C Richard Miles Poems

As the trailing traffic trundles
Slug-like slow through humdrum London,
Serpentine, so slowly snaking,
As the working world is waking,
...

Though quite a Europhile, I'll willingly admit
One thing the single currency just cannot do
Though, sadly, truth to tell, the self-same problems sit
Within the British monetary system, too.
...

They used to call you Cottonopolis,
My Manchester, in that far-distant time
Where smog from smokestacks, gathered grease and grime
In consort, stalked your tawdry terraced streets.
...

Cross words cross across crossed wires.
Cross-purposes cross reconciliation off the list
as, crosswise, clockwise and counter-clockwise
fight for costly cross-border dominance.
...

A month to Christmas
And commercialism
Starts to festoon our streets
With all its frippery.
...

How is it that we poets seem to be
Mere transient custodians of poetry?
For succinct words and phrases seem to fly,
Like unannounced meteors from the sky,
...

It’s a grand morning now,
But it promises rain,
So let’s make the most
Of the hours that remain:
...

The pond seems still beside the pale brown reeds
Still sleeping drowsy from their winter rest
Yet it is spring, so soon from dormant seeds
New shoots will sprout while birds will build their nest.
...

After I heard Harry’s limerick,
I found that my mind set to simmer. “Rick, ”
I said to myself,
“One might write it itself, ”
...

Truculent, I trudged across the muddy public park,
narked at pure necessity of popping to the shops.
Wild winds whistled, wuthering and, though dank rain had stopped,
grey, glowering clouds gloomed, gathering; the sky was drawing dark.
...