Patrick Ladbrooke Poems

I thought the grass was greener,
On the far side of the hill,
I searched in vain,
Found only pain,
...

Swinging sixties

From boy to man
And a string of girls
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Bluebells

From a distant wood, a boy,
I gathered bluebells by the armful.
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Saturday evenings,
With resin'd hair and blistered toes
I chased a girl
Who triple salco'ed in a tutu.
...

That dear old friend
Once, crisp and timely
as a metronome, now
Shouts in my ears each night
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Lists

I love to write a list
1. And prioritise.
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Smiling from their cosy nest,
two puppies rise and fall with her every breath,
bursting to escape, they taunt
' You'd like to feel our peachy warmth? '
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Old men on a shelter bench,
With newspapers and sticks,
Each day the same as yesterday,
The morning tide, the ships;
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When autumn came, the sea would swell
With the harvest to deliver,
And the air was filled with herring smell,
From quays along the river.
...

Thompson took the crease;
with broken pallet plank in hand,
tapped at the cracked concrete.
Smith bowled, right arm over dustbin
...