woodstock
A sliced up revolution, music of the spheres
Ping pong
On strung bound eco-plated pipes in the garden
Where the sun silhouettes the swaying laburnum
Where the bare blossom tree stands in defiance
Of the dovecot detail on the distant rooftop
Which sits proud and strong, cooing on the skyline
On the mantel piece
The ticking clock ticks
Tick tock, tick tock, ad so, ad so, ad so infinitum
Framed photographs and posters
A warm fire grate
A room rather full of mementos
This is the kind of space
The kind of peaceful restful place
Where one's cup of tea could so easily go cold
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Walk
Along by the Silver Birch
Re-live the memory of a your boy's birthday
…underneath the arches
down paradise way
Walk
Towards the dome of Wren
Hear the sounds of bow with your girl’s bells
…underneath the arches
down paradise way
Walk
Inside the Smithfield Market
Smell the carcass of your old man’s youth
…underneath the arches
down paradise way
Walk
About Covent Garden
See the pretence pretend for you her joy
…underneath the arches
down paradise way
Walk
On into Leicester Square
Ride the fairground roundabout as revellers cry out
…underneath the arches
down paradise way
Walk
Beyond Old London Town
Climb on time that time forgot as we sing together
…underneath the arches
down paradise way
…underneath the arches
down paradise way
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All of this in the space of one table top
One table top by just less than one table top:
Playing cards
Newspaper
A bottle of orange juice
Jamie Oliver’s Christmas video
A scarf
An handbag
And a box of half eaten lime jellies
There by the mobile phone
Is the TV controller
All of this and more in the space of one metre
One metre by just less than one metre, pray go on:
The old sweet and present wrappers
A CD case (Music by Tim Hardin)
Two copies of the same book of poems
(Daljit Nagra, Look We Have Coming to Dover!)
A cup to make your own filtaire of coffee
A completely empty box
Once for Dairy Milk chocolates
A bottle opener
Also a packet of propranolol tablets…
All of this in the space of one ordinary day
One ordinary day by just less than one ordinary day
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