BBB Poem 24

So, for two days we have had rain
And for eight days, we have had sun
Even today, on one of the rain days
The day began with sunshine and blue sky

One could become dispirited
By the overflowing gutters
By the mist enveloping the bay
One could, but simply by the law of averages

One can be certain that the sun will return
That the spirits will be lifted
By the clearer skies, by the lapping
Of the azure sea, onto the silver sunlit sands

Is this what Beckett was aiming at
With Godot; that to wait is the life
To wait, and to observe, no more to it than that
No need for despondency, nor for hope

Of course if the rain has set itself in
Which by now it seems to have done
Then, I agree, one may well struggle
To visualise any emerging light

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BBB Poem 23

The rains came
I was asked to move my bag
The man, who had made the request
Sat down and consulted his mobile phone
And said
Michael’s not up to it
Malcolm’s not up to it
The woman, who could be the wife
Had also sat down
She says to say that they will be back by four
I take a photograph, to capture the rain
I am reminded of a song
But do not go there
A number 2 bus arrives, and departs
A lady with a blue check umbrella walks by
Vowing not to go in any more shops
Yet I notice
She heads straight for the souvenir emporium
Whose neon sign states that yes, they are open
We might have a pizza tonight
In a restaurant without a licence
Though I have to be honest and say
That I have yet to see this particular establishment
Nor have I witnessed the likes of its clientele

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BBB Poem 22

Sands, firm wet sands
A brave red sunrise
Sands, soft dry sands
A wild red sunset

You
Brave, and red
You
Wild, and wet

Restaurant, de-luxe
Patrons, chic, classy
Restaurant, Michelin star
Patrons, beautiful bodies

You
Chic, classy
You
Beautiful body

Fashions, haute-couture
Tight, clinging
Fashions, fabricated gold
Loose, swirling

You
Haute-couture
You
Tight, swirling

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BBB Poem 21

The boats could be in St Ives
But no, they are not
The sky, and the sea, could be blue, and azure
But no, they are cloud grey, and murky taupe

The hotel could be in St Mawes
But no, it is not
The bedrooms could be five star boutique
But no, they are net curtained, dormer windows

The castle could be Warwick, or Carcassonne
But no, certainly not
Dining could be a gastronomic adventure
But no, it is cold pie, in the bus shelter

The shops could be arts, and crafts, and unique
But no, no, not at all
Buying gifts could be a pleasure of celebration
But no, it is pearl, or pearl, or pearl

The writing could be gentle, and purposeful
But no, most definitely not
The words could be observational, and sincere
But no, today it is sarcasm, that rules the roost

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BBB Poem 20

It was a winter’s night
Or was it early spring
Either way it was dark
As we came out of the restaurant
Just up the hill from the floodlit castle

It wasn't the first time
That you had rebuffed me
But on this particular occasion
You had taken me out for a romantic meal
To break the news of closure

Repeatedly you reminded me
Of my responsibilities to my family
Repeatedly I reminded you
That that stretch of my life was behind me
That, for my souls sake, I had had to move on

You did not want to pull close to me
Outside under the street light
You did not want me to hold you
Not closely, not intimately
Not in any sort of public declaration

But I hung on in there
And we talked, on our return drive
Five miles or more, along the coast road
You took me into your house, upstairs
Into your lounge, there to sleep on your floor

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