C Richard Miles Poems

I am feeling like a wally,
For I’ve left my milk and wellies,
Like a berk who’d leave a brolly,
In the carriage of the tube.
...

When we were young, we would explore
To while away the daylight hours
And climb the crags on Farnhill Moor.
We were intrigued by what we saw
...

The little ferryboat no longer shuttles
From Harwich harbour down to Felixstowe
And it gathers every barnacle that settles
Upon its hull to calcify and stay.
...

As long as I live, I shall always recall
The day that we painted the school playground wall.
It was part of a day, when all Londoners, workers
And children in schools performed tasks, in a circus,
...

Harsh white the motorcyclist’s headlights
Shouted with impatience at the world of cars:
Inferior beings, cloistered, sheltered, guarded
Who have no rights to claim the tarry track
...

Festoons of flagstone, tiered like wedding cake,
Crawl slowly up steep steps in Hebden Bridge,
Those terraces of solid, millstone grit
Toil tiredly up the hillsides to the ridge
...

Shiny red shoes in Soho carry certain shady meanings
Understood by those who sadly stray that way.
Shiny red dress in Soho clearly means to welcome
Some attention from the punters as they pass.
...

Light rain may bless our gardens with its welcome shower
Blest rain may still our worries, make us once more sure.
Still rain may soften edges of the city street.
Soft rain may cool our anger, make things once more straight,
...

Did you not clock those clouds that, small and stray,
Have drifted, grey as ghosts, across my skies:
Those sombre spectres stealing sense away
And dimming all desire that ardour dies?
...

I am the jolly jester, full of those jokes and tricks
That make you chuckle, grin and laugh at my antics;
I am the cheeky clown that takes the custard pie
That was meant for you, so troubles pass you by.
...