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Tuesday 20 June 2017

Joy Division

Months ago
Or even thirty years
Something to do with control
In the fields of walking

Walking
By the reservoir
Walking
Along the country lane

Walking
With my daughter in a push-chair
Walking
With just a babe-in-arms

Today
By the leat
Or stream
Or brook

With sunlight
In place of control
And quiet enough
To hear the ticking clock

Quiet enough
To think
That in a while I could settle
To think about settling



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Monday 19 June 2017

Easter Monday

I tried to read my friend Paul's poetry pamphlet
But to be honest
I am not really in the mood right now
Anyway my calves ache
And I am unable to concentrate for long
Probably too much champagne at Ann's eightieth yesterday

Life holds a few surprises
You reading this
Me being thankful for the white cotton sheets and a firm bed
Mind you I had to pass on ordering the breakfast
Eat as much as you can for £7.75  didn't appeal to me at the time
Though I may feel different come the morning

The dream was of a charabanc
With poets and writers
And my mum tugging at her crimplene skirt
Then the dream moved on
To a big cat in ours, and our neighbours garden
A cat as big as a puma, maybe the myth is true after all

I read Paul's pamphlet as I enjoyed a bacon and egg sandwich
And a cup of tea, a sort of half full-english
I was ready by then
I truly did feel to sit with him
In the old church I reached out to rub the patterned stone
I said goodbye to the old lady

Who had opened up specifically for Paul to enter
Paul talks of his love of the almighty
But I thought that his story of lost love
A real life encounter as told to him by the grief stricken girl
That spoke to me of lost love
Being far mightier than the almighty


available for kindle here

Sunday 18 June 2017

Wild West

Country Lady, in your country hat
You walk around the rapeseed field
Where do you walk to, where from
Do you carry a bucket, or is it a basket
That swings from your delicate arm
You go out of sight, behind the tree line
Return only a few moments later
Have you been to feed the livestock
Or to gather up magic mushrooms
Stereotypes prevail in this life
Thus I would care for the reader
To imagine your Barbour wax jacket
Your green wellington boots
And your scarf by Abercrombie
Thrown playful on your shoulder
I cannot imagine
That you fetched water from the brook
Though if the reader could imagine
The stream is translucently clear
It sparkles vividly in the morning sun
As it traverses onwards down the valley


available for kindle here

Saturday 17 June 2017

Rural And Cosmopolitan

Raindrops, grey skies
At least the crops grow
Though I understand that is as much down
To chemical spray management
As it is due to the vagaries of the weather

Science, is it all good
Is it wise to know too much about transformation
To be able to speed up growth, or to slow down death

A motor-cyclist parks by the side of my car
Two engines that originated on mainland Japan
Immense developments in technology and engineering
We are both able to travel at over one hundred miles an hour
Yet we still choose to take eggs for breakfast


Friday 16 June 2017

Soul Mates

We, we set ourselves up
As if we meant to carry on
Shared hotel room
Bottle of wine
A musical performance
And tickets for the theatre
In contrast, markedly
To earlier struggles
Nights of shadow boxing
Shallow explanations
Ruthless persuasions

If the foundation
Is a series of bombardments
Why to expect that the settlement
Will be any less circumspect
Whereas in this latest beginning
All edges are already smooth
Beauty of maturity is preferred
To the recklessness of youth
With seemingly all
And everything to lose

It seems undoubted
I now begin to realise
That this time we have the nouse
To hold off the conclusion


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