P. J. Radford Poems

Sprawled on my bed in my KL cell
I search through my head to note
this heaviness in the dark.
...

Grey slate rises on rooftops
like rills through the mist
where seagulls sweep and
sparrows huddle under eaves.
...

I wondered whether you had heard
what happ'd those that break their word,
their oath, their bond, their faith, their trust,
once they have turned to dust.
...

My friend Syd had a pain in his head.
He had a bike one day and now he's gone away.
And Esteecee then, and his many men
so beautiful lying dead, all the worms have fed.
...

When we stroll out in the Spring,
through vales fulfilled with daffodils,
wooded dells of pale bluebells,
the air alive with lovely smells,
...